Un dimanche à la campagne

I saw this film sixteen years ago, at a time when I did not see many 'filmhouse' movies yet. It made a strong impression on me, I wasn't used to so many 'open spaces' in films, which spectators have to fill according to their own ideas. Later I understood that once you start filling these 'holes' with pieces of yourself, the film becomes much more personal.

From time to time I think back to this film, like I did just now when I looked it up in the IMDB. Its storytelling, or rather story-hinting, is apparently so strong that even after sixteen years I am looking for some answers to the questions that the film raises.

In short: go see it.

In pre-WWI France Monsieur Ladmiral prepares for the day in his large country house near Paris. It is Sunday, the day his son Gonzague and family frequently visit him. Gonzague arrives by train with his wife and three children - two young sons and a daughter. Monsieur Ladmiral walks to the station to meet them. Well actually he only makes it about half way there when he meets the family walking toward his house. Thus we are introduced to one of the themes - how Ladmiral deals with getting older (in this case by denying that he can't walk as fast as he used to).

On this particular Sunday Ladmiral is also treated to a rare visit by his daughter Irène. She arrives by car and her breezy, outgoing personality dominates. The children take to her, but the reactions of the rest of the family are much more complex. Gonzague has been the dutiful son who has done what was expected of him while Irène is clearly a bit of a free spirit. But equally as clear is that Ladmiral favors his daughter for her determination to live life on her own terms and is disappointed that his son has not been more aggressive.

It is amazing how much we come to understand the dynamics of this family from observing them during this one day. Typical of the hints we get is Gonzague's comment, in response to the excitement over Irène's car, that "I had children and not a car." By the end you feel that you can extrapolate backward in time to the essential history of this family.

Particularly poignant are the musing of the old man himself. He has been a painter of some repute and respect, but feels perhaps that he took too modest a path in his work, that he could have been more experimental and made more significant contributions. Is he wishing that he had been more like Irène than Gonzague, and that is why he fancies his daughter?

The pacing is slow and the filming is lush. You are left with a certain wistfulness. This may evoke memories to visits to your own grandparents.

The focus in on the personalities and the undercurrents of conflicted feelings that exist in all families.

I think this film can be appreciated on several levels. For some viewers, this is just a happy family portrait, reflecting a more peaceful time and recalling one's own memories of family outings and quiet Sunday afternoons. I think this point of view is mistaken, but I can see why people feel this way. The film is externally slow- moving and peaceful, like a sunny river. But like a river, there are strong currents lurking, invisible, under the surface -- currents that cannot be seen, but only observed indirectly from their effects.

There's a lot more going on here than just ninety minutes of bucolic peacefulness. Pay attention to the details, the small looks and gestures, the things said and things left unsaid. You can almost see the fine strands that link the characters, like a spiderweb, where each character's movements are felt by all the others. The role of the narrator, often disparaged in film, is used effectively here, giving the film a somewhat novel-like quality and reminding the viewer of their presence as an observer.

There's more to be said about this film, but I don't feel quite up to it. In any case, the real meaning of the film can't easily be described in words -- which is a good thing, or the film would be unnecessary. So watch the film yourself, if you haven't already, and see what you think.

Bernard Tavernier manages to turn the very simple plot of a son and a daughter visiting their aging painter-father in the countryside into a series of poetic reflections on life and art, youth and old age, the city and the country, potential and (partial) fulfilment. With the help of absolutely wonderful shots in pastel colours (achieved by means of skipping the 'bleaching' phase in the processing of the film) and very unobtrusive commentary Tavernier takes his viewers on a one day tour of the musings of a 70 year old impressionist painter who is looking back on his life and work. Many of the shots will remind an attentive audience of the paintings by Monet, Renoir and others, even if Tavernier argues they were largely inspired by the first colour pictures of the Lumière brothers.

The US release of this magnificent film has English subtitles. Even though one cannot blame the subtitlers for concentrating on essentials they have in my opinion needlessly erred on the side of sparsity.

A film that tells a story of a family gathering in a Sunday without not interesting happening had all motives to be boring.

Slow scenes, children running and playing, the grandpa happy for receiving his well behaved and always present son and waiting for the surprise of the sister coming. Will she come? Yes, and not interesting happens except for scenes from real life.

The grandpa puts his granddaughter on the shoulders and gets tired. He complains with the maid for the shoes that were obviously where they were meant to be.

The daughter is independent and unhappy, but can not admit. The son made everything he was supposed to do, is married with children but is sorrow for not being a painter. Why? Because his father is a painter, contemporary of Van Gogh, Monet, Degas and followed his dreams and is much happier than his children. The year is 1905 and the history is so simple that everybody could relate to a passage or another.