My dear readers, though it may make me seem a bit “square,” I do not mind admitting that I am the sort of chap who depends on a full night’s rest in order to face the challenges of each coming day. And while a pleasant slumber typically does not elude me, I have had an absolute devil of a time sleeping through the night these past weeks. I have avoided any strenuous activities in the late afternoon and eschew rich foods after the sun has set, and yet the Sandman spurns my company all the same. I suppose the main reason, if I were forced to name one, would be the yellow glow that has been encircling my closet door. It is the damndest thing, as the light socket is far out of step with modern bulb sizes and has not been functioning for some time. And yet every time I thrust open the offending portal, I am met with a sight bereft of brightness. I submitted myself to the wisdom of professional electricians but so far, all the persons I have engaged emerge unperturbed by the glow and encourage me to spend more time staring at its commanding luminescence. I may try contacting a different service. 

Seminary student Khoma Brutus (Leonid Kuravlyov) is also familiar with being kept up all night. While off on holiday, he and his chums are searching the countryside for free lodgings. They manage to come across a farmstead where Vedma (Nikolay Kutuzov), an elderly woman, agrees to house them for the evening. While trying to catch a snooze in her manger, Khoma is visited by his host, who mounts him like a steed and gallops the pair of them into the sky. Flying high above the ground, Khoma comes to the conclusion that the woman astride him is a practicing witch and once back on the ground, he attacks her quite vigorously with her own broomstick. Beating the poor old thing half to death hardly seems a mannerly response to free accommodations and an unrivaled view of the countryside, but this inhospitable fit ceases only when Vedma transforms into Pannochka (Natalya Varley), a comely young maiden.

All this excitement is a little much for Khoma, who departs with great haste for the seminary. It is here that he discovers he has been summoned by a merchant of note. The merchant’s daughter, having suffered injuries from which she will not recover, asked that Khoma pop by and make an effort to save her from hellfire. Khoma is not at all chuffed about this assignment and his displeasure only grows when he discovers that the waning soul in need of salvation is Pannochka. The girl passes away before any redemptive work can get underway but the merchant insists that Khoma spend three nights alone with the young maiden’s body so that he might pray for her. Sensing that his merciless assault may have something to do with her condition, Khoma pleads to be relieved of his duties, but to no avail. This unpleasant vigil, already complicated by Khoma’s remorses, is further disrupted by Pannochka’s tendency to rise from her coffin and summon demonic hordes.

There are many wonderful sights to to be seen in this slender film, from actor Leonid Kuravlyov’s besotted rendition of seminary scholarship to the demonic parade that Pannochka manages to conjure. But perhaps the most important aspect is Viy’s status as a “folk tale,” one which carries a rather obvious message -- when praying to various godlike entities, it pays to consider who might be the most readily available. Jesus Christ is all well and good, what with the claim of whipping up fancy dinners and such, but due to more widespread brand name recognition, he is just as likely to be out aiding some other imperiled soul. Viy, a regional dangly-eyed demon, is a much more sensible option. His incantations are hardly known outside those of Slavic descent and even then, few are about to go evoking his name in the course of a regular old day. It just goes to show that when imploring legendary beings, pragmatism is as good a strategy as any.

Viy runs 77 minutes and does not possess a certified rating in the United States.