French stage actor Louis Ducreux makes his film debut as a 76-year-old traditionalist painter, Monsieur Ladmiral, in this bittersweet portrait of a brooding artist. A widower, Ladmiral lives on an estate in the countryside near Paris with only his housekeeper, Mercedes (Monique Chaumette), and his paintings to keep him company. The action of the film takes place on a bright autumn Sunday in the early 1900s when Ladmiral's son, Gonzague (Michel Aumont), and Gonzague's wife, Marie-Therese (Genevieve Mnich), come out from Paris with their three children to visit the old man. While making small talk with Gonzague, Ladmiral hints ever so subtly that his son has become too bourgeois, too conformist, too accepting of the status quo. Apparently, Ladmiral doesn't want his son to face what he is facing: self-recrimination for failing to take risks, failing to go beyond the bounds of tradition.
In France, before WWI. As every Sunday, an old painter living in the country is visited by his son Gonzague, coming with his wife and his three children. Then his daugther Irene arrives.

As the Day-Glo tide of psychedelic that swept over the U.K. in the late '60s began to recede, something far less ornate and flashy took root in its place. Spurred on by the artistic and commercial success of Traffic's folk- and jazz-influenced debut album – which was recorded out in the countryside – the Byrds headlong plunge into country-rock on Sweetheart of the Rodeo, and the Band's brilliant slice of backwoods Americana, Music from Big Pink, all sorts of groups and artists sprouted up to play loose and wooly blends of organically grown folk, country, jazz, and rock. Some of the bands were beat group leftovers looking to evolve past paisley (the Searchers, the Tremeloes), some were city boys gone to seed (Mott the Hoople, the Pretty Things), and some were just weirdos like Greasy Bear, or lazy-Sunday balladeers like Curtiss Maldoon, all doing their own freaky thing.