Early in Michèle Hozer and Peter Raymont's enlightening documentary, Genius Within: The Inner Life of Glenn Gould, an interviewee calls the pianist not just an icon, but a mythical figure like James Dean. It's a valid comparison: they were young, brooding contemporaries who seemed to come out of nowhere to make a huge impact on the American cultural landscape in 1955-6. Dean hit big with the one, two punch of East of Eden and Rebel Without a Cause in 1955, giving voice to a generation of postwar teenagers. Gould recorded a radical reinterpretation of J.S. Bach's Goldberg Variations as his American debut, an album that became a surprise bestseller in January 1956, shaking up the staid classical repertoire and influencing performers across the musical spectrum.

But consider Gould's outlandish eccentricities, his maddening inability to adhere to prescribed behavior, and his refusal to meet the expectations of fame, and he was actually more like Dean's peer Marlon Brando. So much of that brilliance was fueled into finding his own mode of expression, and as a solo artist and technological innovator, he had advantages the Method actor lacked. As much as self-imposed isolation fueled his creative output, Gould had a powerful need to connect with others, and Genius Within explores the difficulties inherent in balancing these impulses. It might even be called The Double Life of Glenn Gould: he could focus with immense concentration, effectively shutting people out, but also possessed an insouciant charisma, which drew them in.

Hozer and Raymont go right into that meteoric rise after his arrival in New York and the impact of the Goldberg Variations (or the "Gouldbergs" as a ex-girlfriend wryly dubs them), and then backtrack for a chronological approach. The Canadian filmmakers are particularly good at revealing the Toronto-born pianist's ties to his home country, giving new insights into the precocious performer Gould was before he entered the world stage, and the solace he found there during his reclusive later years. Genius Within would make a great double feature with Thirty Two Short Films About Glenn Gould (1993), François Girard's hypnotic portrait built from vignettes with a virtuoso performance from Colm Feore, who captures the pianist's essence without ever putting his fingers to a keyboard.

Gould's distinctive playing style began with lessons from teacher Alberto Guerrero, and is demonstrated by pianist, composer and former classmate Ruth Watson Henderson, who is one of the treasures of Genius Within. Since his 1982 death at only 50, the mythologizing of Glenn Gould has been so rampant that it's a pleasure to see him so humanized here; the filmmakers aren't shy about espousing his particular genius, but they are determined to treat him as an individual. Henderson's recollections of the prodigiously talented student and her straightforward explanations of piano technique and Gould's interpretations are invaluable, revealing how even as a youngster Glenn could find so much inspiration in formal studies, but then stubbornly decide to go his own way.

Genius Within is full of amazing archival footage, from a Manhattan taxi ride during Gould's first Manhattan stay (when he was already wearing his trademark uniform of tweed overcoat, fringed scarf, knit gloves and driving cap) to the tour of Russia that cemented his international reputation and had a profound cultural impact within the cloistered former Soviet Union. The documentary also explores the controversies of Gould's tempestuous career, including the 1962 televised concert with Leonard Bernstein when the conductor prefaced the performance with a comically worded but stinging statement about creative differences. With the idiosyncratic, demanding pianist — who wouldn't perform unless seated on his own well-worn wooden chair — small things became big issues.

But what truly sets Genius Within apart from other biographical explorations are revelations about this very private man's personal life, thanks to frank interviews with Cornelia Foss and her now adult children. In 1968, Cornelia left her husband Lukas Foss, a pianist and conductor in Los Angeles, and moved to Toronto with son Christopher and daughter Eliza to be with Glenn, whom she intended to marry. It was the closest the notoriously hermetic musician would come to having a family, and because there was no public scandal at the time, everyone settled in to try and make things work. Cornelia was a painter who understood the need for quiet introspection and she was also a conduit to the outside world for Glenn, via ties to the arts community and her children (whom he cherished).

Along with these new insights about a vital romantic relationship in Gould's life, Hozer and Raymont interview Glenn's lifelong friend John P.L. Roberts, who expounds on the difficulties of fulfilling that role. Roberts also discusses the increasingly contentious interactions between Glenn and his parents, the elderly couple who focused all their efforts on a wunderkind only child, and found themselves left behind in the wake of his success. Family was a particularly thorny issue, Genius Within reveals, bringing to light Gould's internal conflict of companionship versus autonomy, compromise versus perfection: Glenn would ask his CBC radio sound engineer Lorne Tulk to legally become his brother while shunning his widowed father because he'd decided to remarry.

As much as the filmmakers dive into that inner life, they never lose sight of the work, and make the case for this classical musician as the quintessential twentieth century man. Glenn Gould stopped performing live in 1964, but with a tight circle of musicians and engineers, all of whom were in sync with particular demands, he became a prolific recording artist and continued to reach a broad audience. Hozer and Raymont utilize great footage of Gould transforming a small theater atop Eaton's department store in Toronto into a recording studio, where he became a regular nocturnal visitor. There's also an interview that shows the analog Gould anticipating our digital cut and paste age: foreseeing not our new devices, but how listeners would someday consume music on their own terms.

Genius Within can't be all things to all Goulds: the filmmakers only touch on certain health issues (such as his use of a cornucopia of prescription medication and the hypochondria that led to compulsively monitoring his own blood pressure), and a few of the artistic clashes and controversies that marked his brief but extraordinary life. In an unfussy, straightforward style, Michèle Hozer and Peter Raymont present an engrossing primer on the musician and the man with expertly edited archival footage and well-chosen interview subjects. What they've captured are the rhythms that composed Glenn Gould's worldview: his need to make classical music his own, and the compulsion to share his solitary existence with an audience he would never know.

© 2011, Serena Donadoni. All rights reserved.

Directors: Michèle Hozer and Peter Raymont | Cinematography: Walter Corbett | Music performed by Glenn Gould | Sound: Bruce Cameron | Editing: Michèle Hozer | Producer: Peter Raymont | Released by White Pine Pictures | Running time: 108 minutes | Not rated

Cast: Glenn Gould (archival footage), Vladimir Askenazy (pianist/conductor), Frances Batchen (Gould's girlfriend), Kevin Bazzana (author of Glenn Gould: The Performer in the Work and Wondrous Strange), Petula Clark (singer), Victor Feldbrill (conductor), Cornelia Foss (painter), Christopher and Eliza Foss (Cornelia Foss's children), Don Hunstein (photographer), Mark Kingwell (author of Extraordinary Canadians: Glenn Gould), Jaime Laredo (violinist/conductor), John P.L. Roberts (lifelong friend), Ray Roberts (personal assistant), Roxolana Roslak (soprano), Fred Sherry (cellist), Lorne Tulk (audio engineer), Ruth Watson Henderson (pianist/composer), and James Wright (Gould scholar).