A masterful Amadeus from Robert Falls at Steppenwolf

Photo by Michael Brosilow

This is the kind of play that the up close and personal Ensemble Theatre was built for.

Peter Shaffer’s Amadeus is a brilliant piece of drama that features two performers at the top of their game, a (fictional) mystery, the music of Mozart, and a whole lot to love. Along with half of the country, it seemed, I saw the 1984 Milos Forman movie, but this is my first encounter with the stage version that preceded it. I’m glad to finally become acquainted.

The Tony winning Falls keeps the action flowing throughout, aided by the characters that Shaffer called “venticelli.” The perfectly cast Ora Jones and Sawyer Smith play a kind of abbreviated, omnipresent Greek chorus, always there to comment, snipe, question, and sneer at what is happening onstage. The pairing is providential: both actors make these all-seeing characters feel totally alive (though a bit snippy), and they have about as much fun with them as it’s possible to have.

The lead role of Salieri is brilliantly portrayed by Ian Barford. A highly successful if not particularly inventive composer—he proclaims that “music is God’s art” and spends much of the play wondering why the Almighty would honor the brash, young, and iconoclastic Mozart instead of him. He recognizes almost immediately that the newcomer’s genius easily outshines his own and, despite the pretense of being his friend, works to undermine him with the court.

Mozart (a wonderfully energetic and expressive David Darrow in his inaugural Steppenwolf role) does not help himself by continually flouting the established “rules” of operatic composition. His “The Marriage of Figaro,” for example, features a working class main character (heavens forfend!) and comedy, both of which had always been verboten. After he manages to get himself blackballed at the court, he even deigns to compose an opera (“The Magic Flute”) to be performed in a low-rent hall, further driving a wedge between himself and the court. Darrow, as manic in Mozart’s highs as he is depressive in the lows, is compelling throughout.

Even more compelling, though, is Barford’s Salieri. We meet him in a “present” moment, a sick old man dying alone, joked about and chastised by the Venticelli, who tell us that this is the man who killed the greatest composer of all time. Then we flash back to the successful earlier version of the man, who certainly would never have imagined this as his demise. Barford, who changes costume and wig a vista as a reminder that this is a continuous memory, plays even more varied moments than Darrow, if that is possible. Partly, this is due to the fact that Mozart wears his every mood on his multicolored sleeves—Amanda Gladu’s costumes are wonderful throughout—but mostly it is because Salieri hides so much of his real opinion that it has no choice but to rise up and overcome him for devastating soliloquies.

His breakdowns, especially one after he has thrown his rival’s scores across the floor, are utterly visceral. Most of the time, though, Barford allows his confused hatred to simmer inside, waiting for the explosion that will surely come.

The court, played by Robert Breuler, John Lister, Yasen Peyenkov, Joey Slotnick, and Gregory Linington as an affable Joseph II, illustrates the importance placed on conservativism here—Salieri is certainly not alone in disliking Mozart’s revolutionary compositions. The court composer, though, is the only one who, despite his plotting against him, recognizes his genius. (Perhaps Joseph II also does, and Gladu makes the ruler’s affinity with Mozart clear by dressing Linington in bright colors like the young composer and like no one else at court. Nonetheless, he allows himself to be ruled in this matter by his barons and counts.)

Also standing out is Jaye Ladymore as Mozart’s lover and then wife, Constanze. Like Barford, she needs to contend with opposing emotions simultaneously throughout their relationship, and like Darrow she allows herself to be very physical at times; she is fascinating in her own understated way.

Speaking of genius, Falls is all over this production. All those years at the Goodman honed him into a true actor’s director, and it is clear that his oversight here is not just moving people around the stage but in making sure characters and moments are as memorable they can be. Both Barford and Darrow have emotional breakdowns atop Mozart’s scores at moments when it is clear that the younger man’s musical gift is undeniable even though he is as broken as he can possibly be. I’ll be seeing each of them in my dreams for quite a while.

Falls has ample help here. In addition to Gladu’s costumes, Todd Rosenthal’s scenic design, (which conveys place easily with relatively few pieces of furniture and even places Joseph II in a lofted reverential space all his own); Eric Southern’s lighting (which includes a stunning scene lit by two chandeliers that have been lowered to the floor); and Connor Wong’s sound design all shine.

As the acting-first Steppenwolf celebrates its 50th anniversary, this 18-actor play seems a perfect fit. You’ll find it reverberating on your mind, too, proving that music is not God’s only art.

Amadeus, presented by the Steppenwolf Theatre, is highly recommended. Performances are scheduled to run until January 26. For more information and to purchase tickets, visit goodmantheatre.org.