Today, the instruments are almost priceless. Ha ha ha, I haven't thought of that movie in decades, and yet when you said it, it sprang right to mind. Case in point: when desperate social-climber John Watson Christian McKay promises the Royal Opera House's manager that he can deliver Paganini for at least ten performances, Watson and Urbani make a deal through an anxious series of letters.
There is nothing mystical, nor especially mysterious about this mutually parasitic exchange since "The Devil's Violinist" is only partially grounded in a romanticized version of reality.
Most of the film's weakest aspects highlight something interesting, like how Rose clearly encouraged Harris, Garrett, and McKay to over-emphasize the stilted, actorly qualities in their performances for the sake of drawing attention to their characters' nervous habit of, well, acting for each other.
I would not want a single day as a kid again because it was really not nice. This is an old concept; cool to find it in real life, but an old concept. We were told it was not possible, but I bought him flowers, and made sure they were delivered to him. I was pretty close to the dancers.
A specific trouble I had was that Alison worries that her bipolar brother will end up like Nathaniel, and Lopez never corrects her. It was, at that time, the most paid at a public auction for any musical instrument and the buyer remains anonymous. It takes a lot of strength to project in a big hall against the orchestra.
It was made towards the end of his career, when he had access to the finest spruce, maple and willow. I was scrolling through Bernice Rubens' list, and evidently she wrote "Madame Sousatzka", which I remembered as a so-bad-it-is-good movie.
So the author spent way too much time talking about it.