The Ottawa Citizen - August 8, 1995

"Amadeus shows there's nothing like a good dramatic fight"
Janice Kennedy

Dour and dutiful, dedicated to God, the hero is a soberly clothed study in serious tones. His antagonist -- powdered, bewigged, outfitted in a peacock array of dandy's attire -- is a self-absorbed vulgarian with varied tastes, including coprophilia.

If ever there were compelling evidence that good conflict makes good drama, it is Peter Shaffer's 1979 Amadeus, the multi-award-winning play (and later film) that pits the dutiful Antonio Salieri, ambitious court composer in 18th-century Vienna, against the foul-mouthed genius of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.

Shaffer's unique study of contrasts -- his at times brilliant exploration of genius in a world of mediocrity -- has come to life again, this time on Stratford's Festival Theatre stage, in a blaze of baroque glory. Under the inspired direction of Stratford boss Richard Monette, and featuring a breathtaking tour de force performance by Brian Bedford as Salieri, Amadeus opened in triumph Saturday night to a capacity crowd that received it rapturously.

With reason.

Stratford's Amadeus, which features a new scene specially written for it by the playwright, is visually stunning proof of theatre's capacity to move, enlighten and entertain, all at once.

The new scene, in which two souls in agony confront and rail against each other, is probably a touch of overkill in a play that has already exhausted the exploration of the conflict. And the play itself, in the second act, does re-cross familiar territory perhaps a few times too often. But that is nothing compared to the compelling virtues of this production.

Bedford, who is almost never off the stage in an incredibly demanding role, creates a Salieri who can decry the artistic mediocrity he knows he is, at the same time that he recognizes, appreciates -- and hates passionately -- the sweet voice of God that speaks through the music of Mozart, the vile lout he calls The Creature.

Part of Bedford's genius is in making this fatal jealousy not only credible but the function of a man you can't help liking, in spite of yourself. In Salieri (``patron saint of mediocrity''), there is a humanity, an awful recognition of weakness and the universality of the merely adequate, that Bedford makes touchingly palpable. When, in his defeat, he talks of his life after Mozart's death -- 32 years ``of being called distinguished by people who couldn't distinguish'' -- there is an unsettling bitterness with which audiences, incredibly, can sympathize.

Bedford's capacity to grip, to take a houseful of hearts in his hands and squeeze them for a timeless moment, is perhaps nowhere better seen than in the single dark scene at the end of the first act when he denounces God for having played the bitterest of tricks on him: rubbing his nose in the reality of Mozart. The former ``small-town Catholic, filled with dread'' throws away his soul in an act of sheer, empty despair, and in that moment acknowledges his spiritual and artistic death.

In the role of the scatological genius who drives Salieri to mad hopelessness, Stephen Ouimette once again turns in the kind of performance that has made him not only a Stratford mainstay over six seasons, but one of the most versatile actors on the Canadian scene.

The man who is the voice of Beetlejuice in the animated cartoon series -- the same man who last year played a sweet and very funny Andrew Aguecheek in Twelfth Night and a memorably spare Hamlet -- here gives us a Mozart who not only struts and swears and carries on like an unruly schoolboy, but also feels and loves and despairs. He has created, in short, a portrait of genius that goes beyond eccentricity and boyish enthusiasm to hint passionately at the deep wellsprings from which genius must draw to create music that can move mountains.

Throwing herself bravely into the centre of this onstage titans' duel is Megan Follows, who is ``Wolfie's'' down-dirty partner, bride and soulmate, Constanze Weber. Follows is up to the challenge and her Constanze is a lively portrait of warm-bloodedness, nicely burnished with a growing sense of angry desperation as the bitter realities of life with Mozart set in.

In fact, there isn't a false note anywhere in the cast -- from Robert Haley's smilingly vacuous Joseph II with his infrequent imperious flashes, to Bernard Hopkins' humorless baron and the conniving court veterans played by Michael Mawson and Barry MacGregor.

Nor is there a false note in the sumptuous look of the piece. Against designer Desmond Heeley's spare but stunning suggestions of 18th-century Vienna, a study in baroque opulence that (says Salieri) sacramentalizd the mediocrity of ordinary men, Monette's sure visual artistry provides a perfect living tapestry: masks and gilt and gorgeous costumes, silent tableaux that sing powerfully. All are manipulated to maximum and eloquent effect.

Merit is never any guarantee of big box office. But it is probably safe to say that, once word gets out, Amadeus will pack them in until season's end. And so it should.

Source: The Ottawa Citizen

The Windsor Star - August 8, 1995

"Amadeus superb, but does it belong?"
Jamie Portman

There's no doubt about it -- Peter Shaffer's Amadeus does make for marvellous theatre.

It also invites the kind of bravura acting which sends audiences into raptures.

So, given the high-powered talent involved in the Stratford Festival's new production of Shaffer's 1979 stage triumph, it's not surprising that Saturday's opening brought a capacity audience to its feet at the end.

If artistic director Richard Monette was aiming for a Broadway gloss in his production, he has certainly succeeded. And there is no denying he has drawn a powerhouse performance from Brian Bedford in the role of Antonio Salieri, the mediocre Viennese court composer whose seething resentment of an upstart young genius called Mozart has devastating consequences both for himself and the target of his enmity.

But it's a further measure of the stature of this production that Bedford does not dominate the field -- as is often the case with actors assigned this meatiest of roles.

We have from Stephen Ouimette a superb Mozart of unusual presence and conviction. And Megan Follows discovers an unexpected level of emotional truth in her portrayal of Mozart's childlike wife, Constanze.

There is also an excellent supporting cast which includes the ever-dependable Robert Haley, hilarious as a vacuous Austrian emperor; a pompadoured Barry MacGregor sneering and slithering his way through the role of the unspeakable Count Orsini-Rosenberg; and Bernard Hopkins, wonderfully petulant as the humorless Baron von Swieten.

Visually, this is the most striking production to grace the Festival Theatre stage this season, thanks to the translucent chandelier imagery of Desmond Heeley's set design and his dark, sumptuous costuming.

Heeley has also created a tiled floor which becomes an expanse of shimmering beauty once light designer Michael J. Whitfield starts working his own magic on the production.

Shaffer is unique on the commercial theatre scene for having moulded some extraordinary popular successes out of the most unlikely subject matter.

Amadeus is no exception.

Musical historians may scorn him for having bolstered this play's fortunes by disinterring the long discredited story that Salieri murdered Mozart. Academics may scoff at the play's philosophical premise: this, after all, is the story of a court musician so offended by the presence of Mozart as God's chosen conduit for the expression of musical genius, that he seeks to avenge himself on God by destroying his young rival.

Ponder Amadeus too closely and you see a play in danger of toppling under its own weighty pretensions. Yet, you forgive much because of its blazing theatricality.

With this production, Shaffer is seeing a 16-year-old dream fulfilled in the casting of longtime friend Bedford as Salieri. Bedford, who has been playing Shaffer characters for some 37 years, is portraying this ``patron saint of mediocrities'' with unmistakeable relish.

Salieri is often cuttingly, mordantly funny, as Bedford demonstrates what he can do with the mere raising of an eyebrow or vocal cadence.

But there is also the anguish of self-loathing here. Bedford has some of his most striking moments in those scenes when he experiences Mozart's music and reacts with a terrible mingling of spiritual ecstasy and soul-shrivelling jealousy.

Shaffer has fine-tuned his script for this production and has also written a vivid new confrontation scene between Salieri and the dying Mozart.

Such a scene is typical of a production which has marshalled Stratford's finest resources to give audience members their money's worth. Still, one nagging question remains. This may be an outstanding production of a commercially foolproof play. But -- and this is a big ``but'' -- does it belong in the repertoire of the Stratford Festival? Or, to put it another way, is the festival's classical mandate counting for less and less?

Source: The Windsor Star