Original subtitles

You're shocked. I don't blame you. It's a shocking thing to hear.

Why? Why share this with me?

Why not tell this to a priest or a constable?

You and I have no great bond.

Or had you forgotten what you did?

But we have the greatest bond, Frau Mozart.

We have him.

Hey, Mozart. They're ready for you.

Hey, Mozart. They're ready for you.

Oh!

Oh!

Oh!

Oh!

Oh!

Oh!

Thanks for taking care of you, you know.

Ah, Antonio, where's Salieri? Oh, I'm from Salieri, it's the Salieri. You came?

Yes, we came.

Congratulations.

Thank you so much, thank you.

Your bride is on a table.

Yes, I don't know why.

You know, I've been thinking about it, and I forgive you for what happened when you didn't defend me.

I really do. I mean, I understand it now. You're in a very difficult position.

We all know how beholden you are to this emperor, all the constraints and the rules.

It's no wonder that some of your things don't fly.

You're like a big, beautiful bird in a cage.

I could never do what you do.

It drives me absolutely fucking mad.

I hope there's a new one coming, though. Is that true?

Yes. La scuola di gelato.

La scuola di gelato. Ice cream school.

Gelos.

Ah, gelos. School of jealousy.

Well, Stanzi's sister is going up for a part.

Very good singer.

Pretty fucking mental, but lovely singing, boys.

Please, make yourselves at home.

Enjoy these sausages and gherkins.

Thanks.

Bye.

Bye.

Bye.

Bye.

Bye.

He didn't come to the wedding.

Who?

Father.

Father did mine.

I suppose he is dead, so I have to forgive him.

You should write to him.

Tell him off.

Maybe I will.

Come now. You're getting better, your majesty.

What's the punishment of lying to an emperor, do you think?

Is it flogging or beheading?

There are people in this palace who drag you out into the garden

and beat you to death with rocks, if I ask them to.

All of them, actually.

You still have some way to go, but you are improving, majesty.

My niece, Elizabeth, is coming to Vienna.

She needs a music tutor, lest she ends up like her uncle.

Princess, your majesty, I would be honoured to...

I'm sure you would a core composer, but...

No, I think the princess would like somebody a little bit more...

A bit more...

Oh, I don't know.

Vibrant.

Well, she's young.

You understand what I'm trying to say?

Yes, I think I do, sir.

She had a rather fun idea.

How about Mozart?

Mozart?

I think she might rather like that.

He tutors, surely?

I've heard the boy play.

I mean, God, if he can rub some of that off on my niece,

then so much the better.

How is he, anyway?

I was worried that he was a bit wounded by my critique on his opening night.

Well, he's written about 200 concertos and got married since then,

so I think he's doing fine, sir.

Yes, I was hoping that he might be given a chance to write something new for us.

Another brothel set fantasy with too many notes, perhaps.

Perhaps a little more judiciousness in your handling of him next time, but...

You know, it's funny.

I went away from that opera.

I couldn't stop thinking about it.

It's gone under my skin somehow.

We need to be bolder, Antonia.

You were right at getting you to restage Tarare.

It was...

A success.

It was safe.

A copy of a Parisian hit, that's what my sister called it.

You know, courage is what's needed now.

Courage in court and in government.

We need to be brave, Antonia.

Brave men win the day, do they not?

Of course, Your Majesty.

I'll let you give Mozart the good news about Elizabeth.

Wonderful.

My goodness, Rupert.

Have you been practising?

Um...

Yes.

Yes, now I can tell you've really improved, haven't you?

I kid, of course.

I jest, I jape, I make merry.

I can tell that you're lying, Rupert.

I can tell you have not been practising.

In fact, what you just produced leads me to question whether you haven't actually discovered something that is sort of the reverse of practising.

A kind of not practising so powerful as to completely undo all of the accumulated knowledge of our previous session.

A sort of anti-practice.

Have you cultivated an irrational fear of competency, perhaps?

Did somebody perform rudimentary surgery and replace your ten fingers with flaccid baby cocks, Rupert?

Do you have flaccid baby cocks for fingers, Rupert?

Have you even touched this fucking harpsichord a single time since I walked out of that door a week ago?

No, I didn't think so.

And that's why you're not playing it very well.

Now, I'm going to go and use your privy in the hope that the noise of my intestinal fluctuations are more pleasing than whatever the fuck you just try to fart out of these keys.

Are he be cocks for fingers?

Yes.

I'm going to run out of students.

Don't worry.

Everybody in this town wants to learn a violin or forte piano or a fucking triangle.

I've got a letter from your father who came on your sleep.

Like an assassin?

Mm-hmm.

Mm-hmm.

Let me see.

Don't worry. It's just his way.

He doesn't deserve you.

He definitely deserves me.

Poor old bastard.

Right.

I might be a little bit late this evening.

Mm-hmm.

Bring some people back with me.

Do you mind?

No.

Your sister is a great talent.

Thanks.

I'm sorry.

You did come to see me, didn't you?

No.

No.

No.

No.

No.

No.

No.

No.

No.

No.

No.

No.

No.

No.

No.

No.

No.

No.

No.

No.

No.

No.

No.

No.

No.

Olysses said that you...

Yes.

Yes.

Yes.

I hear your husband lost another pupil.

Yes.

He did.

Yeah.

Well, as luck would have it, a new job has become available.

A royal appointment actually.

Princess Elizabeth.

A princess?

The princess.

Now, tutoring her is a position that will hold significant standing in the court and beyond.

I mean, he'd be perfect for it. He's a brilliant tutor.

My playing has come out so much, and that's just what I said to him.

I'm wondering if you might bring me his manuscripts,

so that I can properly consider his work and make his case to the Emperor?

Yes, of course.

Bring the works to my residence. Newer ones, if possible.

And I ask that we keep this strictly between us.

Absolutely.

Well, I'll go and get them right away. Thank you.

All right.

A young lady is here to see you, son.

Yes.

Send her in.

Constanza.

Herr Salieri.

Come on.

Please.

I'm telling you.

Hop yourself to a treat.

Er, from Verna's.

My footman gets them.

Do you know Verna's in town?

Mm-hmm.

Very good bakery.

So these are his newest works?

All from the last month or so.

All this from the last month?

Or so.

Do you think I could keep these?

You're too, too loco.

I don't think that, um...

Well, he doesn't know I've come here.

And he'll miss them.

He doesn't make copies.

These are originals?

Mm-hmm.

Dear God.

Do you mind if I...

No, please?

So what do you think?

Could you speak to the emperor in his behalf?

No, please.

No, please.

No, please.

So what do you think?

Could you speak to the emperor in his behalf?

Yes, I could speak to the emperor.

Put his name for it.

But know that to do so would be a cost on my God.

It would be a cost.

There are many powerful men who could give me something

in return for my health.

You don't have anything to do?

No, please.

No, please.

No, please.

No, please.

No, please.

No, please.

No, please.

No, please.

No, please.

No, please.

No, please.

No, please.

No, please.

No, please.

We don't have anything we could give you.

No.

I thought you wanted to help us.

Yes.

Well, I do.

I do.

Of course I do.

But you are a woman.

I am a man.

This is the way of things now.

Is it really so awful the thought of it?

The idea of it?

Is it so high a price to pay for what I am offering?

You do understand what I am offering.

You do understand what I am offering.

You must never know.

You must never know.

You must never know.

I am a woman.

Like you said.

So where should we do it?

Should we do it here?

Or in the bedroom?

You have to be delicate.

Do you understand?

Get dressed.

Why?

Have you changed your mind?

You're just so dressed.

The princess.

Yes, I'll speak to the emperor.

Forgive my sinful mind and my temptation.

I walked to the edge but I didn't go over it, didn't you?

You pulled me back.

And I commend myself to you.

I know your testing me is right.

Perhaps in your divine wisdom you felt you'd given me too much already.

Terraria was a success.

I thought the next one will be too.

And I am grateful.

I am so grateful.

And I commend myself to you.

To purity.

This ends now.

I swear.

I swear.

I swear.

I swear.

I swear.

not I swear.

dear wolfgang i write to you now as a father a position which i understand you are soon to

occupy yourself i have great concerns about you and much that we need to talk about

i wonder if you will now understand this better once

he looks like a tomato

has he said anything yet um no no very rude child very rude how was it i shit myself

what are you trying to write

what are you trying to write a mass a mass yes you know celebration for what

for becoming a father oh and how is that going

bad as well as this fucking mess

dear wolfgang i have concerns about you and much that we need to talk about

i hear you've been making a spectacle of yourself i hear hardly anything of your talent and i hear even less of your success

you embarrass our good name a child masquerading as a composer outstanding arrogance to think you know better than your own father

the years your mother and i spent on you train for so long so hard you must listen to me insolent fool abject failure to salvage your reputation

come back

come back

you

come back

come back

come back

come back

Hello.

You're having a night, Lear.

Let's have a look at you.

I do love you.

I think I do.

I think that's what this is.

Do you feel loved?

Me?

Can I ask you a question?

Do you like me to love you, Raymond?

No, I'm just asking.

Just asking.

What you do is piss and shit and suck on my wife's tits.

You stole my act.

Why can't I finish your fucking mouse, Raymond?

Why can't I finish your fucking mouse, Raymond?

I don't care.

I don't care.

I don't care for it.

I don't care for it.

I'm sorry?

I don't care for it.

I don't care for it.

I'm sorry?

I don't care for it.

I don't care for it.

I don't care for it.

I don't care for it.

I'm sorry?

Music.

Yes, I wondered if that might be the problem.

Would you like to sit next to me?

On the stool?

Of course.

I don't care for it.

I don't care for it.

I don't care for it.

I'm sorry?

Music.

Yes, I wondered if that might be the problem.

Would you like to sit next to me?

Would you like to, um, sit next to me on the stool?

Of course.

The last teacher I had was even younger than you.

Used to, um, rub himself under the clever cord as I played.

Did he?

Yes.

He put a finger inside me once.

My father found out and had his hand cut off.

That was just before I was sent to live here.

Shall we, uh, start again from the top?

Oh, we can start from whichever end you like, Herr Mozart.

Very good.

Fucking hell.

Okay, Your Highness.

Whenever you're ready.

I'm just going to, uh, watch from over here.

I'm going away, the gift, the God gave the years I've spent on the road with you.

The opportunities I lost.

The time I spent.

Come back to Salzburg.

You cannot continue to ignore me, Wolfgang.

Come back to Salzburg.

You must listen to me.

Fight!

Then I'll shut you up.

Stanza!

Pack your trunk, we're going away.

Where?

Salzburg.

He used to feed every two hours or so, but it's been going down lately.

Her night he used to sleep quite badly.

He needs his bedclothes cleaned.

Child, I've raised four girls.

I think we can look after a baby.

Well, this one has a cock, so don't get startled and chop it off by mistake.

We'll write you when we get there and we don't find a statement at the end of the month.

Off we go.

Enough faffing.

Bye, Raymond.

Hmm.

Sometimes just you and me.

Without this small goat lying between us.

Kicking us with his tiny hooves.

Do us good, I think.

Don't talk about that.

It was a joke.

Mozart had taken you, his beautiful wife, on a sojourn away from the city.

And in his absence, piano was mine once again.

I released my newest opera, La Scuola de Gelosi, to great acclaim.

What do we do to do to my wife?

How old is she!

Nope, you go to the valley of my spouse, We pull them through my hair,

way to love a baby!

I'm sorry, I'm sorry means to love you.

I'm sorry!

No, not any fear for my wife!

I'm sorry for my wife, I'm sorry for my wife!

There are a perfect time on.

A good, a great, a great, a good lady, who has shot her with me.

Are you jealous, no, maybe he's as bad as I'm scared.

Are you injured?

Is he died?

I'm sorry!

Are you and I'm sorry!

Are you?

Everybody's Hag and I'm sorry.

It was such a hit, in fact, that my librettes

to Ponte and I even considered a sequel.

The idea was abandoned, but offered to another composer who reworked it into a new piece.

You'll know it by the name Cosifantuti, but then I tried not to dwell on such details.

For a while, I reveled in my success and position, as if nothing had ever changed.

Little did I know what was coming.

This is where you grew up?

Would Master Wolfgang care for some supper, perhaps?

Or would sir prefer to go straight to his bedchambers?

Straight to the bedchamber, please, Floyd.

Very good, sir.

Morning, Florian.

Morning, Master Wolfgang.

Where is my father?

Left early this morning, sir.

He expects to return in a day or two.

You told him that we arrived last night, yes?

Oh, indeed, yes, sir.

Very good.

First piece I ever wrote.

The piano I wrote it on.

Where's your father?

Gone somewhere for a few days, I don't know.

But he knows we've arrived.

Yes, he does.

Here's my father.

Come on.

Here we are.

Here we are...

I don't know.

Hello.

Good to see you.

You too.

We're having chicken.

We've been here for three days.

Oh.

I had business out of town.

Well, you knew we were coming.

Where's your wife?

Getting changed.

Into what?

Is there wine?

You know, I wrote to you for months.

You didn't reply.

I've been busy.

Oh, yes, I hear that.

I hear you've been very busy.

I hear you drink.

I hear you throw lavish parties.

Here we go.

I hear you've been making a spectacle of yourself.

Or am I wrong?

Too many notes.

Don't think that in a filter.

The emperor does not know anything about music, does he?

Is this cognac, brandy?

Take anything at this point.

My greatest fear when you left Salzburg was that this would happen.

That what would happen?

That you would squander your gift.

I'm not squandering anything.

Teaching the princess piano.

Did you not know about that?

I thought you'd be impressed.

That's one hour of your week accounted for.

What of the rest?

Why do I not hear any tales of triumph and glory?

Just stories of an insolent fool dancing around an apartment he can barely afford with some pauper's daughter on his arm.

And Mozart?

You should call me Popper.

Your father is dead.

He won't mind.

My mother also forbade the wedding, by the way.

He weren't the only one.

She did attend it, though.

You think me rude?

What would you call it?

I'm a straightforward man.

I don't feign enthusiasm when I do not feel any.

I don't send regards where I do not feel they are warranted.

How is my grandson?

Wolfgang.

He cries when he doesn't get exactly what he wants.

Pairs no attention to anyone else's feelings, needs, or desires, so we can be sure he's a Mozart at least.

I'm glad to have finally met you.

I told you Vienna would not be impressed with your frivolities.

Oh, you think the Imperial Opera indulges nonsense?

An opera set in a whorehouse.

That was your grand entrance?

Yes.

Was it worth it?

For you to get a dressing down on stage from the Emperor in front of everybody?

Was that what we were working so hard towards all those years, all those miles?

I'm talking to you.

Yes.

What about a follower?

I assume you have plans to try and salvage your reputation?

I've written hundreds of things I write every day.

Father, don't worry.

Thank you very much.

Looking forward to the chicken.

What about a follow-up, then?

Well, obviously, I have been a little bit distracted.

I have a basset hound who I'm trying to train.

He can follow basic commands, except for when he sees a pigeon, when he completely forgets

what he was doing and sits there drooling slightly.

I can forgive him this, because he's an imbecile, and he is a basset hound.

But you are not a basset hound, Wolfgang.

Your ears are not long and soft.

You do not have a rounded muzzle or a glossy coat.

You are a man.

Something colourful should be able to float into view without knocking every last intelligent

thought from your mind.

Grow up.

You're distracted.

No one cares.

Your first opera was a failure.

You haven't written a second one.

That should alarm you as much as it does me.

What's his name?

What?

The basset hound.

Gregor.

Well, that's a bit of a silly name, Papa.

Well, Wolfgang was already taken.

You are throwing away the gift that God gave you.

Not you as well.

Wolfgang.

They're my gifts, so they're mine to do what I want with.

No, they are not.

You tell him.

Maybe he'll listen to you.

People have died for your talents.

Beg your pardon?

Your mother is in the ground.

No flowers on her grave.

No mourners to tend it.

Left to rot in a cold corner of a Parisian church, 500 miles away from home.

Because you...

She was ill.

She was ill and you didn't send for me.

It's not true.

It's true.

It's true.

And you know it's true.

And you can drink and whore and play as loud as you can.

But you know she stands in the dark and watches you.

And she weeps at what you're doing with the gift that she gave her life for, you selfish little bastard.

Why do you behave like that?

Hmm?

Why?

Like what?

Wolfgang.

Like the great Amadeus Mozart who teaches piano to princesses and writes ditties for babies.

Our baby.

It's the one piece you've never been able to finish.

Perhaps you can't write a celebration for something you don't actually celebrate.

You know I spent five minutes with your father and I have to say I'm not a fan.

But he's right.

People have made sacrifices for you.

They have.

They've humiliated themselves.

Twisted themselves into what you needed because we see what you are.

What you could be but you need to earn that.

You're not a little boy writing minuets anymore.

You're a man.

At least you're fucking supposed to be.

As you've lived in.

Why are you playing?

In this world we camp for a while we walk.

You're a woman.

Oh, my God.

Oh, my God.

Oh, my God.

The composer?

Which one?

Wolfgang.

Sir, I'm sorry to tell you that your son is dead.

He succumbed to a fever shortly after you left.

I'm sorry to tell you that your son is dead.

Oh, my God.

She needs rest.

A proper bed.

Wolfgang.

Wolfgang.

Good speed on your travels.

What?

Oh, my God.

Ah!

That's the last time I leave you with a baby.

Oh, Wolfgang.

Is she dressed?

She's in bed. She's asleep.

I've never seen anybody sleep like this.

What am I supposed to do?

Have another.

Have another before the grief is allowed to settle.

Only joy can dispel grief, joy, and light, and love, and music.

God.

God.

God.

God.

God.

God.

amwyआ

Raymond is ready to perform.

People keep saying to me that God speaks through me.

Well, now he's taken our son.

Maybe we can speak back.

And if it's in your voice, I think you might hear it.

And if it's in your voice, I think you might hear it.

And if it's in your voice, I think you might hear it.

And if it's in your voice, I think you might hear it.

And if it's in your voice, I think you might hear it.

And if it's in your voice, I think you might hear it.

Christe, Christe, Jesus.

Christe, Christe, Jesus.

Christe, Christe, Christe, Jesus.

Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Jesus.

Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christe, Christ

I might hear your voice and now I do hear it and it says only one name and it's not

mine you chose him a foul spiteful shit-talking bastard Mozart to be your

sole conduit and my my sublime pleasure is to be the one man alive in this time

I can clearly recognize your incarnation you give me just enough talent to know how

little I truly possess

it's a wonderful job

so be it

from this time on we are enemies you and I

are not accepted from you I won't

they say God is not mocked I tell you not

you are the enemy I name thee now and this I swear to my last breath I will block you on this earth I will block you and your vessel as far as I am able

I will block you on this earth I will block you and your vessel as far as I am able

diminish the man, diminish the God

kill the man, kill the God

kill the man, kill the God

kill the God

kill the God

kill the God

kill the God

kill the God

kill the God

kill the God

kill the God

kill the God

kill the God

kill the God

kill the God

kill the God

kill the God

kill the God

kill the God

kill the God

kill the God

kill the God

kill the God