Amadeus at Austin Playhouse

For better or worse, such ambition sets a high bar, one that can seem a magnifying glass to any flaws that might distract from the work’s intended goal: in this case, to examine man’s shortcomings in the face of creative perfection. A role as challenging and complex as any an actor could have played, Rick Roemer’s Salieri felt not quite ready for the necessary scope. Driving the majority of the production’s dialog from the perspective of the composer both as an old man and a young success, the character requires a full spectrum of the actor’s talent—but his consistent line hesitations were unfortunately too prominent to avoid distracting the foreword movement of the piece. And much of his supporting cast at times felt stiff even for the puritanical European aristocracy they play. It was too easy to remember they were acting—but, considering it was opening weekend, also easy to imagine that two weeks might prove all they need to hit their marks.

Oddly, in much the same way that the real Mozart outshone his adversary in the play, David Gallagher as the prodigious and maniacally eccentric prodigy melted any distractions with his whirlwind tour de force. He was captivating: rolling on the floor while his beautiful young fiancée slapped his ass, laughing throughout like a hyena excited to scavenge its meat, and falling apart with the kind of descent we expect from our greatest creators. His presence sparked the entire ensemble’s synergy, and both audience and cast seemed to miss him when he was off stage.

Evolving from linearly antagonistic into a more intricate picture of jealous appreciation, Salieri and Mozart’s relationship ultimately rewards its audience with the sort of complexities that makes for great theatre. A sparse set change that shifted the faux piano from backdrop to stage divide felt like a brilliant act of reverse Feng Shui, cutting the space the way the fabric of the two composers lives begin to split. And there’s the music. Interweaving the story, Mozart’s own canon graced the aural sound space with such impact, it sometimes felt as if it would be best to cut the lights and allow the audience to hear the voice of genius from beginning to end. This is not to discredit Amadeus but to acknowledge that sometimes great art can inspire, yet rarely be surpassed.