You could be forgiven for thinking that this latest production of Amadeus had reworked Peter Shaffer’s 1979 Tony Award-winning play into a one-man show, so thoroughly does acclaimed Welsh actor Michael Sheen dominate the marketing material. And you’d only be half-wrong. At times there are around 40 people on stage together, but Sheen’s turn as the preening, pompous, guilt-wracked, self-aggrandising Antonio Salieri is so captivating you find yourself having to drag your attention away from him even when he’s simply sitting quietly in a chair on stage while the action of the scene plays out away from him.
When we first meet Salieri the once-revered composer is a withered old man, dressed in a wig and a red robe reminiscent of Gary Oldman’s first appearance in Bram Stoker’s Dracula. And much like that film, Amadeus tells the tale of a devout man who declares a war on God. In Salieri’s case, it is unquenchable professional jealousy that drives his mutiny against heaven; on meeting the prodigiously talented Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (Rahel Romahn, recently seen on screen in Here Out West and excellent here) at a salon in music-obsessed 18th century Vienna, he simply cannot reconcile the man’s unarguable compositional genius with his boorish, scandalous behaviour. Aghast at the injustice that God would grant such talent to such a man, he resolves to destroy Mozart – to strike back at God, he tells us, not for any mere personal grudge. If you say so, Salieri.
...this is 18th century Vienna by way of the Beatles circa Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band
From there we flash back to see how Mozart’s fortunes wane even as his talent swells, all down to Salieri’s Machiavellian machinations at the court of Emperor Joseph II (Toby Schmidt of Black Sails, fantastically foppish in Hugh-Laurie-in-Blackadder mode) – who loves music as long as it doesn’t have too many notes, and whose mercurial whims can spell fortune or disaster for all around him.
It all plays out on an impressively deep stage designed by Michael Scott-Mitchell that caters to expansive crowd scenes, yet also conveys an almost claustrophobic intimacy during the dramatic two or three-hander scenes. Indeed, Amadeus is something of a chamber piece, and it’s interesting to wonder how it might play out on a smaller stage than the Opera House’s (spectacular, have no doubt) recently refurbished Concert Hall. There’s a tension between the scope of the story and the scale of the production.
The splendid costumes by Anna Cordingley and local fashion legends Romance Was Born take no prisoners, evoking the OTT court fashions of the time and then some – this is 18th century Vienna by way of the Beatles circa Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. Veteran actor Sean O’Shea’s outfit as Baron Gottfried van Swieten, frenemy to both Salieri and Mozart, is impressively peacockish. Salieri’s dourness and religiosity is conveyed by his comparatively sober black and silver ensemble, while Mozart looks like he can barely be convinced to dress himself, his sleeves loose and ragged.
There’s not a bum note in the cast (if we can’t use music puns here, where can we?) and Lily Balatincz is particularly impressive as Mozart’s increasingly desperate wife Constanz, bringing nuance to what could have been a rote victim role. But this is Sheen’s show, make no mistake.
Back at the dawn of his career, Sheen took on the role of Mozart opposite David Suchet’s Salieri in a landmark production that took him from the West End’s Old Vic to Broadway and Los Angeles, so there’s a pleasing symmetry to him essaying Salieri now. It’s an immensely challenging role, the character bearing the burden of attention for almost the entire two-hour and fifteen minute running time (a 20 minute, slightly-too-short intermission included). But Sheen handles it beautifully, adjusting his posture and changing his accent to embody both the elder (who has reverted to his native Lombardy accent) and younger court composer. Crucially, Sheen has the charisma to make us, his audience and confessor, complicit. Salieri is one of the great villain-protagonists of the stage, and while Shaffer’s deft writing does a lot to help us connect with this self-crucified man through his pettiness and hypocrisy, there needs be considerable charm in play to seal the deal and make us want to spend a little under three hours in his company. Sheen, wrapping himself around Shaffer’s delicious dialogue like a mongoose around a cobra, has it in spades.
This is a superb production from director Craig Ilott (Smoke and Mirrors, American Idiot) and Red Line Productions, who manage the transition from their usual cosy environs of the Old Fitz to the Concert Hall with aplomb, anchored by a sublime, textured performance. If you make this your first show of 2023, you’ll be giving the rest of the year a lot to live up to.
Amadeus is playing until January 21, 2023, as part of the Sydney Opera House’s mammoth calendar of events for its 50th anniversary celebrations.
