Written by: Louis Pelingen
Note: Spoilers Ahead.
DK and Hugh Welchman made a big name for themselves when they released Loving Vincent back in 2017, a technical marvel in animation due to how it achieved the daunting task: turning the meticulous process of oil painting into a feature-length animated piece. Going so far as replicating Vincent Van Gogh’s style and utilizing it to narrate the artist’s essential parts of his life. A unique wonder that seemed impossible to create in the first place, but the couple managed to make that impossible happen.
The thought of making animation this grand is fortunately not a one-off. ‘The Peasants’ continues to ramp the stakes even further. This time, adapting Władysław Reymont’s novel of the same name, narrating the story of Jagna, a young female peasant whose life is intertwined with the circumstances of other families. It’s a peek into what happens in the village of Lipce, separated across four seasons that open up the stories of these residents.
Right from the jump, the film makes use of that visual spectacle in all of its glory. The familiar use of rotoscope alongside curation of a realistic, rural art style allows the village of Lipce to be filled with spirit; every painted detail across its vivid and hasty sequences all make for gorgeous visual eye candy. With the film set in all four seasons, no color or tone is left unused. Everything is maximized to great effect.
The greatest aspect of pulling an encompassing display of animation is how it elevates the culture of this village, as well as the underlying tension that is shown through specific scenes. The Polish folk song and dance become mesmerizing to see until you witness the adultery that occurs behind the scenes. The fight between the villagers and the nobles is destructive, laying the perfect setting for a potential assassination in plain sight. A wedding ritual between a widowed man and a young woman that should be moving, but the somber expression that dawns on that young woman’s face changes the overall picture. Moments such as these are what make the film stirring.
The pairing of such stylistic ambition with evocative sequences uplifts the overall story. A display of how a spunky and spirited young Jagna becomes entangled in the interconnected relationships and dramas that persist within the village. Not to mention, a dose of religious traditionalism that she tries to break out of, but can’t. Throughout the span of all these seasons, we also witness not only Jagna’s struggles, but also the other pivotal characters as well. Constantly changing their own trust and faith towards one another.
It all builds off to this devastatingly grounded, and also succumbing, display of Jagna’s experiences in Lipce. Every time she is close to getting out of patriarchal control, she is being pulled back and continues to be harmed by their hands. Every moment she refuses to sit down in the village’s religious and social norms, she only receives a scolding. It is these constant moments – paired with the drama shown through Antok, Hanka, and Barciej – that might create this dynamic social conflict that’s engaging in its seriousness, but it never leaves space for Jagna to breathe freely. Always treated horribly by a village that used her for her youthful beauty and then disposed of her when she’s suspected of unjust shame.
It is within the final stretch of the film that it involves its rivetingly striking, but immensely tough scenes. Everyone is now rallying towards Jagna’s house, beating her down and stripping her naked. They put her in a cart and threw her into a field of dirt. Everyone leaves, and Jagna is left lying down as the rain comes pouring down on her. For once, the film finally exhales and gives a gratifying ending for Jagna. The rain washes the dirt that the village has thrown at her; her body is now made anew. Perhaps, in this act of cleansing, the peasant can finally walk away to new horizons, never looking back at the village that shunned her away.
