Seymour: An Introduction

The great joy of the film, whether you know piano or not, is watching Bernstein teach.

Hawke's cinematic etude may not unlock all the mysteries of music, but "Seymour: An Introduction" is universal enough to be understood by a bananafish.

Like a touching master class on living correctly, listening to the charming Bernstein will have you changing keys.

Coming off of his superb one-two performances for Richard Linklater in Before Midnight and Boyhood, Hawke continues to work at a creative high level. He demonstrates a rapport and openness with his subject that proves exceptionally affecting.

Whether or not Hawke got any answers to his questions about the purpose of being artist, seeking them under the guidance of a teacher like Bernstein resulted in this work of art.

Seymour: An Introduction is just that - not too much biography, or history. And one needn't be a music aficionado, or a musician, to appreciate the modest erudition coming from this man.

Seymour is intriguing, mainly because it brings together two uniquely talented artists -- Hawke and Bernstein -- and captures them in thought and ocasionally in conversation, sometimes together but more often on their own.

Not only a very fine documentary, but a warm and likable one to boot.

There's no pressing story to tell, or even especially vital achievement to record, so the film probably counts as bit of self-indulgence from Hawke, but it's got a very good heart.

More crucial to [the film] than Bernstein's personality, endearing as it is, is the music he plays.

It's quiet, considered and spellbinding, with a great deal of beautiful music - some of it performed exquisitely by Bernstein himself.

Bernstein seems like a man who has found fulfillment in his life, and his students seem fulfilled as well. His story is compelling and his words seem to be loaded with wisdom. He is a fascinating character.