‘Viy’ or — The Original Evil Dead?
(No spoilers)
‘Viy’ (1967) is a Soviet horror/fantasy film based on the short novel by Nikolai Gogol. Although, hang on! Wasn’t the U.S.S.R. an atheistic state? So how will the supernatural element work here? And this young lad is rather inexperienced and inept at performing religious rites so how seriously should we be taking this? The good news is ‘Viy’ deals with religion and the supernatural in the way they quite frankly deserve — i.e. flippantly. Because despite its folklore setting and dreamy tone ‘Viy’ might just be one of the progenitors of films like ‘The Evil Dead II’ (1987) and by the end you might, much like a badly constructed skeleton, be trying to locate your jaw on the floor from what you’ve just witnessed.
Khoma is a young student and a bit of a schlub. Not only have he and his friends lost their way walking home from their seminary for the holidays but he might also have inadvertently killed a witch. Still, she had jumped on his back and rode Khoma about like a horse so she kinda had it coming, right?
Returning to his seminary the Rector informs the young student that a rich merchant has demanded Khoma to personally travel to his home to pray over his dying daughter. However, upon arriving Khoma discovers the daughter has died and he now has to spend three consecutive nights holding a vigil for her soul in a creepy church… alone. If he succeeds a great reward will be his. If he fails… well, it might not just be the girl who has wound up dead.
The night of the first vigil is, well let’s just say Khoma has quite the evening. But he survives, just, and there’s only another two nights to go. What can go wrong?!
The first aspect of ‘Viy’ that might strike you is the cinematography which is, quite simply, GORGEOUS! It has that dream-like, hazy quality to it that so many Soviet and Eastern Bloc films of the era would often possess. There’s a bucolic intensity on display here that evokes half remembered childhood Summers, something accentuated further by the film’s ability to seamless flow from stunning location filming to studio sets, all dressed beautifully to heighten the sense of the serene and the fantastical.
The other aspect is the set design which explodes as a sort of cross between Mario Bava’s work and Parajanov’s ‘The Colour of Pomegranates’ (1969) as Russian iconography clashes and co-mingles with effective gothic horror filmmaking. This results in some truly striking imagery. On top of that the film’s directors, Konstantin Yershov and Georgi Kropachyov, along with production designer and effects master Aleksandr Ptushko, utilise every conceivable form of special effects style or device at their disposal to bring this imagery to life.
This is no better demonstrated than during the three nighttime vigils which are an increasingly elaborate series of set pieces where Khoma battles evil forces, battles which involve everything from invisible force fields to… well, I don’t want to give anything more anyway because part of ‘Viy’s charm is discovering its surprises for yourself. By the time the climatic vigil occurs I was deliberately keeping my hopes down in case it was a letdown or anti-climatic compared to what had preceded it. I needn’t have worried because the closing to ‘Viy’ is easily one of the most visually inventive; imaginatively varied, oneirically inspired, and theatrically overwhelming sequences of cinema I’ve seen in… well, in a long time I can tell you that!
It’s a kaleidoscopic celebration of the unreal, like taking the work of Jean Cocteau and mixing it up with Lovecraftian ‘In The Mouth of Madness’ style horror, some Dr Seuss type creature design, puppetry, Murnau, William Castle, Tim Burton and early Sami Raimi and Peter Jackson. It’s an eye-popping in the extreme and must’ve influenced many special effects artists. Indeed, at times it briefly reminded me of Randy Cook’s excellent work in ‘The Gate’ (1987) — I think it was the horrible, little creatures scurrying around and through wood.
Yet some caution for horror-hounds going into ‘Viy’ as it’s a bit of a slow burn and takes a while to reveal its true colours. It starts as a folktale before morphing into fantastical horror before we then start to realise it’s, more than anything, a comedy. Notice Khoma’s sidelong looks of silent exasperation when being told he has to stand another vigil, or his selfish moaning before God, or his ineptitude, etc. But he’s honest and without a shred of insincerity. I think this is that provides the film’s “secular” vibe.
It’s when the comedy/horror element kicks in, around halfway through, that ‘Viy’ can fully flex its cinematic muscles and blow our heads off. Sure, horror fans might be disappointed as the film deliberately undercuts any “horror” tension it might’ve accidentally accrued along the way, but that’s because ‘Viy’ isn’t about supernatural terror or theological fear. It’s something more fundamental and genuine to the human condition than any of those; it’s an exercise in the imagination and a phenomenal one at that.
