If, like me, you were enraptured by Michael Haneke’s 2012 Palme d’Or-winning film Amour, then this disc should come to you with great promise. Following the harrowing opening sequence of the film, Alexandre Tharaud’s performance of the C minor Impromptu sets in motion the husband and wife’s march towards their unbearably poignant ending. Later on Tharaud, who also makes a brief appearance as the wife’s star former pupil, has sent the couple his latest Schubert disc. As the husband listens, he imagines his wife again at the piano, this time in the G flat Impromptu, and only three quarters of the way into the film, this is the last music the audience hears. These two scenes are all the more affecting thanks to the integrity and humility of Tharaud’s performances.

In his new recording, the Frenchman has moved away from naturalness and elegance in the direction of spasmodic distortion, particularly of the smaller rhythmic figures. The presumably intended forward momentum and leaning of phrases into one another often crosses the line between excitement and breathlessness, resulting in rushed culminations (as in the first Impromptu from 4'45"). Compare this to Radu Lupu’s perfect balance between patient structuring and individuality of phrasing, between lyricism and anguish. Similarly, in the third and most lied-like Impromptu, Tharaud is no match for Lupu in subtlety of voicing and expressiveness. Here again, the singing quality is anything but enhanced by what I take to be Tharaud’s search for a more orchestral texture, which leads him in the second Impromptu only into heaviness and over-pedalling. What a difference here between him and Lupu and Perahia, who pirouette en pointe during the rippling figurations, heightening the contrast with the dramatic second theme.

Compared to his earlier recording of the Moments musicaux, Tharaud is less temperamental but still far removed from the intuitiveness of Brendel, the individuality and charm of Uchida or indeed the simple elegance of Pires. The nerviness – mannerism even – of the F minor, No 3, makes me wonder if he had in the back of his mind Cherkassky’s sublime mischief, so perfect for his rendition of Godowsky’s elaboration.

No hint of Godowskian souping-up in Tharaud’s own transcriptions of Schubert’s incidental music for Rosamunde, where his playing is at its most natural and centred. Notwithstanding some muscle-flexing in the first Entr’acte, these arrangements are relatively modest compared to those by, say, Rudolph Ganz or Leff Pouishnoff. The exceptionally meagre booklet notes provide no further information on Tharaud’s intentions here. In any case, only in such moments as the third Entr’acte (recycled by Schubert for other works, including the B flat Impromptu in the set not included on this album) is some of Haneke’s magisterial discretion emulated.