Komunisté a přehrada: Film o vysídlené vsi | Recenze
A young woman’s daily chores – washing clothes in a stream, tending to household duties – belie a story far removed from a bygone era. The Slovak film Potopa, now screening in Czech cinemas, isn’t set in the early 20th century, but in 1980, where a hand-cranked washing machine remains a novelty for many in the village of Ruské.
A Village on the Brink
Fifteen-year-old Mara’s aspirations extend beyond caring for her widowed father, Alexander. She represents a generation unlike many of the local Rusyn farmers, unwilling to commit to a life of endless toil. The film, a debut from director Martin Gonda, quietly portrays a community where worlds collide. While not solely focused on the contrast between modernity and tradition, that tension is undeniably present.
The Shadow of Progress
The central conflict arises from the communist government’s plan to resettle the village to make way for the Starina reservoir. An early, stark image – the explosion of a neighboring church – foreshadows the upheaval facing the surrounding communities, including the exhumation of graves, property buyouts and the allocation of apartments in the nearby town of Snina.
A Slow Burn of Observation
Potopa unfolds deliberately, often resembling a carefully researched ethnographic document. This observational approach draws the viewer into Mara’s story – a girl who resists the expectations placed upon her: assisting her father, working in the local shoe factory, and continuing the backbreaking labor on their failing farm. Mara dreams of attending the military aviation secondary school and becoming a pilot.
Nuance and Resistance
Director Gonda avoids sensationalizing the drama. When government officials arrive to inform the villagers of their fate, the meeting erupts into vocal dissent, with farmers shouting insults – including “Red swine!” and more vulgar expressions. However, these moments aren’t exaggerated. Potopa is a lyrical exploration of the villagers’ deep connection to their land, a connection that is also presented as complex and ambivalent.
A Universal Story
Gonda’s debut is notable for its refusal to offer simplistic contrasts. It’s not a straightforward anti-communist statement, but rather a more universal portrayal of a community facing displacement. This nuance resonates with the current political climate in Slovakia and has the potential to connect with audiences beyond its borders.
Authenticity and Performance
Potopa avoids romanticizing rural life or depicting it as solely bleak. The filmmakers observe without judgment, rejecting easy answers. The film features both non-actors and members of the Prešov Rusyn Theatre of Alexander Duchnovič, and Sára Chripáková delivers a compelling performance as Mara – a stubborn and reserved girl who quietly harbors her ambitions.
Shifting Responsibilities
Mara’s life takes a new turn when her father suffers a stroke, adding to her responsibilities and thrusting her into the complexities of the village’s resettlement. She demonstrates a surprising ability to navigate the situation, understanding when to be assertive and how to deal with those in power.
A Measured Approach
While powerful, the film’s restraint can sometimes lead to a sense of stagnation. The quietness, while intentional, occasionally results in a lack of dynamic interaction, such as a perceived distance between Mara and her best friend.
A World in Transition
Gonda portrays a fractured world on the cusp of change, utilizing the motif of water as a symbol of both life and death, representing both sustenance and the looming threat of the dam. Despite the inevitable destruction, the film maintains a tone of quiet dignity and even hope.
A Promising Debut
Martin Gonda’s first feature suggests a significant new voice in Slovak cinema. Potopa is a meticulously researched, authentically portrayed, and deeply moving portrait of a village and its people. It’s a film that doesn’t shout, but whispers, leaving a lasting impression.
Frequently Asked Questions
What is the central conflict in Potopa?
The central conflict revolves around the communist government’s plan to resettle the village of Ruské to construct the Starina reservoir.
Who plays the main character, Mara?
Sára Chripáková plays Mara, a fifteen-year-old girl who dreams of becoming a pilot despite the expectations placed upon her.
What is the film’s overall tone?
The film is described as a quiet, observational drama that avoids sensationalism and offers a nuanced portrayal of a community facing displacement.
What does it mean to truly be connected to a place, and what is lost when that connection is severed?