On one level, this film must have been a nightmare for the filmmakers to make, because Carlos Kleiber never gave interviews or ran the PR-gamut that musicians now do. Thus the only footage of him in action is the rehearsal footage (also featured on another, separate DVD from another company), or still photographs, including rare shots of him with his wife as just regular folks on the street.
However, where the film scores is in getting people like Kleiber's sister, Veronika Kleiber, to reminisce about her brother, where her memories are quite touching. Likewise, orchestral musicians and opera stage collaborators who aren't big names get to lend their voices, in addition to more celebrated people like Placido Domingo, Brigitte Fassbaender, and Manfred Honeck. There isn't much in the way of criticism or sniping, as one might expect (except perhaps the one gentle allusion that he was quite the ladies' man, even when married). But that is a measure of the huge esteem in which fellow musicians and opera stage artists held him, and continue to hold him even after his death.
75 minutes is a somewhat odd length for a film, and some might initially consider it slightly short measure. However, working with the initial constraint mentioned at the start, this film makes for a good introduction to Carlos Kleiber the person, beyond Carlos Kleiber the musician via his recordings. By the end, the 75-minute length feels kind of just right. (Let's hope someone writes a full-scale biography of him at some point.)
BTW, the title is a rough paraphrase of the apparently Chinese/Buddhist concept expressed in the film that one should leave as little trace of one's presence in the world. Maybe that explains partly why he made so few commercial recordings, or conducted so few concerts in his life.