Viy (1967)

Drawing from the same Nikolai Gogol story as Mario Bava's Black Sunday, I must admit I thought I knew what to expect going into this film. In actuality, I was way off-base and pleasantly surprised. This film is almost a folk horror-comedy in the vein of The Lair of the White Worm, and quite reminiscent of the recently-covered Leptricia as well, only much more skillfully crafted and more gripping overall. Like a classic fable or folk tale, our normally dashing and heroic protagonist is replaced with someone decidedly more cowardly and pragmatic. Like the villagers in the story, we speak behind our hands and watch him closely from a distance, steadfast in the knowledge that he will get what's coming to him, though it's hard not to like the thick bastard by the end despite everything.

As for the Black Sunday connection, there is almost none. The only parts that were even similar were a few mentions of vampires and a curse being placed on someone, and that's pretty much it. This is a very folky sort of monster movie where everything lives and dies on very strict and specific rules that dictate everything. Every night for three nights will our protagonist return and say prayers over the body of a dead girl, and so there is inherent tension in the concept as things grow ever more grim each night. He protects himself with a magic circle drawn in chalk and recites from the bible like a mad priest performing an exorcism. In these sequences, the camera moves around in very effective ways, underscoring the chaos of the situation and the terror the protagonist is experiencing. It all feels like a mad ballet of actors, extras, and crew and not unlike some unholy black mass. By the time the legions of hell make their appearance on screen in all their glory, I was totally won over. All I could think watching the little greasy naked devils move about in this film was how strange it is that I've never before made the connection between oily specters of folklore and the Woodsmen from Twin Peaks: The Return, but I digress. 

It's a madcap way to end an enjoyable celluloid folk tale. The humor doesn't always land perfectly but it holds its own, if only because it's all so baffling that it keeps you sort of disarmed throughout. It has some of the appeal of a good slasher film or Hitchcockian suspense story, where the whole point of everything is watching the crook get their comeuppance in the end, but it's also got folklore, expressive set design with a vintage visual texture, colorful cinematography and fun, retro effects. It isn't particularly scary, and its blend of horror, comedy, and morality won't be to everyone's taste, though little worthwhile is, truth be told. It feels distinctly like the kind of story that would have done well in the period it's set in; it'll make you laugh, make you jump, and even maybe teach you a thing or two about what to do if you ever run into a spooky old hag in the forest.