Jeff Smith, author of Film Criticism, the Cold War, and the Blacklist, tells the that Mozart’s struggle against the status quo tapped into Forman’s own frustrations with Soviet censorship. “The emperor’s fatuous judgment about Mozart’s opera – ‘too many notes’ – is just the kind of accusation that was used as a cudgel used against avant-garde artists and thinkers to imply their work isn’t pleasant or edifying to Soviet ears. Mozart’s enraged incredulity in that scene must have mirrored Forman’s own longstanding contempt for Soviet stagnation and repression.”
Amadeus behind the Iron Curtain
Shooting took place in 1983 over a six-month period in Prague, which had the virtue of offering basilicas, palaces and cobblestone squares virtually unchanged since the late 18th Century. Even with Soviet power waning, however, Czechoslovakia remained part of the Eastern bloc and Forman was still persona non grata, so a deal was struck: the director would refrain from meeting with political dissidents, and the regime would allow friends of Forman to visit with their repatriated prodigal son.
Forman’s own recollections from the shoot centred on the travails of Soviet interference. His landlady warned his phone is bugged. Informers lurked in every room. Two unmarked cars tailed him everywhere, which seemed redundant since his own driver was also a secret agent. In his autobiography, Turnaround, Forman is just shy of explicit about the degree to which themes of Soviet repression leaked into Amadeus. “As it had to be in the socialist Prague,” he wrote, “the spirit of Franz Kafka presided over our production”.
Perhaps even more telling is a story he recounts of negotiating with the general director of Czechoslovak film, Jiří Purš, who, as Forman recounted, wanted absolute assurance that the Communist Party would have nothing to fear: “I assume that politically there is nothing in the script that they could hang their hats on?” Forman’s reply is a model of plausible deniability and acid irony: “Look, it’s about Mozart!”
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F Murray Abraham felt the strain of coercive scrutiny as he was traveling back and forth to the United States to shoot his role in Scarface (1983) while Amadeus was in production in Prague.
Abraham tells the , “At the end of every shooting day I had to cross the border to get to the airport in Vienna to return to Hollywood. At the checkpoint, the Czechoslovak Police would make us sit idle at the gate, just as a way to throw their weight around, make you know who’s in charge. That sense of bullying and intimidation was everywhere, and even when the Czech people responded with subversive humor, the strain was palpable. We never forgot for a minute that we were under communist surveillance.”
That tension between the US crew and Soviet agents finally burst out into the open on 4 July. The production was shooting an opera scene, and the crew arranged so that when Forman yelled “action” a US flag unfurled and the national anthem played in lieu of Mozart’s music. Some 500 Czech extras burst forth into emotional song, in effect revealing their sympathies with the West. But not all of them.
Forman recalled, “All stood up – except 30 men and women, panic on their face, looking at each other [asking] what they should do. They were the secret police, dispersed among the extras.”
