The great pianist Glenn Gould is often caricatured as a crazy hermit somewhere between Syd Barrett and Howard Hughes; Gould wore overcoats and gloves in hot summer and abandoned the concert stage at the height of his career. This thoughtful biodoc rescues Gould from the cliches and re-establishes him as a musician. Was he a recluse? Hardly, he became a prolific broadcaster with a Pythonesque sense of humour. A classical music snob? No, he cheerfully recorded a radio show about Petula Clark. An ascetic? No, he had a passionate relationship with a married woman and became a much-loved, temporary stepfather to her children. Undoubtedly, Gould was an eccentric and a hypochondriac, but this film argues for his human vulnerability.
Peter Bradshaw is the Guardian's film critic