Stick with Céleste for a minute. The subject is the final years of Marcel Proust’s life, seen from the vantage of his faithful maid, nurse, and companion. The music is Cesar Franck. And the setting is the few rooms of the Paris house to which the author was confined by illness and eccentricity. This is high-toned stuff, for sure. But director Percy Adlon (Bagdad Café) instills a subtle vitality in his vision of an affectionate and creative friendship between two unlikely souls, aided impressively by Eva Mattes’ superb performance in the title role. The whole thing could have been as deadening as a PBS presentation. In fact, Céleste is a bit static, but it’s also as stately as a shelf of leather-bound books.