It's difficult for me to write an impersonal view of this film - or of its companion 'Traces to Nowhere' because it had an emotional and intellectual impact on me that's still buzzing weeks after I first watched it. In fact I'm repeating some of what I wrote in the 'Traces' review, on the grounds that there are only so many photographs you can take from the summit of K2.
It's a film that fires the imagination - like, what would it have been like to play with him conducting? Even to be in the audience? You get to see something of his particular conducting technique - with eyes and fingers and butterfly-baton - but I treasure especially his metaphors (he had six languages) ... preparing for the Liebestod, he says that Isolde is on her way to her first communion, she is in ecstasy and it's the audience that's heartbroken. On another occasion he clarifies his direction by telling the orchestra 'it's like making love to the same woman, but in a different position.' How does one get to be as masterful and beautiful in six different languages?
Watching the excerpts from the New Year's Day concerts from Vienna, I had the insight that he conducts the VPO as if they were a Bavarian band and the Bavarian band as if they were the VPO. My Dad, who idolised Beethoven and died well before Kleiber came on the scene, would have been stunned by this; I can feel him on my shoulder whether I be laughing, crying, or simply entranced.