User reviews

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.

In early 20th century France, an impressionist painter is visited at his country estate by his grown children. This is a very low-key film where nothing much happens but where one experiences the satisfaction of having spent a Sunday afternoon in the country engaged in conversation with intelligent people. Ducreux is excellent as the patriarch nearing the end of his life who relishes the visit from his dutiful son and free-spirited daughter, but is overcome with feelings of nostalgia and perhaps regret. The cinematography is gorgeous, with images suggesting impressionist paintings. The soundtrack appropriately consists of chamber music, that of Faure.

Not much happens during "A Sunday in the Country", which depicts what the title suggests: a well-to-do French family having a Sunday gathering during what appears to be the 1920s - it is the world of Marcel Proust, only a few decades later. This presents more of a family portrait and character revelation piece than a plotted story. We get to know the main characters and their relationships - the genteel old father dotes on his exciting daughter and is critical of his dour, proper son. He is dependent on the crabby housekeeper who rules the home. It is a mellow, fine-looking film, sprinkled with comments on impending death and art. Sabine Azema steals the show as the charming but flaky Irene.

A lot of people consider it Tavernier's best .

An old man lives in the country in a desirable property.He waits for his children's visit .Whereas his son ,Gonzague,who lives a bourgeois life with wife and kids frequently turns up,his daughter Irene , a socialite ,a woman ahead of her time is often too busy in Paris to remember his old papa.

On a clear sunny day,they all gather in the father's house .Suddenly the house does not look that much cozy.The novel on which the movie is based is called "Mr Ladmiral Va Bientôt Mourir" (M.Ladmiral is soon going to die)and Death shows beneath the placid surface : a terrifying vision of the old man on his death bed -there is a similar scene in John Huston's last work-;a fleeting souvenir of a picnic in the garden where they used to eat (wild?) strawberries;more prosaically,when the family arrives near the church,they can hear "Nearer to thee ,my God" (the Titanic band's canticle!).

The admirable sequence in the Guinguettes displays not only Tavernier's tribute to Auguste Renoir,but also his love for the true masters of the French cinema:Auguste's son Jean ("Une Partie de Campagne") ,Julien Duvivier ("La Belle Equipe") and Jacques Becker ("Casque d'or").

This is a brilliant movie by the man who is perhaps the greatest living French director.His command of the picture is so fascinating that even the frequent voice -overs are not redundant.

Like this?Try these.......

Make way for tomorrow Leo McCarey 1937

Une Partie de Campagne Jean Renoir 1936

Wild Strawberries Ingmar Bergman 1957

Eglantine Jean Claude Brialy 1971

The dead John Huston 1987

I saw this film many years ago and loved it and just rewatched it again, this time, on DVD with Bertrand Tavernier's commentary. I must say that I love it now even more. The two words that permeate throughout his film rhythm and time. It is strange to me that he does not say that impressionism was a major inspiration in the work, in fact he says the contrary. Yet I've noticed many films where the director meant to do something only it was taken very differently by the viewers and I guess this was such a case.

Anyway to get back to the film, in hearing Tavernier's commentary, I now realize how musical the whole film is, it's lazy, Sunday tone, then Irene (Azema) coming in like a tornado, then quiet conversations, then someone getting stuck in a tree, then another quiet conversation, then a dance...a series of stop starts that lulls you in its rhythm, but awakens you again with bursts of life and vitality.

In speaking of time and the passage of it, Tavernier encapsulates the life of Mr. Lamiral in one Sunday afternoon, and all the bittersweet sadness, through his relationship with his children, grandchildren, maid and himself through his actions and voiceovers made by an all knowing narrator.

I feel a sense of pride that Tavernier points out in his commentary the poignant scenes which I was so touched by in the first viewing. The scene where Irene tells herself that her niece would die young, the scene where Irene and her father speak of painting, The narrator supplying profound insights on M. Ladmiral about his indifference to his grandchildren. Gonzague's and his wife's decency, but utter clumsiness, living a life bounded by convention and security.

I also learned so much about camera movement through Tavernier. He describes not only the how, but why certain shots are shot they are and you begin to understand why certain scenes provoke certain emotions not only through dialogue and setting, but also how you hear something and see something. One scene where Gonzague and his wife are having an argument and M. Ladmiral comes into the scene but rather than say a word to interrupt, he concludes to himself that it is pointless and leaves the scene without uttering a word. Such a scene tells so much, the relationship of the couple, the father's relationship with the couple, and the father's relationship with himself, all in the frame of a 5 second shot. I'm grateful to M. Tavernier for having created such a beautiful film and added such brilliant insight on the nature of this work.

Yes, it's nice and it's simple. But nice and simple people aren't very interesting. They keep saying and doing things that make them all seem "simple." I suppose if I were "simple" myself, I'd like it.

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.

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.

I guess I am the odd man out with this film, as most of the reviewers loved the movie--giving it lots of 9s and 10s. I, on the other hand, found the film to be boring...glacially paced and among the least favorite French films I've seen in a long time.

The story is set at the home of a 70-something widower who is an artist. His son (and later his daughter) arrive for a Sunday visit and the film seems as if you are a silent witness...watching them regardless of whether or not they're doing anything of interest. And, occasionally, a narrator talks a bit about what's going on inside some of these folks.

I generally have a high capacity to watch slow films...but rarely have I had one where I kept finding myself nodding off again and again. And, I tried watching it twice...and both times this kept happening. The bottom line is that although a pretty film and well made, the script had little to offer me to keep my interest.

I saw this film as a gift. For images, reminding the work of an Auguste Renoir, for portrait of family and the small gestures defining the relations between its members, for lovely acting and for the good state of soul inspired by it.

I discovered it, in same measure, as a beautiful gift offered by Bertrand Tavernier. A precious gift about meaning of life and meanings of visits, about the games of children and problems of adults, about joy and the shadows of sadness, about a venerable manner and the lady helping him in ordinary problems.

Nostalgia ? Off course, but it represents more and , scene by scene, you feel it.

A beautiful film as a precious circle of emotions.

This movie is a wonderful capsule memory that I can show to my children and grandchildren on how it was before television was a staple of the family room.

We would go every other Sunday to visit some elderly relatives' in my case my oldest Grandmother and her older husband. There would be a garden where we would run free and then a 'gouter' which would serve more delicious puddings and more games outside in the summer.

In winter days, we would be allowed to play inside in the attic. And it was just like Tavernier house: old photographs, older furniture, costumes from long gone great great grandfathers and fans and feathered hair pieces. The Kaiser would be a bogeyman and a never met granduncle would still be a dashing officer before becoming a casualty.

I suspect TAVERNIER enjoyed similar quiet days. And the maid... yes these were the days where maids belonged. They could be the secret heart beat of the house. Grandma's maid was Julie and there was a gardener whose name I have forgotten.

Though totally different, it is the right vibration for Marcel Proust: In search of lost time : in the shadow of budding maids. Atime of innocence, gentleness; when regrets were bittersweet and accepted with grace.

What can I say more: I envy you because you are going to discover it.

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.

A Sunday in the Country is a simple film about a family gathering together at the patriarch's home for the day. His son's entire clan comes on a regular basis, but his single daughter is not around as often. There wasn't much to this movie, to be honest. Seeing the family dynamics play out felt a little bland. It's not that I'm looking for a lot of conflict in a film like this one, but most of their conversations seemed very surface-level and didn't explore anything all that interesting. Even when the daughter comes onto the scene, and clearly brings some alternative ideas and opinions, it never took the movie anywhere I was excited to go.

One thing I did enjoy in A Sunday in the Country was the brief memories that we see brought to life on screen. Rather than always talking about what happened in the past, the film would give us a quick glimpse. I would have liked more of this and less narration to be honest. These visions created a magical feeling of nostalgia tied to the long history of the home and the family in it. All in all, there was nothing unpleasant about A Sunday in the Country, but I didn't find anything that stood out as overly exciting or enjoyable either. It felt authentic and real, which can be tough with intimate films like this one, yet it falls into the sad category of films I didn't mind but will probably forget soon.

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.

Bertrand Tavernier's "A Sunday in the Country" is an interesting experiment but not one I found myself very much drawn into. I have a feeling that as subjective as many films are this is really a film you either love or just don't get. I didn't get it.

Pierre Bost's novel which I read prior to seeing this film does a much better job of drawing you into this family and these characters than the script by Bertrand and Colo Tavernier does. While much in this film is of passing interest to the viewer and some of the lengthy conversations are well-written and realistic, much of the film covers the sort of mundane formalities I find boring at family gatherings. Bost's novel makes very similar content interesting by writing it a little differently.

The overall story of the film is fairly interesting with the lead character Monsieur Ladmiral being an interesting and captivating character. There are some brilliant moments in the film, including the final scene, but they really are outweighed by trivial, mundane happenings.

Does Tavernier succeed purely as a director here? Yes. The film is paced as well as it could possibly be with this script and it is gorgeously photographed and filmed with some of the best use of steadicam I can remember. It's just a shame this script is in general, despite the occasional burst of excellence and admirable handling of the film's themes, a bore.

Far from the director's best- see "Coup de torchon" and "Daddy Nostalgie" for some pretty faultless cinema.

6/10