I like this film, but I don't feel very qualified to comment on it. Instead, I'm going to post a translation of a quote from A. Prohorov's book "Режиссёры и художники советского мультипликационного кино" (Directors and Artists of Soviet Animated Cinema. Moscow, 1984) that is on the Russian Wikipedia article (I would love to get a copy of the book itself, but I can't find it anywhere, at least not online):

It was during this period that Kurchevsky turned "back": from the decorative quality of the puppet to its painterly quality, from an open but monotonous metaphor to the multifaceted and full-blooded nature of the material world. "The Handyman of Clamecy" (1972) is a work in which the entire film crew united in a careful love for R. Rolland's masterpiece and for Col Breugnon himself. The free-flowing, calm epic of Col's story contrasts with the metaphorical painterly quality. The contrast between the leisurely pace of the tale being told and the unusually active pressure of the world, depicted and pictorial, is one of the film's fundamental successes. [...] In "The Handyman of Clamecy," the director, addressing the problem of the painterly quality of the object and the mask, approached the aesthetics of a "living still life". The artistic paradox of bringing "dead nature" (which is how the word "still life" is translated from French) to life and spirituality lies in the fact that, while creating a spatial still life on a film set from streets, houses, interiors, and even human figures in their initially picturesque stillness, it is not so much animated mechanically, that is, by moving the puppets, but rather animated through internal, purely pictorial means of expression. V. Kurchevsky and art director T. Tezhik truly brilliantly resolved this contradiction. [...] Choosing Breugnon's appearance presented a very great challenge. The director and art director found an unexpected, perhaps even too unexpected, solution: Cézanne's self-portrait served as the portrait prototype for Col Breugnon. (Incidentally, when the film was shown in France, where it enjoyed great success with both the public and professionals, many filmmakers told the director that his Colas Breugnon vaguely reminded them of someone they knew very well, and, upon receiving the answer, gasped in surprise.) [...] The film "The Master of Clamecy" is not simply a successful adaptation of a literary masterpiece (which in itself is no small feat). Kurchevsky and Tezhik's work reveals new possibilities for three-dimensional animation in conveying philosophical reflections on life, in depicting tragedy concisely, in many ways that today still seem inaccessible to "puppet cinema". The lessons of "The Master of Clamecy," it seems to me, have not yet been fully absorbed by the all-powerful animation of the 1980s.