The late Dutch actor Rutger Hauer is probably still best known for his extraordinary turn as rebel replicant Roy Batty in Ridley Scott’s Blade Runner, but that’s not where the focus lies in this amiable but mostly unsurprising curio from his goddaughter Sanna Fabery de Jonge. Using the actor’s own home movie footage, shot on lovely 16mm, plus new interviews with those close to him, including director Paul Verhoeven, actor Whoopi Goldberg, and his second wife Ineke ten Kate, a portrait emerges of a talented no-bullshit actor who fell slightly short of his potential due to Hollywood not being sure quite what to do with him. To be honest, that’s more or less what most people who are aware of Hauer thought of him already, so it’s not the case that this adds all that much to the narrative.

The home movie archive is previously unseen, and there’s a nostalgic pleasure to seeing beautiful grainy footage of a young Hauer (what the famously private actor would have thought of this archive being made public remains a slightly uninterrogated question). The film is thematically strongest in interviews with frequent collaborator Verhoeven, who is both one of the key factors that ensured Hauer broke through in the first place, and, according to a remorseful Verhoeven, a part of the reason he never became bigger. The sticking point was their 1985 collaboration Flesh and Blood, which Verhoeven admits that Hauer participated in against his better judgment, having decided after a positive experience on Richard Donner’s Ladyhawke that he would rather play heroes than the villains who made his name. Verhoeven insisted Hauer honour their partnership, but appears to regret that decision now.

Whether all this is of much interest to anyone who isn’t already a locked-on fan of the actor is debatable, and if you are a diehard Hauer expert, there’s probably not much here that you hadn’t already guessed or intuited. There’s very little opening out to draw any wider conclusions about the industry or acting in general, and fair enough, but it does mean that the overall sense of the film is that it’s more of a curio aimed at those who simply can’t get enough Hauer, than something that a wider audience could get a lot out of. It’s a shame as something really interesting could have been done with the archive, but what’s emerged is a bit of a DVD extra.

• Like Tears in Rain is on Viaplay from 10 March.