Review: HER WILL BE DONE is an Ambitious, Challenging Folk Horror Story

Sometimes films are a bit hard to categorize. They flirt with being one thing or another and yet don’t fully commit in either direction. It can make them difficult to qualify, but still fascinating to digest and consider. Her Will Be Done does just that. Julia Kowalski’s new feature is a film that touches on themes of witchcraft and folk horror, but largely keeps them at arm’s length. The focus of the story lies in its depiction of the culture of small-town narrowmindedness and the desire to fly free from the community you feel confined in. And while it can be frustrating at times, it is a story that is interesting in its themes and its presence.

Nawokja (Marisa Wrobel) is trapped. She has lived in a small town her entire life. She lives with her father and brothers. The brothers have grown up to be complete douchebags, and her father, though loving, refuses to acknowledge Nawokja’s need to leave. So Nawokja spends the days working on her family’s farm, cooking for her thankless mess of a family, and dreaming of how she might one day escape to something better. Her mother died when she was little, supposedly of a demonic curse that Nawoka now believes she has inherited. Though she spends her days trapped in her meaningless existence, at night, she seems to be trapped by something altogether unearthly. She is overcome by visions and by violent urges—urges she prays for the strength to ignore. 

Things continue escalating when Sandra (Roxane Mesquida) moves in next door, serving as a catalyst for everything that Nawoka dreams of and fears. Sandra, with her pink hair punk rock attitude and sensual nature, has a history in the community, and is a pariah from the moment she drives into town. She instantly identifies a kindred spirit in Nawoka.  There is a shared attraction, and the understanding of something more—a freedom that comes from leaving the past behind and venturing out into the world. 

The backbone of the story is Nawoka’s relationships with her family, her farm, her community—really everything around her. She has lived here her entire life and has outgrown a world that is content to never change. The roles everyone plays, their relationships to one another and to outsiders... it’s all baked in. Nawoka is in an immovable box. And then around the edges, we get hints of the “evil” that she believes is hidden inside her. Wrobel does an excellent job in these moments, crafting a performance right out of a possession film and leaving the audience to wonder if there really is a curse at play or if it could all just be in her head. 

Where the film really excels is through its depiction of the world our characters inhabit and the effect it is having on them. We immediately understand why Nawokja wants to break free. Everyone in this village is small-minded and unpleasant. There is absolutely no space here for her. And Kowalski communicates this very well through the constant sense of claustrophobia that permeates the film. Somehow, she manages to make a rural French landscape feel claustrophobic and confining. Everything here is contained and unmoving.

Eventually, the pressure cooker of a setting explodes into violence, proving that there is no peace to be found in this story, just acquiescence. It’s definitely not the most comfortable watch, given the animal death and sexual violence at play within the film. And for everything it does well, frustratingly, the ending doesn’t land as strongly as it should. The film leans toward ambiguity in a way that isn’t fully satisfying.  That being said, it is an interesting feature, and one that I would recommend if you are a fan of films that live in uncertainty and challenge viewers on that level. 

Movie Score: 3/5

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