Is Richter really an enigma? This epic documentary was originally titled ‘Richter l’insoumis’, meaning anything from ‘irrepressible’ to ‘indomitable’. Constructed around interviews with Richter, his wife, and fellow luminaries such as Glenn Gould and Rubinstein, it certainly reveals him as both – the precocious genius who never practised scales and chords, but instead launched into Chopin Etudes, and who lists his three masters as his father, his mentor Neuhaus and, startlingly, Wagner. And in his last years Monsaingeon’s camera captures, not the grim scowl and prognathous jaw, but an urbane egotist whose deceptively naive charm must have helped him sail through life under the Soviet regime he despised, surviving to shed gentle vitriol on contemporaries. Prokofiev patronised him as ‘fit for Rachmaninov’; Richter played at his funeral – ‘Rachmaninov!’ he adds, with a lethal twinkle. Among other victims are Oistrakh and Karajan.
Against this anecdotal ambience, though, are set some 50 performance extracts which capture the electrifying reality of Richter’s playing – his vast repertoire, including Berg’s Kammerkonzert, and the penetrating, expressive intensity which offsets his virtuoso eloquence and massive dynamics. It is not too fanciful, watching them, to see him possessed and shaped by the score, especially in his native repertoire. Even those who are not primarily piano aficionados can hardly fail to respond. We even glimpse him happily playing Liszt – man, as well as music – in a cameo film role.
Unlike videotape, DVD allows each excerpt to be accessed swiftly via its ‘chapter’, and its image quality enhances even elderly material. The worst flaw of this fascinating montage is that, although skilfully edited, it leaves one dangling, desperate to hear every single piece complete.'