
A 6-year-old learns to love movies and music from an amazing film.
I first saw “Amadeus” on a Beta videotape when I was 6 years old. You wouldn’t think a 6-year-old would find anything remotely interesting about a nearly three-hour biopic about a classical composer in the 1700s, but, improbably, it instantly became my favorite movie, and has remained that way ever since.
“Amadeus” is no stuffy costume drama — it is a hilarious, moving, monumental event. I don’t watch “Amadeus” — “Amadeus” is like something that is happening to me, something I am participating in. At age 6, I loved it for Mozart’s childish laugh, and for the unbelievable music. At age 27, I still love those things, but I also love it for its portrait of genius, madness, envy, addiction and weakness. “Amadeus” provides me with everything I could hope from in a movie.
“Amadeus” began my lifelong love affair with the movies, one that has seen its share of fun romps (”The Fifth Element,” “Star Wars”), dark beauties (”Apocalypse Now,” “Fight Club”), hopeless romantics (”It’s a Wonderful Life,” “Casablanca”) and unfettered infatuations (”Magnolia” and “Pulp Fiction”).
But most of all, of course, “Amadeus” gave me music. Brilliant, beautiful music from a brilliant, beautiful and insane man. It is because of “Amadeus” that my first cherished CDs were by Mozart and Bach, not by Guns N’ Roses or Metallica (but I would come to cherish those as well). The relationship between film and music is inescapable, yet often overlooked (or even written off); and no film marries the two better than “Amadeus.” Salieri finds absolute ecstasy as he looks at Mozart’s work, just as I have found when listening to great music — whether it’s by Beethoven or Iron Maiden. Later on, Salieri gets to peer into the mind of the master when he helps a dying Mozart write the requiem — if there is a God, Salieri has come closest to meeting him in that instant. I long for that feeling, especially in a world that offers me no hope, no evidence that we are being shepherded along by a higher power.
“Amadeus” means “beloved of God,” which to me is an impossible, unattainable thing. I don’t believe in God, but I do believe in mankind, and that mankind is capable of great things. “Amadeus” is a great, great thing, and watching it is as close to a religious experience that this jaded man has ever come.
By: Sean Stangland