Viy

Viy is a classic black-and-white horror film from 1967, a quintessential piece of Soviet cinema that was the country's first-ever horror film. Operating beyond mere shock value or spine-chilling tropes, the film spins a unique mythical drama that's profoundly imbued with traditional lore, shrouded with a veil of spirituality, and fraught with sinister supernatural mystery. Viy is based on a like-named novella written by Nikolai Gogol, a renowned Russian-Ukrainian writer whose works often uncloaked the mysterious countryside of Eastern Europe and its rich pool of folk tales and legends.

One of the unique signatures of the film is its impeccable casting. Leading the ensemble is Leonid Kuravlyov, in the role of Khoma Brutus, a young seminary student. Kuravlyov instills charm and relatability into his character despite his moral inconsistencies, leading the audience seamlessly into the harrowing depths of the story.

Natalya Varley stars as Pannochka, the story's enigmatic and reticent female lead. Varley's enactment of a character that cycles between life and death, innocence, and malevolence envelopes the film with an unsettling atmosphere that only heightens the air of suspense and foreboding.

Aleksey Glazyrin plays the part of the Rector, a stern and authoritarian figure who sends Khoma Brutus on an unavoidable path that forces him to confront his past. Glazyrin's performance adds gravitas to the storyline and pushes the narrative on its dark and unpredictable trajectory.

Set in rural Ukraine in the 18th century, the plot of Viy follows Khoma Brutus who stumbles upon a terrible secret during a chance encounter with a witch. Although he initially escapes this situation, he's soon called to read prayers for a dying young woman – the same witch in disguise. Trapped in a church for three nights with the witch's corpse, Khoma is forced to confront his fears and his past. He must protect himself from the witch's curse while battling the damning power of the Viy, an evil spirit summoned from the underworld.

What sets Viy apart is its successful merging of horror with surreal elements of fantasy. It vividly embodies the cultural backdrop of Eastern Europe, creating an authentic world where divine elements rendezvous with human souls. Its supernatural theme seeping into reality blurs the lines between psychology and the paranormal, spawning a world teetering on the edge of reason and chaos. The narrative swirls around themes of guilt, punishment, innocence, and redemption, delving into the intricacies of morality and the deep crevices of human nature.

The film excels in establishing a nightmarish folk atmosphere that envelops the viewers in its persistent sense of disquiet. In contrast to much modern horror, Viy eschews sudden scares and shock jumps. Instead, it unravels a slow yet ceaseless pressure that gets increasingly tenser as the layers peel off. Director Konstantin Ershov brilliantly crafts this mounting pressure by employing silence and atmospheric sound effects that rely on sparseness and eerie prolongation.

The cinematography of Viy, successfully embraced by the black-and-white format, is a dazzling spectacle in hand with storytelling. The camera articulates the enigma, moving as a silent observer through the desolate fields, the depths of the forest, and the lonely, old church, creating an unforgettable sense of claustrophobia and suspense. Each shot is meticulously framed, emphasizing shadows and exploiting rural landscapes and set pieces to create intrigue and build tension.

Viy is an unfamiliar and distinctive kind of horror film that insidiously seizes the viewer’s subconscious. It artfully showcases elements of fantasy, psychological drama, and horror while mixing them with deeply rooted traditional folklore.

This Soviet classic treads a path rarely explored in the world of horror, where the fears born out of human emotions become more terrifying than monsters and evil spirits. It is a testament to the power of folklore and wisely employed supernatural themes when woven into the tapestry of cinema. It’s this combination of elements that make Viy an enduring cinematic masterpiece, a noteworthy entry within the horror genre, and a landmark within Soviet cinema.