Tag Archives: Experimental

CAPSULE: THE PEASANTS (2023)

DIRECTED BY:  DK Welchman, Hugh Welchman

FEATURING: Kamila Urzędowska, Mirosław Baka, Sonia Mietielica, Robert Gulaczyk

PLOT:  The Peasants follows the Boryna family in 19th-century rural Poland, caught in a fierce land dispute tangled with love, betrayal, and tradition. Structured around the seasons, the story explores cycles of labor, desire, and fate, capturing a world where, despite every effort, nothing truly changes.

Still from The Peasants (2023)

COMMENTS: The Peasants blends not just painting and animation, but also live-action footage—and somehow, this mix hits the viewer like a ton of bricks. Dropped in 2023, this historical drama comes from the minds of DK Welchman and Hugh Welchman, the duo behind Loving Vincent. Just like that film, this one is brought to life with stunning hand-painted animation, giving every frame the feel of a moving canvas.

It is one of the most labor-intensive films ever made. First, it was shot digitally using high-flying drones. The aesthetic is exquisite, with visual nods to “Young Poland” painters like Józef Chełmoński, Ferdynand Ruszczyc, and Leon Wyczółkowski: think “Partridges in the Snow” and “Grain Harvesters.”

Then came the animation marathon: 100 artists from Poland, Serbia, Ukraine, and Lithuania, fueled by coffee and the spirit of Jean‑François Millet, hand-drew 56,000 frames over five years—hammering away every day and night, four hours per frame. It was like climbing Everest with paintbrushes instead of ice axes and easels instead of oxygen bottles.

Production paused twice—first for Covid, then for war. Female Ukrainian animators were relocated to Poland. The men stayed in Kyiv, drawing under Russian bombs and frequent blackouts—true martyrs of art. Later, another 78 digital artists added in-between frames. In total, about a million person-hours went into the film.

The story is adapted from Władysław Reymont’s The Peasants, winner of the 1924 Nobel Prize—a four-volume, 1,032-page agrarian epic that rivals Faulkner’s Yoknapatawpha sagas. Set in Lipce, late 19th-century Russian Poland, it centers on a brutal battle over 6 acres of land—roughly half a football field.

Land matters here: in the late 1800s, Polish provinces of the Russian Empire were in a dire situation. Peasants owned just 9.2 acres on the average, the lowest share in the entire empire. Nobles still owned 86% of the land, leaving the peasants scraps. The movie covers everything a country melodrama needs: blood, love, rebellion, funerals, psychological trauma, and sour cabbage.

The film, like the book, is structured around four “seasons”—spring, summer, autumn, winter—but these aren’t just times of year. They’re four faces of the same unending loop in time.

At the heart of it is the glorious Boryna household and a tangled love polygon:

FANTASIA 2025: APOCRYPHA CANDIDATE: TAMALA 2030: A PUNK CAT IN DARK (2025)

366 Weird Movies may earn commissions from purchases made through product links.

Weirdest!

DIRECTED BY:

FEATURING: Voices of Kana Aoi, Daisuke Kasuya, Atsuko Nakata, Sayaka, Kei Taniguchi

PLOT: A missing-persons case steers Tamala and her friend into a world of corporate nefariousness, deep-time conspiracy, and staggering cosmic implications.

WHY IT MIGHT JOIN THE APOCRYPHA: To quote Fantasia programmer Rubert Bottenberg: “The Japanese kawaii paradigm of Hello Kitty and Hatsune Miku collides with cabalistic capitalism, cataclysmic prophecy, and the ruptured realities of , , and in… a deviously dreamlike, metaphysical mind-melt of high-fructose, retro-futuristic, paranoid pop-art brilliance.”

COMMENTS: Having your eyes bombarded at the end of a long day can be rather refreshing: something to wipe away the accumulated impressions, and leave your perception open to embrace the crazy world anew. This effect was indeed welcome, for as Tamala likes to say: “Another f*cking day is about to begin.” This line, delivered in a childlike, brat-girl, cutey pie kind of way, kicks off the (*deep breath*) Tamala 2030: A Punk Cat in the Dark experience. An experience unlike any other I’ve witnessed on the big screen. An experience, if I may, whose existence hinges on the manifold developments of the past century and a half, and on the strange minds of the enigmatic t.o.L team.

For those unfamiliar with the Tamala phenomenon (as I was, until the screening), she was introduced to the world—at Fantasia, I believe—in 2010. Per her bio, she is “[a] young female cat, born in the Orion Constellation on the Odessa star; cute, but uses much foul language. She was genetically engineered in Cat Year 1869 to always remain a year and a half old, in order to be the immortal mascot of the mega-conglomerate CATTY & Co.” Which should give you the gist of things.

Where the gist may slip from your grasp may depend, but having missed the gist before the Tamala movie screening, I was still a happy viewer as Tamala 2030 washed over me like a wave of strange black and white purréed media. Tamala dances, Tamala curses, Tamala munches on pocky, and all the while the movie spools out impossible amounts of ambient details. Seven cities in seven different prefectures have seen simultaneous disappearances of seven different two-year-old cats. (The fact that one of them handsome spurs Tamala to join her boy-friend’s [?] investigation of the matter.) The specifics clatter on-screen at a blistering pace as Tamala, always boing-boinging in her steps, saunters fearlessly through class riots, cabalistic postal machinations, and onward to her empyrean duel amongst the stars.

t.o.L. manage the difficult hat-trick of fusing several graphic styles into a cohesive—albeit capital-“I”-Incredible—world. Tamala 2030 is a symphony of sight, walking a devilishly narrow through-line of technique where any slight variation would have catastrophically cacophonous results. Echoes of late ’90s screen-saver loops, mid-19th-century advertisement figures and fonts, flash™-y forms, and 3D-celestiality are all here, and all coexist. This film is a dizzying march through time and space, an appropriately epic-length adventure with pathos, frog-licking, reincarnation, cow spotted sports cars, intrigue, graffiti—and more than one explosion of Tamala into swarms of mini-Tamalas.

Oh yes, this will cleanse and flush your mind’s palette, and you’ll feel jumbled and pumped and ready to rock—’cause another f*cking day is about to begin.

Tamala‘s theatrical release date is uncertain, but Deaf Crocodile has acquired the physical media rights and plans to release the film in 2026.

WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:

No other reviews were found at time of publication

READER RECOMMENDATION: THE MANIPULATOR (1971)

Reader Recommendation from James Auburn

AKA BJ Presents; B.J. Lang Presents 

Beware

“…a motion picture so haunted… it will never be shown!” – B.J. Lang Presents trailer

DIRECTED BY: Yabo Yablonsky

FEATURING: , ,

PLOT: The film takes place almost entirely on a dusty soundstage. B.J. Lang (Rooney) has kidnapped a woman he refers to as Carlotta (Luana Anders of “Easy Rider”) and has tied her to a wheelchair. Lang spends nearly 90 minutes tormenting Carlotta, screaming at her, forcing her to recite lines to an imaginary movie, and spooning baby food into her mouth, among other indignities. 

Still from the manipulator (1971)

WHY IT MIGHT MAKE THE LIST: This acid-damaged wannabe-arthouse film has stupefied even jaded psychotronic film freaks. Every “hip” avant-garde editing gimmick in the psychedelic-era toolbox is utilized: strobe lights, fish-eye lens, solarization, freeze-frames, quick-cut frames of random images, flashbacks/flash-forwards, slow-motion/fast-motion, etc. The viewing experience feels like a 90-minute long, 104-degree-fever hallucination that makes you question your own sanity. The uncomfortably cathartic performances from its two leads seem like a blend of acting-workshop exercises and heavy existential therapy put on film. Through extended monologues, the central character explores his own inner turmoil and waxes philosophical about life and show business, and as he wallows in his own insanity, the movie itself follows suit.

 

COMMENTS: Yes, one of the most demented movies you’ve ever seen starred Mickey Rooney—and he gives a psychotic tour-de-force performance that must be seen to be disbelieved.

In the opening scene, B.J. Lang enters the soundstage, as if to begin a routine day of work, passing cobwebbed props and backdrops; he sits down, and starts talking excitedly to thin air. Lang establishes himself as either a movie director who has gone insane, or an insane man who fancies himself a movie director; it’s never quite clear which. He runs a take of an imaginary movie scene while barking orders at mannequins and a film crew that exists only in his addled head. This opening segment culminates in a nightmarish two-minute freakout sequence with Lang screaming at two nude white-bodypainted figures (his parents? sure, why not) who cruelly laugh at him, over a screeching electronic racket. Suddenly: silence. Closeup: Lang is drenched in sweat, exhausted, as are our eardrums and sensibilities. What’s your threshold for cinematic insanity? You’ll know in the first ten minutes of The Manipulator.

We then discover Carlotta, tied to the wheelchair. Evidently she’s been there against her will for some time. For a long stretch, her only line is “I’m hungry, Mr. Lang!” She repeats it, again and again, with every different inflection she can muster (Lang spoon-feeds her a few Continue reading READER RECOMMENDATION: THE MANIPULATOR (1971)