Review: Jefferson Mays Is Deliciously Diabolical as Antonio Salieri in Amadeus

In Peter Shaffer’s Amadeus, Antonio Salieri may proclaim himself the patron saint of mediocrity, but Jefferson Mays, who plays him in this new Pasadena Playhouse production, is a patron saint of distinction. His transcendent performance will be remembered for shaping the character into someone sharp, broken, and unexpectedly hilarious.

In the early 19th century Vienna, the once revered musical hack Antonio Salieri (Mays) moans to anyone who can hear that he murdered Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (Sam Clemmett) 30 years ago.  As Salieri narrates, we see Mozart’s years as an embarrassment to the Austrian court while only Salieri would recognize his genius and lasting impact on music. Despite Salieri’s acclaim in the royal court, he recognizes his inferiority to Mozart and his envy consumes him from within. He chooses to destroy the young virtuoso and, counsels him to make choices that will lead to Mozart’s undoing.

Shaffer has developed several versions of the play over the years, and this production’s was first performed in 2005. The ending scenes, including a different conclusion between Salieri and Mozart, feel more deliberate and drawn out than in other versions.

Mays is mesmerizing. He measures his tone between mischievous and distraught. Bereft of his wig and baring teeth that seem black, he imbues Salieri with a gleefully ghoulish hysteria. He never allows the audience to respect Salieri, but he brings the audience close to him, making us co-conspirators. In a more restrained portrayal of Mozart, Clemmett is cherubic as the bad boy of the music world—less uncontrollably giggly and bawdy, but just as egocentric.

As Mozart’s wife, Constanze, Lauren Worsham has the widest emotional scope—from innocent and girlishly ribald to exasperated to desperate to heartbroken—and she portrays it all wonderfully. The excellent ensemble includes talented operatic voices that bring Mozart’s virtuosity to the theater. Standouts are Matthew Patrick Davis as the hapless King from the house of Hapsburg, who wanders about like a model on a catwalk, and John Lavelle as the foppish buffoon Count Orsini-Rosenberg.

Director Darko Tresnjak adds pageantry with luscious stagecraft. Alexander Dodge’s sets create vastness with an ornate ballroom that gets smaller and smaller.  Aaron Rhyne projects images onto a tapestry that gives them texture, while Linda Cho’s costumes are sumptuous.

Amadeus, Peter Shaffer’s memorable play of talent and envy, is an absolute treat, as filling as Austrian meringue and as challenging as Kafka. Jefferson Mays leads this tour-de-force production with humor, grace, and a delicious degree of malice.