Viy (1967)

Not to sound pretentious but I do like to consider myself something of a connoisseur of foreign cinema, especially when it comes to the horror genre. I know of and have seen a good number of both British and Japanese films, and I've also seen more than my fair share of Italian, Spanish, Mexican, Swedish, and German films. I've even seen a movie from North Korea, for crying out loud (and all you fellow kaiju fans can probably guess what it was)! But, when it comes to Russian cinema, I'm completely ignorant. In fact, up until Viy, I'm pretty sure the only Russian film I'd ever seen was the original 1972 version of Solaris, which I was not a fan of. Speaking of Viy, I first learned of it in 101 Horror Movies You Must See Before You Die, but because there were so many other movies in that book I was much more keen on learning about and seeing, I didn't get much out of its entry, initially. All I knew really was that it was Russian and had a title I didn't know how to pronounce, despite it being only three letters (it's pronounced "vee" or "vii"). The plot never stuck with me, nor did its literary origins, and it wasn't until I decided on this year's theme that I felt it was a movie worth looking up. Fortunately, I found it had been uploaded on YouTube, and in really good quality, no less. Before going into it, I had re-read its entry in that book and, while I wasn't really expecting to have "sleepless nights," as the author said, I also wasn't quite sure what I was getting myself into. When the movie first began, I thought it was going to be a little too silly and weird to relate to, but as it went on and I got into the meat of the story, it became more and more engrossing, culminating in a climax that was effectively nightmarish. Also, throughout it all, I thought the cinematography, effects work, and art direction were quite well done and sophisticated, and the story kept itself moving at a good clip, aided by the film's short running time of just 73 minutes. I liked it enough to where I bought Severin's 2019 Blu-Ray, and after re-watching it a couple of more times, I still think it's a very effective, dark fable.

18th century Russia. A class of rowdy students from the Kiev seminary are sent home for a vacation, but three of them, Khoma, Khalyava, and Gorobets, become lost in the countryside that night. Spotting a farmhouse, they ask for shelter from the old woman they meet at the gate and she lets them in, but asks that they sleep in different spots on the property. Khoma is forced to sleep in the barn, and once he's alone, the old woman comes on to him. He refuses her advances, but she manages to climb on his back and ride him like a horse across the countryside. Next thing he knows, they're flying through the air, making him realize she's a witch. Using the power of his faith, he forces her to land, then beats her with a stick, when she turns into a lovely young woman. Horrified, Khoma flees the scene and makes his way back to the seminary, but just as he's getting his wits about him, he's called by the Rector. He's told that the daughter of a wealthy and powerful Sotnik, who lives on a farmstead near Kiev, has been fatally injured and specifically asked that he come and say prayers for her eternal salvation. Khoma initially refuses but he has no say in the matter, as the Rector threatens to beat him in front of the entire seminary should he refuse. With that, he's sent with the Sotnik's servants and, after they stop at an inn and get quite drunk on vodka, they arrive late in the night to learn that the girl, Pannochka, has succumbed to her injuries. The next day, Khoma meets with the Sotnik and, upon seeing Pannochka, realizes she was the witch, though he doesn't tell her father this. He also denies having ever met her, despite her asking for him by name. Regardless of his suspicions, the Sotnik asks Khoma to fulfill Pannochka's last request: stand vigil over her body for three nights, praying for her soul. He promises a handsome reward if he does it, and like the Rector, threatens severe punishment if he refuses. After the funeral rites, Pannochka's body is moved into the chapel and Khoma is locked in with her. As he recites the prayers, she rises from the coffin and attempts to attack him, but he's able to save himself by drawing and standing in a holy circle on the floor. The demonic attacks grow more severe over the following nights, and the third and final one will prove to be the ultimate test of Khoma's faith and bravery.

Based on an 1835 novella by Ukrainian-born author Nikolai Gogol (which was also the basis for Mario Bava's Black Sunday, and has been retold in various incarnations since, including by Lamberto Bava in 1989)), Viy was the work of two filmmakers: Konstantin Yershov and Georgi Kropachyov, who also co-wrote it with Aleksandr Ptushko, another instrumental figure in the film's success. While neither of them made anything else as noteworthy as Viy, between the two of them, Yershov was more of an actual director and has seven more such credits on his IMDB page, many of which he also wrote. Unfortunately, he died prematurely in 1984, at the age of 49. Kropachyov, on the other hand, mainly worked as a production designer, with Viy being his only writing credit, while his only other work

as director was a 1979 film called Sled rosomakhi. And unlike the short-lived Yershov, whom he never seemed to work with again, he had a long and successful career in production design, working in film and television all the way up to 2013, his last credit being the film, Hard to Be a God. Kropachyov died in 2016 at the age of 85.

If there was ever a character who personified the adage of being at the wrong place at the wrong time, it's Viy's unlucky protagonist, Khoma Brutus (Leonid Kuravlyov). Specializing in philosophy, Khoma is just like his fellow students at the Kiev seminary: a carefree young man who's looking forward to the pleasures the upcoming vacation will allow him to indulge in. But, while on his way home with two other seminarians, they become lost and are forced to take shelter at a farmhouse. Unfortunately for Khoma, the old woman who lives there appears to have a thing for him, as she separates him from the others and attempts to seduce him in the barn. As if things couldn't get any worse, he learns she's a witch, as she enchants him long enough to climb up onto his shoulders, then ride him like a horse before making them both fly up into the air. He demands, in the name of God, that she land and release him, and when she does, he brutally beats her with a stick. That's when he's shocked to see her become a beautiful young woman right before his eyes. Horrified when she says she's dying, Khoma runs for it and finds his way back to his seminary. But no sooner does he arrive and attempt to collect himself, than the Rector tells him of the Sotnik and his dying daughter, who specifically asked for him to pray for her soul. He tries to get out of it, first by saying he doesn't know how to read the prayers and then by outright refusing, but the Rector threatens to have him beaten in front of the entire seminary if he doesn't do as he's told. Thus, Khoma's already bizarre and mixed up experience gets even worse, as he's forced to join the Sotnik's servants as they return to his farmstead. He attempts to make banal small-talk with them, mostly by complimenting them on their wagon, and also tries to escape, both on the way and when they stop at an inn, where he gets drunk with them, but to no avail.

By the time they arrive at the farmstead, Khoma not only realizes he's back where he encountered the witch but that the Sotnik's daughter, who has died by that point, was the witch. Upon meeting the Sotnik formally, he denies that he ever met his daughter, Pannochka, despite her asking for him by name. He insists they didn't meet through the usual "dealings" between men and women, and he also denies that she could've heard of him through any well-known holiness and good deeds on his part,

coming back around 180 degrees and saying he spent "Passions Thursday" with a baker's daughter. He also tries to get out of having to stand vigil over her body in the church for three nights, reading prayers, insisting that a deacon or sexton would be better suited for the task, but the Sotnik, like the Rector, insists it must be him, and implies a painful punishment for refusing. Once again, Khoma has no choice but to go through with it and, after performing the funeral rites, acts as one of the

pallbearers who carry Pannochka's body to the church. Already unnerved, when he's given supper before heading into the church, Khoma learns from the servants, who all strongly believe Pannochka was a witch, that a huntsman who once fell in love with her, likely through her spells, asked her to ride him, like she did to Khoma himself. When it comes time for him to fulfill his task, he's locked inside the church with Pannochka. He tries to act confident, insisting that a Cossack like him wouldn't be afraid and that his prayers will keep

away any evil spirits. It isn't long before he learns he has much reason to be afraid, as Pannochka rises from her casket. Panicking, he draws a holy circle around himself, which she is unable to enter, and prays relentlessly until morning comes and she returns to her casket. Following this, Khoma prepares himself for the second night by getting drunk. Indeed, it proves to be all the more trying for him than the first, this time with the whole coffin flying around the room and Pannochka calling for him, but, again, she's unable to get through the barrier put up by his holy circle. When she's forced to return to her casket when sunup comes, she attempts to curse him but manages to do little more than turn his hair gray.

Near the end of his rope and having no intention of going through that ordeal a third time, Khoma, after showing the servants what's happened to his hair, decides to see the Sotnik again. He tells him of the evil forces at work in the chapel and that his daughter, at some point, fell in league with the devil and is beyond salvation, as well as flat out says he won't continue the vigil, no matter the reward. The Sotnik, in turn, tells him that the Rector's punishment is nothing compared to what

he could do to him, and also says that he'll receive a thousand gold pieces if he completes the task. Regardless, Khoma tries to make a run for it, but takes a wrong turn and is captured by the servants and brought back to the farmstead. When night falls, he, again, gets drunk before entering the church and draws another holy circle. This time, he faces numerous ghouls and demonic figures summoned by Pannochka, culminating in her calling forth the all-powerful demon known as Viy, who proves to be the ultimate test of Khoma's faith... a test he ends up failing.

When you first meet the witch, she takes the form of a typical old crone (Nikolay Kutuzov) and is reluctant to give the three seminarians shelter. But when they plead with her, offering to aid her in any task she desires, she relents, on the condition that the three of them sleep in different places on the property. She has Khoma sleep in the barn, but no sooner does he go in and attempt to get comfortable while lying on some straw than she shows up and, much to his horror, attempts to

seduce him. As she chases him around, preventing him from leaving the barn, she first proves that she's otherworldly when she suddenly appears behind him while he's looking down at her. Then, she uses her magic to make his body rigid enough for her to bend forward as if he were a plank of wood and she climbs up onto his shoulders and rides him out of the barn (an action common among witches in Russian and Ukrainian folklore), grabbing a broomstick from the roof. She manages

to fly up into the air while riding him, tipping him off once and for all that she's a witch. He demands in the name of God that she land and let him go, which she does, and he proceeds to beat her badly with a stick. In the midst of this assault, the witch takes the form of a lovely young woman eventually revealed to be Pannochka (Natalya Varley), the daughter of the wealthy and powerful Sotnik who owns the farmstead. Before she dies, she specifically asks for Khoma to be sent for so he may recite prayers over her body for three nights,

ostensibly to save her soul but really so she can have a chance at revenge. Moreover, it's revealed that many of the Sotnik's servants are aware of her having been a witch, telling Khoma that she's done to other men what she attempted to do to him. During the three nights of his vigil in the chapel, Pannochka rises from her casket and tries to get at Khoma, but is apparently unable to see him (a note from the original novella about how beings from the beyond have a hard time seeing the living) and is also unable to get past his holy circle. She's frustrated with her inability to kill Khoma before sunrise and, when she fails again the second night, she tries to curse him with blindness and white hair, though she only manages to turn his hair gray. Finally, on the third night, she summons numerous ghouls and demons before calling forth Viy, which spells Khoma's doom. Though she's turned back into an old crone when the rooster crows, she returns to her casket, satisfied with her revenge.

Two characters who act as sort of stern father-like, authority figures towards Khoma are the Kiev seminary's Rector (Pyotr Veskylarov) and Pannochka's own father, the Sotnik (Aleksey Glazyrin). Though the Rector comes off as benign in the opening when he gently chastises the seminarians for their antics during past vacations, describing their acts in a playful "for shame" kind of tone, he proves to be deadly serious when he tells Khoma of the Sotnik's need for him to read

prayers for the sake of his dying daughter. He doesn't want to hear Khoma's excuses when he says he can't do it and flat-out tells him that he has no choice in the matter, unless he wants to be beaten in front of his fellow students. All the while, he's being very nice and respectable towards the Sotnik's servants, who'd just delivered some goods to the seminary. And when Khoma dawdles, the Rector all but shoves him out the door, telling him to remember his threat. Khoma gets a similar reception from the Sotnik, who's completely grief-stricken over his daughter's death and wonders who could've beaten her so fatally. Though unaware that Khoma is the very man he refers to, he's suspicious of him from the get-go, wondering just how Pannochka knew him well enough to ask for him by name, and questions him about his past and way of living. Despite this and Khoma's insistence that there are more qualified men who could perform the task, the Sotnik is intent on fulfilling Pannochka's final wish. He promises Khoma a great reward if he pulls it off, and a severe punishment if he doesn't. When, on the third day, Khoma refuses to continue, the Sotnik is more specific about what he could do to him, threatening him with a thousand lashes from leather stripes. Even Khoma's insistence that Pannochka was in league with the devil and is beyond salvation doesn't deter him, as he stills insists he do what he was summoned there for. At the end of the movie, the Rector arrives and enters the chapel, only to rush out and tell the others what's happened when he sees the aftermath of the night's events.

Initially, it seems like Khoma's fellow seminarians, Khalyava (Vadim Zakharchenko) and Gorobets (Vladimir Salnikov), are going to be significant characters in the story, with the three of them almost coming off as a hapless, even comedic, trio, as they bumble around in the dark, trying to find a path to a village. Eventually, they come upon the farmstead, only for the old woman to separate them, allowing Gorobets to sleep in the house and Khalyava the loft, while Khoma has to settle for a hay-pile in the barn. After the old woman proves to be a witch and rides off on Khoma, Khalyava and Gorobets disappear from the film completely until the very end. Back at the seminary, and while painting some walls, the two of them discuss Khoma's fate as they drink to his memory. While Gorobets believes that Khoma's downfall was his fear, Khalyava is skeptical about the whole thing, even suggesting that Khoma may not be dead at all.

While Daniel Thompson, in his entry on Viy in 101 Horror Movies You Must See Before You Die, described it as, "Potent enough to induce sleepless nights in younger viewers," I find it to be rather funny for much of the first two acts. While you do feel bad for the awful luck Khoma has, with his often being threatened with violence should he refuse an unenviable task, and there's nothing at all funny about the ordeal he goes through during the movie's latter half, there's still a lot of humor. It opens with the rowdy seminarians eager to begin

their vacation, with some shoving a Bible in a goat's face, while the Rector admonishes them for past pranks that include stealing chickens while made up to look like demons and getting a deacon drunk and having him sing dirty songs, which they can't help but laugh at. They're so eager to get going that, when the Rector has them sing a hymn before they leave, they're already up to mischief, with one smacking another in the back of the head and another milking the goat from before. Once they're allowed to go, they run wild through the

village, taking food and making off with women, all while cheery music plays, and when they depart into the countryside, you can see that one of them has the live goose he snatched in his bag, as it sticks its head out. As I said, Khoma, Khalyava, and Gorobets come off as something of a comedy team when they get lost, with them splitting up to try to find shelter and Khoma, at one point, mistaking an old stump for Gorobets due to the darkness. Khoma lets loose with some ululating to

try to get someone's attention, while Khalyava's attempt comes off as weak and strained. Gorobets goes as far as to suggest singing so they'll be heard and Khalyava is ready for them to make camp, something Khoma feels wouldn't be as good as finding a house and having a nightcap. Once they find their way to the farmstead, there's comedy in how Khoma is forced to sleep on the floor of the barn, in some hay right next to a pen containing a snorting pig. The witch's attempt to seduce him is also more funny than threatening, especially with his nervous remarks about why he can't reciprocate, and the same goes for her making his body as stiff as a board for her to climb onto his shoulder and the sight of her riding him and then flying through the air with him.

Khoma's trip back to the Sotnik's farmstead with his servants also has humor about it, given how the servants are bemused by his small-talk and slyly keep an eye on him while they appear to be sleeping, with one stopping him when he tries to hop out of the carriage, saying they're not there yet. But the real fun begins when they stop at an inn on the way and get completely drunk. They sing songs, one of the servants demands to know what goes on at the seminary, specifically what's in the books the sextons ready, and contemplates

enrolling, and Khoma attempts to escape by stumbling out the front door, only for another of the servants to come in. He eventually gets so drunk that he sees a triple vision of the same servant coming through the front door and telling him to leave, that they won't tell their employer. After seeing this, Khoma asks the servants to let him go, then stumbles forward as if he's going to fall. Despite the tough spot he's in, there's also humor to be had in how he deals with the Sotnik, coming up with excuses and lies about how he

didn't know Pannochka, and contradicting himself about his own personal lifestyle and how that could relate to it. His reactions to the Sotnik's threats and his ever watchful, menacing eye during the funeral rites are also funny, as are his feeble attempts to calm himself during the first night of the vigil. He walks around Pannochka's casket in a leery manner, telling himself she won't rise out of fear of the word of God, that he's safe from evil forces because of his prayers, and that, being a Cossack,

he must be brave. After lighting numerous candles (at one point, he burns his finger, prompting him to curse and then ask God for forgiveness), he starts praying, only to stop and comment that he wishes he were allowed to smoke. He recites a bit more, then decides to sniff some tobacco, only to sneeze twice, which is what seems to rouse Pannochka. After the terror-filled night he has trying to avoid her, he seemingly decides to hell with it and takes out his pipe and smokes, only to then remember

he's still in the church. While the humor begins fazing out after this, there's still some comedy to be had in Khoma repeatedly getting himself drunk in order to prepare for the nights to come, as well as his demanding music and then dancing wildly while barefoot and wearing a hat following the second night.

The gradual lessening of the humor is indicative of how the movie's overall nature changes over time. Initially starting out as normal and even light-hearted, it very quickly becomes fantastical when the seminarians reach the farmstead and the witch decides to make Khoma her slave and ride him through the night sky. As I said, rather than unsettling, it, as Daniel Thompson noted in his article, is something you might see in the series of Russian movies based on fairy tales that were prevalent during that time. But, slowly but surely,

the onion is peeled back to reveal more sinister layers hiding beneath the surface, as in when Khoma beats on the witch (one of the very few instances of onscreen violence), only for her to turn into a lovely young woman, and when he's forced to travel to the Sotnik's farm and recite prayers for Pannochka's soul, twice being threatened with violence should he refuse. The scene at the inn where Khoma gets drunk with the servants, as funny as it is, is also something of a prelude to how

all semblance of reality is going to be ripped away once he begins his vigil. And as said vigil goes on, it becomes less and less funny, as you see Khoma being worn down by the horror he's experiencing, drinking to try to steel himself against the latter two nights, and desperate to get away after the second night, despite the Sotnik's threat, only to be thwarted. Finally, on the third night, all hell breaks loose when Pannochka summons numerous otherworldly monsters and, ultimately, Viy.

What really impresses me about Viy is how well-made it is, with a sophistication that rivals smaller Hollywood studio productions of the time. It's very well shot by two cinematographers, Viktor Pischchalnikov and Fyodor Provorov, who bring a certain late 60's gloss and a number of big, sweeping landscapes shots to it that prove this was hardly a small, low-rent movie. Granted, there's a lot of day-for-night photography, with some instances being more convincing than others, but this is a case where I can excuse it, as it adds to the

film's increasing surreal nature, as do the numerous obvious backdrops and matte paintings. Blue is very common in the color palette, be it the dark night skies and the blue tinting used for some of the exterior nighttime scenes, or for when the supernatural takes over inside the chapel, with a mixture of unearthly blues and greens. And the play of light and shadow is also best in those scenes, especially with how gloomy it is before Khoma lights the numerous candles in an attempt to calm himself. But the cinematography's

sophistication goes far beyond how the movie looks, as the filmmakers also employ many instances of really good camerawork, chief among them being the camera whirling around and around in the scenes where Khoma is desperately trying to escape the undead Pannochka and banish her with his prayers, as well as at the end, when he's completely surrounded by demons and ghouls. There are also some instances of quick zoom-ins

on his frightened face and flying POV shots from Pannochka in one scene. And the film's editing is nicely done and executed, not just in these big effects sequences but also in little moments, such as how, when the witch is showing him to the barn, the film cuts back and forth between Khoma chewing on a little morsel of food and close-ups of the cows chewing their cud, showing how similar they look.

A fair amount of Viy was shot on location, mostly in the Ukraine, such as at the Elets Monastery in Chernihiv, which served as both the interiors and exteriors of the Kiev seminary, Saint George's Church in Sedniv, which was the exterior of the church where much of the film's second act is set, and Assumption Church in Borochany for the site of Pannochka's funeral procession. And, again, there are many lovely wide, sweeping vistas of the fields and marshes that dot the Ukrainian countryside. But much of the movie was shot at

Mosfilm Studios in Moscow, and you can tell that many an exterior scene is actually taking place either on the backlot or in a studio, with a fake background meant to be the horizon and surrounding landscape. It's the interior sets where the talents of Aleksandr Ptushko, the man who co-wrote the film with the two directors, come to the fore. An effects man, specializing in stop-motion, as well as a director in his own right, having done some large-scale, mythological epics in the late 40's and 50's, Ptushko is the one who's often

credited for Viy's successes, as he also worked on it as both art director and special effects supervisor. Working with production designer Nikolay Markin, he came up with some truly memorable sets for the film's second half, such as the Sotnik's main room on his farmstead, a small but elegant chamber with red carpeting, guns and rifles hanging on the wall, and a large, red deathbed for Pannochka, surrounded by several large candelabras. But the most noteworthy set is the interior of the church

where Khoma holds his ill-fated vigil, which is a large, wooden building that manages to be both spacious on the inside, with its wide main chamber and cathedral that stretches up very high, and yet, cast a feeling of claustrophobia. And for atmosphere, it has the prerequisite cobwebs, numerous candles that give off a distinctly Gothic feel after Khoma has lit them all, cats and birds scurrying around, and many religious paintings, including a large one of Christ's face on the ceiling, that give off a feeling of menace and malice rather than any sort of divine comfort.

It's especially impressive to see how well-done the visual effects and makeup for the demons are. As obvious as the instances of backdrops, matte paintings, blue screen work, and rear projection are, they're still wonderfully executed and well-designed, especially the shots of Khoma and the witch flying high above the land early on, which also seemed to employ a rotating version of the set of the landscape, and that shot of the drunken Khoma seeing a triple projection of one of the servants coming through a door in the tavern,

which itself is well done in terms of the split-screen. But it's during the three-night vigil where the effects really start to take hold. On the first night, you just see a shot of a dripping tear on Pannochka's face turning into a drop of blood (a well-done, subtle effect in and of itself) before disappearing in a simple cut, a physical effect of her floating through the air to and from her coffin, and some pale, dead makeup for her face, but on the second night, following a moment where a bird literally flies out of Khoma's Bible when he opens

it, things really start to ratchet up. The coffin lifts up into the air and starts flying around inside the chapel, created both through physical effects done on set and filming Natalya Varley sitting and then standing up in the coffin in front of either blue screen or rear projection of whirling footage of the set. After that, her attempt to curse Khoma and turn his hair white is done through a simple but effective visual effect. And finally, on the third night, Aleksandr Ptushko lets it all hang out, as he 

comes up with some really creepy ghouls and demons. These include huge hands coming through the walls and floor; walking skeletons; a skeletal, hydra-like creature; a creature with a head akin to a pufferfish but with long, cat-like whiskers and ears, as well as a pair of small horns; a pale ghoul with two noses stacked on top of each other and big ears down around the bottoms of his cheeks; and two other such creatures, such as one with no mouth, eyes on the far end of his head, and small ears

pointing off in either direction, and another with three noses and four eyes. More and more appear, such as a group of pale, skeleton-faced demons who crawl out of a cross-shaped opening in the wall and scuttle down it in an unnatural manner, a smaller creature and a taller one who emerge from a corner, and more who emerge from the walls and burst down doors (in some translations, Pannochka refers to some of these ghouls as vampires and werewolves but they look like none I've ever seen).

And then finally, we get the title monster, Viy, when Pannochka summons him, but while the other demons tremble in fear upon hearing his name, when you finally see him... he's kind of underwhelming. Played by a circus artist named Nikolai Stepanov, Viy is a big, burly demon who looks as though he's made of a mixture of rock and clay, with short, stubby arms attached to the shoulders of a stocky torso that kind of looks like an upside down triangle, and neck-less head sporting a big nose, small mouth, and eyes with

lids that are so big and heavy that he needs the other demons to open them with their hands. His actual eyes, which are, admittedly, very creepy-looking in close-up, akin to the multi-celled ones of an insect, are able to see Khoma when he looks at him, and he speaks to the other demons in a booming, unearthly baritone. Though Viy's look is rather ridiculous and hard to take seriously, no matter how much they try to make him out to be big bad news (from what I've heard, it's close to how he's described in the original story), the sheer nightmare fuel that is this climax more than makes up for it.

While the film is good overall, Khoma's increasingly frightening three-night vigil during the second and third acts is the true highlight. On the first night, Khoma puts on the facade of bravery as he's led into the church and the servants lock the door behind him on their master's orders. He slowly approaches Pannochka's open casket, when several cats run by his feet, briefly startling him. He then tries to reassure himself that he has the word of God to help him should Pannochka actually rise from her coffin or should evil spirits

come for him, when he sees a tear suddenly appear and run down her face, turning into a drop of blood as it does before disappearing altogether. Again taken aback by this, Khoma backs away but tries to write it off as an effect of the alcohol he drank at dinner. He lets out a yell when he backs into what turns out to be a box of candles and gets the idea to use them to brighten up the gloomy church. He lights several with one that's already lit, only for a sudden gust of wind to blow them all out. Making the sign of the cross over them, he lights them

again and does the same for the rest of the church, placing lit candles everywhere he can. He continues trying to convince himself that there's nothing to fear, when more cats run up a small flight of stairs in back of the church. After lighting the place up as much as he can without burning it down, he begins his prayers at a stand near the coffin, only to briefly stop to smell some tobacco. He sneezes twice, and Pannochka's eyes snap open. She rises and climbs out of her coffin, floating down to the floor in a ghostly manner, which

horrifies Khoma, who panics and exclaims that she really is a witch. As she fumbles around, hearing him but unable to see him, he draws a holy circle around him on the floor with some chalk and then frantically recites prayers, attempting to banish her. She staggers around, touching one of the lit candles directly behind Khoma, then comes to the edge of the holy circle and feels an invisible barrier it's erected. Realizing her intended victim is behind it, she tries and tries to get through, whirling around

Khoma, who relentlessly shouts his prayers and walks around his stand to keep Pannochka in his sights. She becomes frustrated at her inability to get at him, and after he yells, "Get thee gone!", the rooster crows outside. Hearing it, Pannochka's body shakes and convulses, and she floats back to her coffin. As she does, she shakes her finger, as if saying, "I'll get you." She then lies back down in the coffin and the lid rises up and closes on its own. Within a cut, all of the candles are now completely out, while Khoma tries to calm his nerves with a pipe, before remembering he shouldn't smoke in a church.

After being allowed out for the day and telling the curious servants that nothing of note happened, Khoma gets himself quite drunk in preparation for the second night. Returning to the church, he staggers through the door and approaches the closed casket, only for a bunch of birds to fly at him from under the shroud covering its lower end. He tries to run back outside, but a servant closes and locks the door before he can make it. He then goes over to his stand and opens his book, only for a bird to, inexplicably, fly out of it. Telling himself

that a Cossack shouldn't fear anything, he collapses to the floor, but takes the opportunity to go ahead and draw a holy circle. He gets to his feet, assuring himself it's not scary anymore, and begins drunkenly reciting the prayers, pulling a bottle out of his pouch. His prayers are interrupted when the coffin lifts up into the air and swings back and forth across from him. Frightened, he crosses himself and continues reciting his prayers in a desperate voice, as the coffin finds itself blocked 

by the holy circle's barrier. In its whirling around in the air, it suddenly hits the corner of the wall, knocking the lid off and exposing Pannochka. Still in the coffin, she flies over Khoma and through the air, going higher and higher up towards the church's ceiling, while repeatedly calling his name. Eventually, in her flying in circles, she finds the spot where he's at the stand but, like before, can't get past the holy circle, slamming the head of the coffin back and forth against it. Recoiling from her

relentless attack, Khoma finally decides he's had enough and removes one of his boots and throws it at the coffin, hitting its front and ceasing its swaying. At that moment, as he falls to the floor, the rooster crows. The coffin sets back down onto its podium and Pannochka lies back in it. Before she becomes dormant again, she attempts to curse Khoma, but only succeeds in turning his hair gray. Nonetheless, he's so exhausted from the ordeal that, when the servants open the door and enter the church, they have to pick him off the floor and lead him outside.

Following his fruitless meeting with the Sotnik and escape attempt, Khoma, after getting drunk again, has to be led back to the church for the final night. Before walking through the door, he declares that he'll go on a buying spree when he receives the thousand gold coins for completing the vigil. One of the servants gives him a small candle and pushes him through the door, imploring him to go read his prayers. Like before, he lights a few candles inside and promptly draws a holy circle around the stand containing his book. Kissing the floor inside it, he

stands up and recites prayers, asking God for help and virtually sings as he looks up at the drawing of Christ on the church's ceiling. But then, Pannochka rises up in her coffin once again, declaring that she will cast a spell on him; Khoma, in turn, asks God to bring his wrath down upon her. Pannochka begins summoning the various demons and ghouls from every corner of the church, as Khoma is surrounded by the huge, ghostly hands that emerge from the floor and reach for him. More and more monsters appear (that creepy shot of them scuttling

down the wall was actually used in the FBI Warning on the Severin Blu-Ray!), their shadows stretching across the walls, as Khoma crosses himself in sheer terror. A gust of wind blows through the church, knocking over books, sending birds flying up at the ceiling, and causing the chandelier to sway until it smashes one of the windows. Pannochka laughs evilly at all of this, but when the demons can't get at Khoma either, she declares, "I summon Viy!" The others all stop in their tracks upon hearing this and recoil in terror.

As she demands that Viy be brought there, the birds and cats from before all flee. Khoma watches as Viy enters the room, stomping over towards him while flanked by many of the demons. Pannochka asks Viy to find Khoma and Viy asks that his enormous eyelids be lifted up. Pannochka motions for the others to do as he asks, while Khoma turns away, saying he must not look at him. Viy's eyes are promptly opened and he stomps towards Khoma, who then hears the sound of the rooster

crowing. Believing himself to be safe, he then makes the mistake of turning and looking at Viy, who, in turn, points his finger at him and tells the others, "Here he is." Khoma attempts to fight the demons off with his stand but one of them takes it away and he's swarmed as he cries for help. Viy watches as he's forced down to the floor and attacked, while Pannochka laughs. The rooster crows again and the demons all run for cover back to their own world, while Pannochka, in a series of

sharp cuts, turns back into the old crone she was when Khoma and his friends first met her. She hops back into her casket and, laughing one last time, lays back, only for the box to fall apart around her. All is quiet when the Rector and another seminarian enter the church, only for them to see what's happened and run back outside to tell everyone else, as Khoma lies dead in the middle of his holy circle.

Composed by Karen Khachaturian, Viy's music score is just as off-beat and unusual as the film itself, often coming off as more mischievous and fantastical than scary. The opening title theme is kind of eerie, as it's a low-key, creeping sort of piece, but it also has instances of a silly-sounding flute and some other sneaking, sly parts to it as well. The first piece of music in the actual film is a jovial, spirited string theme that plays when the seminarians are allowed to leave, followed by a softer but still happy bit for the little bit of them traveling through the countryside. That sneaking part of the opening titles is played once again for when the witch first tries to seduce Khoma, and when she rides him and then flies up into the air with him, we get an ethereal, mysterious, but lovely piece with vocalizing voices and an instrument that sounds like a harp. It transitions into a low, menacing string bit when Khoma makes her land and he beats on her, but that otherworldly, ethereal theme comes back when we get our first look at Pannochka in the midst of the beating. A frantic-sounding string piece, accompanied by occasional screeching chords, plays when Khoma runs off in a panic, and this theme is reused later on when he futilely attempts to escape from the Sotnik's farmstead and at the end, when the demons retreat upon hearing the rooster crow. Speaking of which, Khoma's journey to the farm with the Sotnik's servants by a lovely, peaceful theme that's perfect for casual traveling. The eerie parts of the opening credits are first heard in the brief moment where the Sotnik is seen sitting by Pannochka's deathbed, and the score starts to become eerie again during the three night vigil. As you might expect, the creepiness comes out in full force when Pannochka first rises from her coffin and grows and grows as the scene goes on, until it's loud and bombastic as she tries to get at Khoma through the holy circle. It grows soft and ethereal again when, upon hearing the rooster crow, she floats back to her coffin. A similarly threatening piece of music, this one a whirling, screeching theme that sounds akin to A Night on Bald Mountain, plays when she flies around in coffin during the second night. And during the third night, the appearance of all those demons and ghouls is scored just as creepily, with light, scriggling strings that sound like some of the music later used in The Shining, and unsettling xylophone-like tones and chimes. Finally, when Viy is summoned, he has his own leitmotif, which is a pounding sound, which acts as his footsteps, accompanied by low horns, accentuating his monstrous form.

Besides the actual score, there are songs heard here and there, most of them being the traditional tunes Khoma and his fellow seminarians sing at the beginning and the drunken ones he sings with the servants, as well as the solemn hymn sung during Pannochka's funeral procession. However, one that stands out is this really mournful song, sung by some distant female voices, either on the soundtrack or somewhere on the Sotnik's farmstead. Either way, this sad song, which you hear when Khoma is sitting in the yard after the second night, and following his fruitless appeal to the Sotnik, appears to signify that there's no hope for him, that he is absolutely doomed. Sure enough, right after this moment is when he tries to escape but doesn't get very far, and is then brought back to prepare for the final night that will lead to his death.

Being a Soviet film, Viy never got a theatrical release in the United States and so, I wasn't expecting there to be an English dub... but, lo and behold, Severin's release does come with one. I'm sure this dub was done either specifically for this release or for an earlier English-language home video release but, whichever the case, it has the sound and feel of the dubs done for Italian, Spanish, and other European films from the 60's on into the 80's, albeit with better acting and a more diverse group of actors. This dub is actually quite good, as it follows the original dialogue pretty closely and all of the voices fit the characters, especially the actor whom they got to dub Khoma, and I also like that they didn't do the typical voice modulation for Viy but rather, just got someone with a naturally threatening voice. Although, I will say that I think the Rector's voice was made a little too severe than it should've been, considering how it sounded originally. The dubbing wasn't the only change made, as I'm sure there were several brief shots removed, and they added some sound effects, notably some actual pounding footsteps for Viy himself, in addition to the music attached directly to him. But, all in all, it wasn't a bad dub job at all and I would recommend giving it a shot if you're someone who's not a big fan of subtitles.

Viy was definitely a pleasant surprise for me and I'm now glad I took the time to seek it out, as it's a remarkable little film. It tells its story in a quick but effective manner, one in which it starts off as a light-hearted, even humorous fable but becomes creepier as it goes on; it has a cast who give good performances all around; it's very technically sophisticated in terms of its cinematography, art direction, and visual effects work; it has a memorably offbeat music score; and the story's centerpiece, the three-night vigil, is amazing to watch play out and culminates in a crescendo full of nightmarish creatures and visuals. Other than the effects often being quite obvious, even for the time, and the title character being a little hard to take seriously when he finally does show up at the end, there's nothing negative I can say about the movie and it's another I strongly suggest you seek out if you haven't already seen it or have never even heard of it.