By Julie D. Griffin
"We create an environment where it is alright to hate, to steal, to cheat, and to lie if we dress it up with symbols of respectability, dignity and love." Whitney Moore
Some people just want it all, and when they get it they seem to only want more. A film about a man, an older man who copied the ideas of a younger person and got himself all set up only to end up telling the tale from an asylum while unable to shake the guilt of his elder years. The hip version of a more glam rock star style of a talented Mozart, however spoiled by his own father and appears that despite the lavish upbringing does not learn anything about true manners, and only enough of the social graces to flutter, flatter and as a child boy giggle his way through life.Amadeus entertains the problem with an older, more mature musician composer who said he wanted to use his treble clef for God alone, but throws the man and the cross upon a den room fire after he lets him down time after some dark flogged and heavy elongated time.
However, we have a double problem here. An artist who of original composition and genious seems set on fire as if by some alien intrigue, and although the intelligence high, does not seem to manage. His wife on the other hand does fight for him to be paid fairly. And as his designs of the play opera theatre of the day take wing and form, his older rival and the head composer of a king, desires deeply from God to know why God gave such or what he envisions as an imp of a Mozart such finesse' to create the music of the gods, while he a mere mortal prayed the prayer as a child to what he considers one god to own such a talent. And has and shall not acquire during his whole entire lifetime even one more once Mozart aspires to the height of genious more after his own father dies. He writes and puts on a musical play of such gothic beauty that even the jealous patron enemy behind the scenes nearly feels guilty after he pushes the brave and unknowing composer to his death and an early pauper grave.
The dirge of all dreams dies on the cusp. And a less than saultry winter solstice makes clear that where the emotions trump the destiny of rights, each life has a plan ~ But the doom of the life of those whose cheat, steal and sometimes even kill to usurp the things and property and even the talent or place of another, a covet is always warned of great unhappiness ahead on the roadway of life. And just like the older and more dark marauder of our story, jealous that the talented Mozart had all he wanted, and like some women who already had the lion share of men and of children embark upon the secret hour of pleasure for more unholy gain. These coy bump artists aside, balk about giving up one man while at least even the highly talented and extremely conscientious Willie Nelson is human enough to admit that there is only one woman on his mind. You were always on my mind.
The requiem therefore of Amadeus, the soothe of the feral undammed wall of the brilliant musical artist, he intertwines his short life with a rival ~ And for Mozart who died a young 35, the also opera writer Salieri whose breath pores at short times as his bosom buddy, of the artist who actually like some women, after all the same fear that drove upon him to roam he now allays. The stunning gorge of his past he prefers to abandon at the time of his life where he blossomed and wrote and composed some of his greatest creations while married to one wife. At the same time that Mozart got all that the elder composer ever said he wanted and hoped for and dreamed of for his life, no mild Suffragette City here, the older man seemed one crave away from a more gravy froth of growing hand claws. The eyes of Mozart lived ungouged though and yet waxed over with death at the same that she safely locked every composition away from the thief. And as the man who dark with a costume of Satan bright pushed for the final work of Mozart only to want to claim these original creations, compositions as his own, his masochistic rite turned a Machiavelli upon him alone.
Locked up later as a man bricked up by his own private prison, he failed to learn the lesson to return what he had stolen. He wanted to keep it all. And under the sure delusion that no one of the world saw or comprehended his great crime, even as one last mast of that warning sail sailed by, he pimps the outboard to surf the inward and only believes he missed the dark on purpose for himself. He plunges to the lowest depth ever thought possible, and does not escape the fate of the innocent he himself earlier drove made, descends to that same fate multiplied. Thus united with the thought process ever repundatory, he removed from the great mecca of the world of the opera house of the day retires as a zombie, the effect of a whole mass of secret evil he alone deployed ~ And as if to enjoy the fullness of his own long swindle lie, he of all people shocking even himself spends the whole rest of life at an asylum, the miserable rise to the top of his poinsetted life he never knew when to stop stealing and destroying the goods and the life of the one he said he loved. The independent film producer of the fruitful tryst here, Saul Zaentz, presents Peter Shaffer's story of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, and a deep and true performance by one Ferris Bueller Day Off star later, laudes the revelation of the idea thief while exuding some rather good past originals under the belt of same. Cuckoo Nest. Hair. And Ragtime, just to name a few.