Director Julian Schnabel’s third film is, put simply, a work of art. A lifelong painter himself, he’s made it his business to celebrate the lives of fallen compagnons d’art on film—precocious grafittist Jean-Michel Basquiat in 1996’s “Basquiat”; Cuban born poet Reinaldo Arenas in 2000’s “Before Night Falls”; and now playboy/fashionista Jean-Dominique Bauby.

At first glance, this would seem an odd shift of focus for Schnabel. For most of his life, Bauby spent his days rocketing around the European countryside in convertibles, eating, smoking and drinking to win. World famous editor of French Elle magazine, he was the picture of success, and always surrounded by stunning women. Like a freewheeling Pepé Le Pew fever dream, his appetites may only have been matched by his devil-may-care attitude. But then, in an unbelievable irony, he suffered a grievous stroke, which left him completely paralyzed. He awoke in the hospital, locked inside a broken and useless body, unable to move or communicate in any way.

Here’s what attracted Schnabel: With only his memory, imagination and a single left eye in his power, in the last year of his life, confined to his hospital bed and connected to breathing machines, Bauby managed to write a memoir. A whole book. Using a Morse code of sorts worked out by one of his nurses, he miraculously blinked out the entire memoir one letter at a time.

Published only days before his death, it became an international bestseller. In a recent interview with NPR, Schnabel said, “Bauby was not a great artist before his accident, but because he was reporting back from this vantage point from this place in between life and death he was able to tell people how to live. It made him a great artist.” With this final act of will and determination, this man was able to completely redefine his entire life, its meaning and his place in the world. Inspirational just doesn’t sum it up.

Schnabel made some brilliant artistic choices as he adapted Bauby’s work. He convinced the studios to allow him to film the screenplay, originally written in English, in Bauby’s native French in order to stay true to the voice of the original. He hired long-time Speilberg cinematographer Janusz Kaminski (“Schindler’s List,” “Munich”) to lens the whole movie from Bauby’s point of view. Very effectively capturing the horror and claustrophobia of his condition, the film begins with the opening of his one good eye. Later, as he slowly reconciles with his state, we are freed, just as he was, by positively lyrical images of his dreams and memories. His body’s entropy appears as a crumbling glacier, his imprisoned soul as a diver caught in cold dark depths of the sea. We see snatches of his life in flashback, when he was young and whole and successful. Eventually, as he learns to write, communicate and even flirt with his impossibly gorgeous nurses, the butterfly is revealed.

Despite getting shafted by the Oscars (it was a particularly formidable year for art films, to be sure) the movie nevertheless has a positively shelf-cracking awards record, including statues from Cannes, BAFTA, Directors Guild of America, Independent Spirit Awards and Golden Globes, to name just a few. Best Film, Best Director, Best Screenplay, Best Cinematography ... This is the real thing. And sadly, with the exception of its single screening for a packed house at September’s Telluride by the Sea at The Music Hall, this fabulous film has received little to no attention elsewhere in our area.

We can count among the various other blessings of Telluride by the Sea, that it offers our little community an opportunity to preview some very good movies well ahead of their national release schedule. More than just a happy perk, one might also consider this a call to action. Just as Jean-Dominique Bauby needed the aid of his nurses (and a world class film director) to get his story out to the world, these movies need champions, too. Many of these titles, coming from arthouse and boutique distributors with restricted resources, will see only limited releases, offering very small windows for the public at large to view. The Music Hall does everything it can to keep the spotlight on these little gems, whether they’re winning the big gold or not, but it’s up to us, we lucky few who were able to have experienced these films early, to tell our friends, family and anyone who’ll listen how great these movies can be. Life is short. Movie runs at The Music Hall are even shorter. Carpe diem, folks.