By the time the series breaks the fourth wall, Salieri transcends this story and becomes an avatar for all the depraved things desperate men will do when they’re convinced they deserve more than they’ve got. All of Amadeus’s contemporaneous stylistic and dialogue choices are a blast, but the series’ suggestion that this kind of guy is plaguing our present, too, feels the most timeless, and the most unsettling.

It does what every worthwhile adaptation does (and what so many other recent re-adaptations have failed to do), which is make the story feel complete unto itself.

Sharpe is delectable in the role, precocious yet understated, and with an ambition both formidable and naïve, masking the pressure he’s under from his father, who wants him to move back to Salzburg so he can manage him. Bettany, meanwhile, is brilliantly restrained, seething with jealousy and repression.

It’s an intriguing balance of themes that, at five hours, also starts to feel spread a bit thin at times. .... Still, a trio of strong performances and the chance to watch some elaborately staged versions of Mozart’s most famous operas go a long way towards keeping things engaging—especially when the finale sticks the landing so powerfully.

This Mozart is more of a straightforward working artist, alcoholic and skirt chaser. This makes for a Mozart who is more rueful and sympathetic but not much more interesting, and Sharpe gives a somewhat dutiful performance. .... The revisions have one happy result: Barton’s Salieri is a more nuanced and interesting character, with motivations more grounded in everyday life. Bettany takes full advantage in his meticulously controlled performance; we can feel the rot eating him from within. .... The question his [Joe Barton's] “Amadeus” raises is, why “Amadeus”?

There are plenty of bits of hits, but missing is the play’s probing examination of quite why Mozart is so new and astonishing.

Bettany as Salieri does well with a script that offers him no chance to compete with F Murray Abraham’s Oscar-winning performance. Sharpe as Mozart is, likewise, hampered, but even controlling for the script’s banality, his performance is a thin, half-hearted thing.