Near the end of Celibidache!, a tepid documentary about the temperamental and polarizing orchestral maestro Sergiu Celibidache, there's a none-too-subtle shot of its octogenarian subject shuffling over a small hill in his garden. After holding that image a few beats longer than necessary, director Serge Ioan Celibidache (the composer's son) cuts to him conducting a performance of Mozart's "Requiem" by the Munich Philharmonic Orchestra. Then, it's back to the old man creeping ever-so-slightly back down the hill, his body slowly disappearing from the frame. Cut again to the performance footage, return to the hill, then back to the "Requiem," and so on. While this is not the most scintillating example of cross-cutting since the baptism sequence in The Godfather, the younger Celibidache may have believed that the film's languorous rhythms were an appropriate tribute to his late father, who was renowned for his crawling tempos. But at 145 minutes, Celibidache! could use judicious trimming, not least because its three basic setups—the maestro conducting, teaching his young apprentices, or lounging in his garden—lack the richness of a full orchestra. Much like the recent documentary Stanley Kubrick: A Life In Pictures, a film assembled by the subject's brother-in-law, Celibidache! is too personally involved to question the methods of a demanding, eccentric, and controversial genius. In many respects the Bobby Knight of the late-20th-century classical set, Celibidache was reviled by some for his arrogance, his temper, and his vicious criticism of his contemporaries, but he also inspired the intense loyalty of his fans and students, who found his instruction worth the abuse. One of the maestro's biggest quirks was his refusal to put his live performances on record, which he felt flattened out the sound to such a degree that he once likened it to going to bed with a photograph of Brigitte Bardot. Until recently, Celibidache enthusiasts had to settle for poor bootleg recordings, so at the very least, the documentary offers a chance to see and hear rare footage of the man at work. In its most affecting moments, Celibidache! also reveals how his true legacy gets passed on through enthusiastic students who were willing to absorb his stinging barbs along with the enduring wisdom, insight, and warm humor that accompanied them. But only the man's most ardent admirers could treasure the frequent cutaways to Celibidache in his garden, playing with his dogs, tossing bread into the duck pond, or waxing poetic about the leaves changing color. As a son's gesture to his father, Celibidache! recasts a complicated figure in a freshly reverent light, but the son's reluctance to leave even trivial moments on the cutting-room floor smacks of sycophancy.