Humane is the indictment under the caper. The spine is One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest: the institution that defines sanity and pathologizes the nonconformist, the question of who is actually the sane one — except Mozart is McMurphy granted what McMurphy never gets, outliving the System and dying free at ninety-four, with a benevolent inverse of Nurse Ratched at his side. The obsessive lawman undone by his inability to accept a redemption is Les Misérables by name; a bedside Count of Monte Cristo waves deliberately at the wrongful-imprisonment-and-vindication lineage; the eccentric threading through a nation’s history carries a dry, subversive Forrest Gump flavor. And the deepest move — a journalist setting his story down as Mozart Lindberg, According to Mozart Lindberg, restoring the human behind the case number — is the confessional-restoration frame in which the biography becomes the vindication the System denied: “human beings are more complex than their files suggest.” Transcendent is where it’s most itself: the literal ascension — man and moped lifting into the sky — is E.T.’s bicycle against the moon, and the whole register of a tall-tale life where legend and man blur, the community gathering to honor a fabulist, the magical death, is Tim Burton’s Big Fish almost exactly. The recurring Zarathustra scoring an octogenarian on a forty-kroner moped is the boldest texture choice in the piece, ironic and sincere at once — and it pays off when the absurd finally becomes, in the script’s own words, “absurd. And magnificent.”