REVIEW: Amadeus - Beenleigh Theatre Group

Amadeus – Beenleigh Theatre Group

Written by Peter Shaffer

Directed by Sean Wilson

Assistant Director: Thomas Allan

Stage Manager: Tianna Paget

Set Design and Decor: Bradley Chapman and Michael Ware

Lighting Design: CJ Avery

Sound Design: Gabriel Burton and Thomas Allan

"Music is easy. Marriage is hard."

Considering the man saying it was Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, perhaps that explains quite a lot. Peter Shaffer's Tony Award-winning play imagines the legendary rivalry between court composer Antonio Salieri and musical prodigy Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. Or, more explicitly, it imagines what might happen when a hardworking man discovers that God apparently gave all the talent to the weird giggling man-child in the colourful wigs.

Salieri stands before us and calmly confesses to murder, addressing the audience as “the ghosts of the distant future”, and just like that, we're in. This is Salieri's story. Or at least, his version of it. Alex Dundas-Taylor carries this show on his back as Salieri, and it's seriously impressive. This is a dense, detailed script that could easily lose an audience, but he never lets that happen. An exceptional storyteller, he delivers page after page with such clarity that you almost forget how much text he's carrying. His dry humour sneaks up on you too, providing some welcome relief whenever things threaten to become too heavy.

And then Mozart arrives. Michael Ware throws himself into the role with complete abandon. Loud, excitable, egotistical and dressed in increasingly ridiculous wigs and costumes, “obscene child” feels like an entirely fair description by Salieri. His absurd little giggle becomes almost a character in itself, popping up whenever Mozart finds himself amusing, which is often. At times it begins to wear on you and you completely understand why Salieri is losing his mind over this boy.

This Mozart has spent his entire life being told he's a genius by everyone, including the Pope. Of course he grows up into this ridiculous little drama queen. Ware's performance gives me a strange combination of Mad Matter and Emperor Peter III from the unhinged TV series The Great — chaotic, immature, larger than life, and impossible to ignore. But beneath all the chaos, there is real skill. Ware actually plays the piano onstage and, while it isn't concert-level perfection, it adds authenticity. As Mozart's life begins to unravel, he starts acting with his eyes as much as his voice, and the silliness gradually gives way to something more exhausted and fragile.

That contrast between the two men drives everything. Salieri works tirelessly, does everything “right”, and then this kid appears tossing off symphonies and arias as though it's nothing. Of course Salieri spirals. Imagine competing with Mozart, a man who apparently hears fully formed music in his head and simply writes it down like a secretary taking dictation. “Composing is not hard when you have the right audience to please” lands with a particular sting in that context.

Dundas-Taylor plays Salieri's descent from admiration to jealousy clearly. After all, deciding to wage war against both Mozart and God is not exactly a normal response to professional envy. With such a bizarre grudge, part of me kept expecting his acting to become even darker and more off the rails. Instead, Salieri had to mask his fury, maintaining the appearance of friendship while quietly destroying the man he both admires and resents.

The ensemble hold the world together nicely. Everyone is highly articulate, slightly pompous and committed to the style. The Italians-versus-Germans rivalry provides plenty of amusement, while the use of multiple languages helps bring the setting to life. Lachlan Bretherton-Scobie and Holly Delchau bring some enjoyable mischief as the gossiping Venticelli, Bradley Chapman is flamboyant and funny as Emperor Joseph II, and Adam Goodall's dry delivery as Baron van Swieten earns several laughs.

Hannah Martin as Constanze was a particular standout for me. Her playfully childish interactions with Ware make their marriage believable. She gets to play Constanze as sweet, dorky and supportive one moment, then petrified, furious or fiercely protective the next. As the only significant female character in a story dominated by men and their egos, Constanze often finds herself overlooked, not only by society but by her own husband. While Mozart chases inspiration, she is left trying to advance his career and do whatever is necessary to support them after seeing very little financial reward from his genius. Martin beautifully captures the frustration, love and loyalty of a woman who remains Mozart's wife and closest friend right to the end. Constanze's confrontation with Salieri is one of the strongest scenes in the show. She navigates the shifts from hope to humiliation, anger and disgust beautifully, and her response to Salieri's advances is especially memorable.

Director Sean Wilson handles the shifts in time and perspective well. Flashbacks, asides and jumps through time are all handled clearly, and the use of recorded music helps illustrate Mozart's brilliance. Visually, the production is bare but striking with set design by Bradley Chapman and Michael Ware. Black and gold dominate the stage, with lines painted across the floor and ropes stretching up to the ceiling like empty musical staves waiting to be filled. Add a grand piano, powdered wigs and all the formal eighteenth-century language, and you're firmly planted in Mozart's world.

The length of the play is definitely felt, with Act Two in particular beginning to stretch. But after spending several hours in eighteenth-century Vienna, it left me reflecting on just how different their world was. Their entertainment options were basically music, theatre, literature or drinking. And apparently a woman could damage her reputation simply by showing her leg. Yet jealousy, artistic insecurity and petty rivalries haven't changed much in the last 250 years. Imagine telling Mozart that The Marriage of Figaro was too showy.

By the end I found myself thinking less about murder and more about comparison. Salieri spends the entire play destroying himself over the fact that someone else was better, and perhaps that's the real tragedy. Tortured musicians, it seems, have always existed.