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.

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.

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.

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 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.