Amadeus Episode 1 Review: All Aboard the Anxiety Train to Stagnation

I’d like to think I’ve got some viewing balls, I binged “The Terror” (S1) last winter anyways. But damn if there isn’t something about the makeup of the opening scene of Amadeus that makes it hard to watch. Like knowing at the end of the new GOT series we’re left with the rotting king we began with. Sadly, the effect did not shift having finished the episode. What are we to look forward to?

Let me be clear, I’m a Will Sharpe fan. I mean, I haven’t seen all his work, but “Defending the Guilty” ranking as opus, in my rating. As a viewer, the depth of that character allowed for so much to connect with, so much to feel and explore about ourselves within his performance. Isn’t that what this whole theater practice is about? Sadly, the same cannot be said of Will Sharpe’s Mozart, which does not bode well for the rest of this article (beware). 

With a few spectrum-ish head twitches, I was reminded of his character in “W1A.” Brilliant. But that guy was a minor character. Through this episode of Amadeus, I found myself too often face to face with the blank expression of that character in Mozart’s close-ups. Too much for an anchor character. This “blank” impression could summarize how I felt about Mozart. Kind of a, “what?” 

He’s childlike, which I’m assuming is part of the whole point about his tragic childhood. He never had one, so he always will be one, utilizing methods such as heavy alcohol consumption to complement this behavior, though not necessarily hinge on enablement. Addiction doesn’t seem his bag thus far. The tough part about this aspect of Mozart’s character is that, as a viewer, it’s hard to grab on to (much less want to) his storyline. What awaits us? Seasons 2-8 of more childlike bullshit with some cool piano pieces and alarming opera peppered in? 

Will Sharpe’s Mozart fails to capture the tortured genius of, let’s say, Benedict Cumberbatch’s Sherlock. Both self destructive, asocial, and part of a chess game. For Sherlock, “the game” means “the game is afoot”—we’re off to catch some badies, something inherently good! For Mozart, “the game” means defending his claim to fame—at best, we’re in for some fun musical numbers, public displays of talent. 

So where to place our bets? Why am I going to keep watching? Paul Bettany’s Salieri? From an acting standpoint, as a viewer I have no notes for Bettany. Directors must breathe a sigh of relief when they see him on the call sheet. This could’ve been a great outlet to bring back some mannerisms of his Chaucer in a “Knight’s Tale”—both divine creatives with a penchant for a public audience. But his performance is subdued, and the storm beneath is art.

Unfortunately, as a viewer with anxiety, emotional investment into the character of Salieri is a hard pass. I internally cheered, externally smiled, as he kept his composure in scenes with the Emperor and Mozart. You go Salieri, dignity, and therefore hope, is yours (this was before I skimmed his wikipedia article). Regardless of the murder angle, we’ve got: a great faced with an unbeatable greater and nowhere to run. They’re on the same field going about a game with no foreseeable end except for eventual eclipse…woof.

Any Christian also knows this doesn’t end well for Salieri. The ideal Christian attitude would be to not complain and immediately turn to sin when facing writer’s block, but continue to thank God for the success he has achieved (which is considerable for this guy). So, we’re either saddled with a douche character, or we’re in to watch Salieri go through some significant “come to Jesus” experiences in order emerge a character worth rooting for.

I’d like to reserve hope that Sharpe’s portrayal of Mozart’s plight of genius might evolve enough to latch onto the character. But even if that were to happen, the future of the story seems to fall flat, whereas the fictional stories of Sherlock Holmes still produce blockbusters today. Is it the end goal of their pursuits that leaves Mozart lacking? Pursuit of truth versus self-elevation? I’d watch another 10 seasons of “Succession,” so I don’t think that’s it. Perhaps too soon to say. What can be said for sure, though, is that while we see Sherlock’s lab, his continued education (albeit dangerous) —Mozart is portrayed as a prodigy in a most stereotypical sense. He’s got a talent that he’s always had, he doesn’t have to try at it, and he seems torn between the dopamine his gift provides and the torture of it.

In the space between, as a viewer I was left….indifferent. Where else could I land?