O Gênio e Excêntrico Glenn Gould em 32 Curtas

I saw this on DVD and enjoyed it thoroughly. The means of portraying a person - through short and disconnected vignettes - was surprisingly natural. When you think about it, this is often how we learn about people: a collection of stories, incidents, things their friends say about them, memories from childhood. Not only that, but it nicely parallels some of the music, such as the short pieces in Bach's Well-Tempered Klavier. Each has a different mood, but together they paint a complete picture. This movie is a lot of fun for anyone who is fond of classical music and willing to experiment a little bit with film.

This film was a real treat for me. Being a fan of Gould and loving the music of Bach, I was totally fascinated during the entire film, and wished for "thirty-two" more opportunities to peer into the life of this incredible musician. He was obsessed with his health, and had weird views, but he played Bach like an angel.

Glenn Gould may have been a weird bird but he was also a great pianist. These pieces reflect many aspects of his character form his joy of music ( dancing in the recording studio) to his daily pill regime. Colin Feore is convincing as the tormented Gould. I also like the fact that people who knew Gould were interviewed. Computer graphics make several pieces stimulating and the story of how he played the stock market to his advantage is fascinating. Rent it for the music and find a complex man who made Bach's music talk to me on a personal level.

Let me preface this review by saying: the music of Bach permeates my existence. Over the years, I've listened to nearly every recording there is, repeatedly. That said, I had trouble watching this movie. The first time I tried, I quit after five minutes. Last evening, I made it all the way through. While at times moving, the film disturbs.

For one, it does not do visual justice to the music. Bach's compositions are not about waving hands in the air, geometry animations, or men walking off into infinity. They're complex literary statements. This variety of music is akin to the best silent cinema; it says volumes, but without words. Like pantomime, it tells a nuanced story, weaving multiple plot lines together into an evocative fabric. Few of the 32 vignettes approached that ideal. Could it be that some of Bach's greatest admirers fail to grasp the deeper meaning within the music?

In addition, Gould's personal faults grate on the nerves. It's clear he wasn't an ideal specimen. He mistook music for life. Music is a condiment, a catalyst perhaps. It frames life, drawing attention to worthy matters. It spices and enlivens life, making it savory. But it is not life. His mind was filled with picture frames, but no pictures. He fell in love with music in the same way that parrots sometimes mistakenly bond with their human owners. They are not parrots, and music is not a woman. One wonders how Bach might greet Gould in heaven: "So, the bachelor thinks he understands the man with two wives and twenty children? Let's see what kind of music you'll play after we give you a well-rounded life."

As a moviegoer with not much expertise on classical music, or interest in film without a coherent narrative, Thirty Two Short Films About Glenn Gould is a bit of a challenge. Certainly I was aware of Gould's reputation; this film also incorporates animation by Norman McLaren, another Canadian legend.

A curious hybrid of fictionalized biography and documentary, the film is indeed slightly fractured, but not as much as the comically inept Leonard Maltin whined about. Its pieces come together to tell more of running story than you'd think. It's true someone thirsting for more action and events may come away disappointed, but there is drama and humour here. Above all, what links the story together is the passionate and energetic piano playing of Glenn Gould himself, enough to inspire even a person without much of an ear for classic music.