This month marks the 18th anniversary of the death of one of the greatest entertainers (and most certainly the greatest singer) of the 20th century: Frank Sinatra. Since we’re still in the year celebrating the 100th anniversary of Sinatra’s birth, I thought it apropos to take a look at Alex Gibney’s wonderful documentary on ol’ blue eyes, “Sinatra: All or Nothing at All,” since we weren’t able to get a look at it when it first came out. The two-part, four-hour event originally aired on HBO in April of 2015 and then was released to DVD and Blu-ray last November by Eagle Rock Entertainment.

Gibney (who previously has given us such landmark documentaries as 2005’s “Enron: The Smartest Guys in the Room,” 2013’s “We Steal Secrets: The Story of WikiLeaks,” 2015’s “Going Clear: Scientology and the Prison of Belief” and “Steve Jobs: The Man in the Machine”) takes an unusual tack with this film: there are no talking heads. All the narration is by Sinatra himself (from archives) along with commentary from those closest to him, including Sinatra’s children Nancy and Frank Jr. (the documentary was made with the blessing of the Sinatra estate), wives and lovers including Ava Gardner, Lauren Bacall and Mia Farrow, and interviews with Nelson Riddle, Jerry Weintraub, Emil Davidson, Robert Wagner & Jill St John, Quincy Jones, Jerry Lewis and many, many more musicians, friends, and Hollywood executives.

Gibney frames the documentary with footage from Sinatra’s 1971 “Retirement Concert” (at age 56) in Los Angeles, a concert in which the singer choose 11 songs to sum up his life in music … and to tell his story. Likewise, the film’s narrative is shaped by those song choices, which Gibney interprets as the singer’s personal guide through his own life. And what a life. Sinatra was just a skinny kid in his twenties from Hoboken, New Jersey, when he joined Tommy Dorsey’s band and became a superstar in the early 1940s. Ten years later he hit rock bottom — he was fired from MGM, dropped by his record label, and estranged from his second wife, Ava Gardner. But in one of the greatest comebacks in entertainment history, Sinatra turned in an Oscar-winning performance in “From Here to Eternity” in 1953 and remade himself as a singer, moving to Capitol Records and turning out one hit record after another … and eventually establishing a second, gigantic career in movies. Sinatra was always a walking contradiction — he could be tender in his music but had a short fuse when he was angered; he faced off against the red-baiters in Washington during the Commie scares but had strong ties to the Italian Mob. He was a strong supporter of integration in the 60s but thought little of the counter-cultural movement and rock ‘n’ roll. He was friends with the Kennedys (and helped JFK get elected in 1959) yet became a Nixon supporter after the Kennedys snubbed him after the election.

This is top-notch filmmaking. Gibney uses never-before-seen concert footage and home movies, TV and movie clips, photos and press clippings to tell Sinatra’s story. And, then, of course, there’s the music: “Sinatra: All or Nothing at All” features clips from many Sinatra classics including: “My Way,” “I’ve Got You Under My Skin,” “Fly Me To The Moon,” “All Or Nothing At All,” “The Lady Is A Tramp,” “Nancy (With The Laughing Face),” “That’s Life,” “Luck Be A Lady Tonight,” “New York, New York,” “(Love Is) The Tender Trap,” “Love And Marriage,” “Night And Day,” “Stardust,” “Young At Heart,” “Angel Eyes” and many more.

Sinatra not only told his story through his songs, he told our story as well. Sinatra is irrevocably woven into our culture, lives and experiences, on a group and individual level. Everyone of a certain age probably has a Sinatra story, revolving around his music or movies and how they influenced behavior (how many kids from a certain generation strove to become as suave and hip as Sinatra; how many love affairs were conducted with Frank crooning in the background). In my case, Sinatra saved my life. In the early 90s I had a bout with cancer and had to undergo several months of chemotherapy. It was tough going, but at the end of each night of therapy I could come home to listen to the just released “Sinatra: The Capitol Years” — on cassettes, no less — and get through the pain. Frank soothed me, raised my spirits, kept me strong. Frank, wherever you are, thank you.

Frank Sinatra: December 12, 1915 to May 14 1998