A man walks to the edge of an aged, unsteady pier and puts down a sizable sheet of white cardboard on the muddy ground beneath. He then gets ready with several cans that appear to hold ordinary house paint, mixes them briefly with his brush, and begins tossing the contents directly from the containers onto the “canvas.” With two companions observing him with expressions nearly as puzzled as those of the birds nearby, he produces something referred to as splash and drip art. His creation is then lifted from the ground and divided into squares just as a small seaplane arrives. This comes from the "Galerie des Abstractes"—New York and Paris, naturally—and a well-dressed man steps out. He examines this assortment—but will he make any purchases? It's a rather cheerful commentary, gently mocking the pretentiousness of art and artists while also plainly showing that anyone can participate, and that any beauty found is subjective. It’s not exactly an eco-conscious film, as you might notice toward the end, but it’s clearly intended to be humorous, and though the music repeats a bit, it's still pretty agreeable.

Source on TMDB