Viy

Synopsis: Getting lost, wandering home whilst on leave from his seminary, novice monk Khoma stays in the barn of an old woman. A scuffle breaks out. Later, he is summoned to stand and pray over a young dead woman, in the local church, for three nights. It is here that, while in the long, dark nights of the locked doors, the dead regain life, the souls of Hell taunt the young monk to near terrifying insanity, and the test of Faith will be as powerful as the witches, monsters and the mighty demon Viy who haunt his every step and bay for his very soul.
 
IMDB:
7.5
Year:
1967
77 min
163 Views


MOSFILM:

Artistic Association "Luch"

"Viy is a colossal creation of

the imagination of simple folk.

The tale itself is a purely

popular legend.

And I tell it without change,

in all its simplicity,

exactly as I heard it told to me."

Gogol.

VlY

Screenplay by A. PTUSHKO,

K. YERSHOV, G. KROPACHYOV

Based on the short novel

by N.V. Gogol

Artistic Director

and special effects designer

Alexander PTUSHKO

Directed by graduates of Advanced

Film Directors Courses

K. YERSHOV

and G. KROPACHYOV

Photography by

F. PROVOROV, V.PlSHCHALNlKOV

Production Designer N. MARKlN

Music by K. KHACHATURYAN

Conductor E. KHACHATURYAN

Sound by

E. KASHKEVlCH, l. STULOVA

T. Kameneva

Starring

Leonid KURAVLYOV as Khoma

N. VARLEY as Young Woman

A. GLAZYRlN as Sotnik

N. KUTUZOV as Witch

N. ZAKHARCHENKO as Khaliava

P. VESKLYAROV as Rector

V. SALNlKOV as Gorobetz

D. KAPKA as Overko

P. VESKLYAROV as Dorosh

S. SHKOURAT as Yavtukh

G. SOCHEVKO as Stepan

N. YAKOVCHENKO as Spirid

N. PANASlEV as Comforter

Read, Rector!.

Rector!.

Now that you're going home,

just try to stay out of mischief!.

On last vacation, two seminarians,

disguised as devils,

were caught stealing chickens.

Zozulia and Lemesh, I mean you!

The other three

had gotten a deacon drunk,

and then goaded him into singing

bawdy, indecent songs!

For shame!

And now, let us pray together.

Lord, let the Light of Thy wisdom

shine down upon us.

And bestow on our hearts

Thy tender mercy.

Preserve us from all evil.

And Heaven and Earth will resound

with glorious songs of praise.

Amen.

Be sure you return in time for the

Feast of the lmmaculate Conception!

We should've spotted a farm

long ago.

The devil would lose his way too,

in this darkness.

- Where did the road go?

- There is no road.

Look, Khaliava, you go that way.

And I'm going over this way.

And Gorobetz...

Hey, Gorobetz!

Damn it, I took a rotten stump

for your head.

- What did you find?

- Just fox-holes.

- Well, what do we do?

-Let's sing at the top of our lungs.

Quiet! I know...

Let's sleep under the stars.

No, Khaliava, that won't do.

We have to keep looking. Someone

might give us a glass of vodka.

Sure, it's better than sleeping

under the stars.

There's a farmhouse ahead!

Come on!

It's our last chance, brothers,

to find a place to stay.

- Open up!

- Hello?

- Who is it?

- Khaliava, the theologian.

- Brutus, the philosopher.

- Gorobetz, the orator.

No, the house is full of people.

Where would I put you?

Have mercy on us, my good woman!

It's unforgivable to let Christian

souls perish in the night.

- Just somewhere to sleep...

- And if we do something wrong...

All right, but each of you must

sleep in a separate place.

Whatever you wish.

- Listen, good woman...

- We're ready to drop with hunger...

It's been so long since we've eaten.

There's nothing in the house to eat.

I haven't lit the stove all day.

Tomorrow we'll see

that you're rewarded handsomely.

You couldn't get a crumb out of

the old skinflint. The hell with her!

- Boy, I want you to come here.

- Who? Me?

You can sleep in the house.

And you, the tall one,

up in the loft.

- Well, where do I stay?

- Come with me.

What do you want, granny?

No, it's the time of lent.

And not for all the gold in the world

would I let you tempt me.

You're not in the flower of youth,

you know.

What's wrong with you, granny?

For the love of God!

Good Lord, she's a witch!

Shameless witch!

Put me down! Let me be!

In the name of God Jesus Christ,

put me down! Let me be!

If I'm not making you fly,

it must be Christ,

and his apostle, Thomas!

Oh, you're killing me!

Khoma!

Scat!

- What we need is tar.

- I know that.

Hey, Khoma, the Rector sent me

to get you. Someone came for you.

Ah, it's you, brother Khoma.

The daughter of one of our

richest Sotniks is dying.

The one who owns the estate

just twenty miles outside Kiev.

Yesterday, the girl returned home,

beaten almost to death.

She expressed a wish

that in her final agony,

the last prayers for her salvation

be said by you, Khoma Brutus.

Why me? I don't even know

how to do that!

Don't argue with me.

You will leave immediately.

The famous Sotnik was good enough

to send his men and a wagon.

You'll have to get somebody else

to go, 'cause I'm not leaving!

No one asked you

if you wanted to go or not.

Thank your good master for his

gift of the honey and the eggs.

And tell him I shall send the books

as soon as they're ready.

And as for you, I suggest you learn

to control that tongue of yours.

Otherwise, I shall have you lashed

before the whole school,

so you won't be able

to sit down for a week.

The Lord be with you.

And with your good master.

Yavtukh, see that our friends have

some vodka before they leave.

Well, don't just stand there.

Be off with you!

And if you know what's good for you,

you'll mend your ways!

You'd better tie up the philosopher,

so he won't be tempted to run off.

- Good day, my brothers.

- Good day, brother philosopher.

I've been ordered to travel

in your company.

- A splendid carriage!

-Yes, a spacious one!

We could hire some musicians and

dance with all the room there is.

I wonder, if it were filled

with a heavy load,

say you loaded up the wagon with

salt or metal poles,

can you tell me how many horses

it would take?

It would take a lot of horses,

if you have a lot of salt.

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Konstantin Ershov

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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