Peter Shaffer's play is now 43 years old and has entered the canon as a contemporary classic - a rich text of grand passions, treating Shaffer's recurring topic of a young man inspired by god and an older man longing for a similar connection (also featuring in "Equus" and "Royal Hunt of the Sun"), using grandly theatrical presentation to tell the tale whether it be in modern England, 16th century South America or, as in this case, 18th century Vienna. In this case, there's extensive direct address by Salieri as he uses the audience to give his confession (or perhaps brag) about his involvement in the death of Mozart, long arias of anger, rage, self-justification, and contempt. It's a marathon role for a leading actor, and it's a challenge for any amateur company to find a leading man who can bear the brunt of it.
Canberra Rep has certainly found the actor for the occasion. Jim Adamik's normally been seen as one of our finest comic actors, able to turn incredulousity to any ridiculous farcical turn, able to turn a quip with skill and with a fine line in buffoonery. He turns those skills into something much darker as Antonio Salieri, giving full force to Salieri's pleadings, wrath, and self-perception, finding tormented delight in Mozart's compositional genius even as he builds hatred for the man himself - plotting and subtly influencing behind the scenes to diminish Mozart's chances. We're in the hands of a master performer the entire evening, and it's an absolute pleasure.
Which is not to say that this is a one man show - there's a vast sea of support under Adamik to keep this rolling, whether it be Cate Clelland's assured flowing direction and stylishly simple set, Deborah Huff-Horwood's stylish costumes (with the assistance of a team of 14), Nathan Scibberas' assured lighting, grand presentation of the music from Neville Pye's sound team (with the assistance of Christine Faron and Justin Mullins on Fortepiano), and a strong supporting cast. Jack Shanahan's boisterous Mozart is sublimely irritating from his first entrance to desperately pitiable in his decline, Sienna Curnow's Costanze goes from playmate to wife to caregiver with joy and compassion, Neil McLeod, David H Bennett, Tony Falla and Ian Russell all deliver pomposity and grandness as various members of the Viennese court, and Michael J. Smith and Justice-Noah Malfitano as the gossipy Venticello bring style and flair whenever they appear.
This is grand, ambitious theatre, pure and marvellous. It's presented with style, verve, and, in Adamik's case, powerful intensity. It's a memorable production of a powerful play and is absoulutely recommended.
