SOYUZMULTFILM (translation/subtitles by Niffiwan, helped by AxmxZ and members of prodisney.ru)
Based on the works of Arkhangelsk resident-writers and bards of the Russian north, Boris Shergin and Stepan Pisakhov
Laughter and Grief by the White Sea
Screenplay Yuriy Koval, Leonid Nosyrev
Director Leonid Nosyrev
Art director Vera Kudryavtseva
Composer Yevgeniy Botyarov
Cinematographer Nadezhda Mikhaylova
Sound operator Boris Filchikov
Editor: Olga Vasilenko Assistant director: Tatyana Galkina
Animators: Anatoliy Abarenov Aleksey Bukin Yuriy Kuzyurin
Animators: Oleg Komarov Viktor Likhachyov Iosif Kuroyan
Marina Rogova Rena Mirenkova Marina Voskanyants Lyudmila Lobanova Yelena Malashenkova
Voices: Yevgeniy Leonov Yuriy Volyntsev Anatoliy Barantsev Boris Novikov
Mariya Vinogradova Kira Smirnova Tatyana Vasilyeva Klara Rumyanova
Lament vocals Zinaida Popova
"Northern Ringing" author and performer Ivan Danilov
Folk music ensemble under the direction of Dmitriy Pokrovskiy
"Moscow Hornists"
Artists: V. Kharitonova N. Alferova I. Svetlitsa I. Kuzmina S. Davydova Ye. Kachkova
V. Zakharov S. Mashkova N. Mitrokhin L. Biryukova M. Ignatenko I. Balashova T. Yegorova
worked on the film: G. Sapgir V. Kutuzov A. Chekhovskiy O. Isakova Ye. Kunakova T. Dombrovskaya
B. Kotov L. Krutovskaya M. Popova L. Butyrina K. Rasulov V. Yegorshin
Script editor Natalia Abramova
Production director Tatyana Zozulya
My dear country is enveloped, from the north,
by the great polar sea,
the Arctic Ocean.
From the polar sea, to the south, spreads the White Sea
Our fair Gandvik.
Into the White Sea flows the Arkhangelsk Dvina.
Quiet and fair is that river.
It flows from the south to the north
and, under the Arkhangelsk mountain, meets the sea.
Arkhangelsk city is to the whole sea a gate.
High above hovers the blue sky.
Far out expands the ocean-sea.
Uncounted are the endless marshlands
of our Dvina, of Arkhangelsk.
Sleeping, lads?
No, not sleeping.
Living.
Speak, old man.
Of our Arkhangelsk region, so much untruth and silliness is told,
that I've resolved to tell the whole simple truth.
Whatever I say
is all true.
For example,
Eternal Icebergs
For example,
our river Dvina at its narrow point,
is 20 miles wide.
And at its wide point,
wider than the sea.
People travel on it on Eternal Icebergs.
We even have Icebergers;
people who make their living doing the ice business.
They transport icebergs from the sea and rent them out.
To those who want them.
Eternal Iceberg
In Old Times, engaged girls got an Eternal Iceberg for their dowry.
And also a fox fur overcoat.
So that she'd have a way and a dress to visit guests across the river.
Eternal Love
Peace and Love
In the summer we get many visitors. (Sign: "Eternal Iceberg Rentals")
They'd come to the Iceberger and start bargaining,
wanting the nicest of icebergs for just 3 kopeks per person!
Even riding a tram in those years cost 15 kopeks a head.
But the Iceberger said, sure; he agreed outwardly,
and slipped him a spoiled, old, rotting iceberg
nearly lifeless.
Here's your thrift item!
That's how it was!
About the Bear
In our parts, polar bears sell milk on the street.
They're trained for it.
Polar bear cubs sell sunflower seeds,
and produce hand-rolled cigarettes.
Various birds chirp
arctic owls, geese, swans...
northern eagles,
penguins.
Penguins, though they don't live here, come to make money.
They use street organs, hand drums...
But brown bears are strictly forbidden from entering.
Because it's the north, after all.
"No Entry for Brown Bears!"
One time a carriage was carrying a flour bag and dropped it in the woods.
A bear found it.
He rolled in the flour, and became like a white bear.
Daddy!
To the market he went, to sell seeds and kvass.
Daddy!
They recognized him, of course; his real self showed through!
Daddy!
No Entry for Brown Bears!
Our folk is kind. They gave him some sliced dried apples, a stone of sugar,
and told him to come back sometime for his wheelbarrow.
Frozen Songs
In the summer, it never goes dark.
We don't sleep.
In the day we work,
at night we go out.
We have races with the reindeer!
And in the fall we get ready for winter.
We dry the northern lights.
At first, after all, they don't shine that brightly.
We yank them down, and hang them in bundles.
and they hang there, not drying out or ageing.
and at wintertime we'll take the northern lights,
soak them in warm water, and ignite them.
They shine brightly, clean the air, and smell good.
In Old Times, temperatures reached -200, -300.
In my memory, they even reached -500.
In that frost, any word which leaves a mouth freezes.
Every word has its own look, colour, light...
Women would make knitted lace from the songs, and various pretty things.
They'd hang them in front of the house,
putting the best words on the roof crest
and funny poems on the sides.
No place was more adorned than our village Uyma.
One time an overseas merchant walked by,
and saw the decorations; the frozen songs.
What a wonderfull, interesting, wild oddity!
VERY GOOD
FROZEN SONGS
The foreigner decided to order some songs,
to bring to his own country for listening and marvelling.
WE AGREE
WE WILL SING
Our daughters, mothers, grandmothers, those who have a voice,
all started singing songs,
freezing them.
Songs don't hurt work; they can be sung while the job's being done
and they bring profit.
SING
They put the songs into special boxes
and marked where the front and the back were
so that they wouldn't be played back to front.
Some big heaps were sung.
In the spring, they sent them over on steamships.
They were brought to a foreign country.
Everyone was curious,
what are these frozen songs from Arkhangelsk?
The theatre was filled to the brim!
A swan is swimming.
My white swan.
A soul is singing.
A fair maiden is singing
with her fair soul.
Though the foreigners don't understand our tongue,
they understood the beauty of our songs.
Fine are our songs here in Arkhangelsk.
Long and lingering they are.
That is true.
Nobody can outyell our women!
Without song, if you want to know,
we have darkness inside.
With song, we air out our essence.
With song, we enlighten ourselves as with a lamp.
Mashka, Mashka.
Zhuzha, Zhuzha.
Here, it's cozy as a feather, sheltered from the raging weather.
Grandpa Sen, another tale, eh?
I'll tell one about these two.
A Pomor tale I will spin,
of kind Ivan and a bad tsar.
of the tsar's devious daughter Ulyanka
who souped in Paris on Solyanka.
And also, I'll tell in this epic tale
of two true friends, and the snake Scarapeya.
In a certain land, in our very own kingdom,
in a place flat as a tablecloth
lived Ivan Goodheart with his mother, in the suburbs.
Their home was humble as could be.
No wood to burn, no food to eat.
And so Ivan decided to sell his only hat
to buy his mother some gingerbread for her name day.
Thus he went to the market.
Stranger, why are you torturing that animal?
What, I'm supposed to ask for permission?
Sell me the cat.
Sure.
The whole thing?
The whole thing. I'll give it to my mother for her name day.
The hat is ours, the cat is yours.
All right.
Mother, I bought a kitty.
Named "Mashka".
A present for your name day.
"For mother's name day"
Phooey!
We wouldn't need it even were it given freely.
Then Ivan resolved to sell his last shirt.
To buy some flour and fish.
Lad, why are you tormenting an animal again?
What's it to you?
Well, we want to purchase the dog from you.
Sure.
Your dog, our shirt.
She's a unique dog - "Zhuzha", with a white coat.
Take it!
Where's the shirt?
See, I traded it for this dog, Zhuzha.
With a white coat.
Buying dogs and cats...
while at home there's nothing to eat.
Well, what choice was there?
Ivan decided to sell his jacket, with pockets.
For the third time Ivan went to the market.
I feel sad for the jacket with pockets, Masha.
Ivan looks so handsome in it.
Stranger,
what're you toying with animals for? Stop that!
Here is a snake that I can part with.
Buy it to amuse your mother.
I'll exchange it for the jacket.
With pockets, of course.
Mother...
I bought a snake.
His poor mother was about to faint right there!
Without question.
This was the worst that could happen.
So they began to live, white Zhuzha and grey Mashka.
Ivan with his mother, and the snake Scarapeya.
The mother did not like Scarapeya.
Didn't call her to dinner, didn't call her by name.
What a tale!
Oh mother, what are you hurting her for?
From beyond the wooded island To the river wide and free
Proudly sailed the arrow-breasted Ships of Cossack yeomanry.
On the first is Stenka Razin With his princess by his side
Hark how they sing.
Oh father, what bad taste!
That's Ivan from the suburbs, screaming his throat out.
Listening, are you, old warbler?
Letting in smoke and bloodthirsty bugs!
Ivan?
A deep "merci" to you.
You gave me drink, food, and gave away your only jacket with pockets
in exchange for me.
I'll tell you my secret.
Ivan, I'm the daughter of the snake king.
For my rescue, I grant you a golden ring.
A magic one.
What? Does our mistress? Want?
Here is your master. Serve him from now on.
But first, photograph us for remembrance
and send me to my father.
Mother, if you were rich, what would you want?
Onion, fish, butter. I'd bake some pirogis!
What? Does our new master? Want?
Some flour, sugar and butter too.
Mother! Get the dough ready or the pirogis will take over a day to make!
Oh, what pirogis, where's the flour for them?
You're dreaming.
Wake up yourself, I say, and visit the storehouse.
Oh, how much easier it became to breathe now!
His mother had a yellow dress, a hat with 20 feathers!
What a fashionable dame she became!
Ivan also didn't leave the mirror.
On him was a hat, galoshes, a new jacket - with pockets.
Mother, no need to daddle; go and propose marriage to the tsar's daughter.
There!
Ivan, of course I'm a respectable lady now, with fashionable clothes,
but aren't you aiming a little high? Maybe a general's...
Go and propose, talk no more.
Meanwhile, the emperor is drinking tea with his family
from an archaic samovar,
with three pounds of chow on each plate;
lots of foodstuff.
Greetings, Your High Noble Emperor-ness.
Hello.
You have a product; we have a buyer.
Will you not give your Ulyanka to my Ivan to wed?
What a laugh - a husband has turned up!
Who is he? A prince?
Of what kingdom?
The kingdom is yours, and his rank is not high.
So is he rich in capital?
The capital is in Ivan's head!
Are you insane, you matchmaker?
We're swimming in suitors like in a compost heap.
So if he's with a head, as you say,
let him, from his porch to our castle,
create a bridge, systematically engineered.
And have it be made of crystal!
His Highness has posed a fine riddle.
"Let there be from our castle, to your porch,
a bridge,
systemically engineered, from crystal."
Don't worry, mother! The mind's fresher in the morning!
What? Does master? Want?
Instead of our home, let there be a kingly dwelling,
and from our door to the tsar's palace, a crystal bridge.
Also a car with a kerosene engine.
There.
In the morning Ivan and his mother woke up...
What happened? In every corner is a golden bed!
Mirrors everywhere! Curtains!
Store-bought furniture!
Oh, Ivan!
What beauty!
Mother, go call the emperor, and I, as the groom, will drive up in the car.
There!
Greetings, Your Greatness.
Hello!
Yesterday you ordered a bridge to be cobbled,
so now please look over the work.
The groom will personally come for coffee.
A bridge! Rest my poor soul, a bridge!
-Marimyanna! -What?
Leave the trough alone! Throw my crown here, and my coat here.
I'll go and feel it, maybe it's an optical illusion...
Well now, it's a fact! A bridge!?
And it's crystal! Crystal!
What?
Dress Ulyanka in the veil!
I'm pleased to invite
Your Greatness, with your spouse and your daughter to take a ride.
To open the roads, so to speak.
I wouldn't mind.
I won't crawl into that monstrosity.
What am I, insane?
It'll fall into the river.
Marimyanna, don't shame yourself,
don't shame yourself before other countries.
Get into the buggy!
I think I'd prefer to lie on a nice sofa right now,
or at least on some grass...
even the ground would be fine.
Ivan!
Go back!
They designed a fabulous wedding.
The whole affair was covered in the newspapers.
They sent the young couple to Ivan's house.
But only this young princess didn't need Ivan.
She already had a suitor outside the country.
What a gangrene Ivan wedded himself to!
Oh, I feel in my heart - she'll show her nature.
Ivan, I'm yours for eternity.
But won't you be open to your lovely spouse, Ivan?
Where did you get these riches from?
How handsome you are
but won't you tell me, Ivan?
He couldn't dodge it.
Ulyanka's trying to find out about Scarapeya's magic ring.
This Ulyanka smells worse than kerosene!
What? Does our new mistress? Want?
Take me and this house, and the bridge
and place us in the middle of Paris, where my beloved lives!
The emperor went for a walk along the river in the morning.
And it was like the bridge was never there.
Where's the bridge?
Oh, there is no bridge!
I ask, where is my bridge?!
Ivan was put under guard and thrown into prison.
So what, Ivan is supposed to sit innocent in a dark prison, while Ulyanka strolls around Paris?
Let us run and get the magic ring, Masha!
And so they went to Paris!
Treading through dark forests,
Walking through wide steppes,
Climbing over high mountains,
Well, they gave some concerts in cities along the way, with great success.
And, just like that, they reached Paris.
You, Zhuzha, warm up the engine; we'll escape from Paris in the car.
And I'll climb in and get the ring!
See where the drapes are lowered; that's the bedroom.
Oh, how they made legs with the dog!
They drove away from Paris
and without rest all the way home they flew...
What? Does our old master? Want?
My house, and the bridge, bring from Paris to their old places,
and Ulyanka - return her to her parents!
She is my wife no longer!
There!
Ivan! I'm yours for eternity!
Ivan! Accept a telegram!
I forgive you! Full stop.
Instead of Ulyanka I'm giving another daughter. Full stop.
I'll add some money! You hear? Really!
Tsar-emperor.
We won't take your daughters for free, nor for money!
And so, Ivan took a wife from the village.
A fine girl...
SCARAPEYA
Fortune smiled on Ivan!
It's time for you too, Parya, to get married.
I'll serve in the army, then definitely get married.
You just watch it, or you'll snag yourself another Ulyanka.
Or Her Sharpness, the Sawess.
She'll be real sharp...
What do you mean... sharp?
With a two-handed saw.
With a hacksaw.
It's even worse to cut with the voice.
Here, listen to this...
The Sawess
"Like so..."
This Sawess once went
(though she had a different name back then)
into the forest for berries.
The berry is blackberry. The yield is large.
The Sawess is in a hurry, she's grabbing berries with the grabber.
And in front of her is a bear
who's also gathering berries, and stuffing his mouth.
The Sawess... from fear found such a voice
that she made the bear faint.
And the Sawess decided
that she could now do whatever she wanted with her voice,
even cut trees.
The Sawess, first of all, made sure that the bear was unconscious
then she dragged him home, as material proof of her ordeal.
Hey soldiers, brave lads, who are your mothers?
Our mothers are our white tents, that's who our mothers are.
Hey soldiers, brave lads, who are your wives?
Our wives are our loaded rifles, that's who our wives are.
right here...
Oh how she caught the husband at home!
"Why did he let her into the woods alone?!"
"Why did he put her into this danger?!"
"Why did he not help carry the bear?"
Such a holler she let loose,
look what this woman made happen.
She bored a hole through the man.
We need to get a doctor.
The Sawess ran to get a doctor
and I applied first aid to the bear.
I heaved him onto my back, and then onto the bench.
As for me, I wait impatiently.
The Sawess came back in an instant.
She found some sort of doctor,
a Hippocrates in a hat.
This Hippocrates immediately began to examine the hole.
Firefly - Mixture
The doctor looked the wound over and said:
If it had been a tiny way to the side, the heart would've been punctured.
He gave him some years yet to live,
only he decreed that a wooden plug must be made.
As soon as the Sawess's husband gained consciousness,
he immediately began to breathe.
An unusual thing happened then
the hole began to sing.
What a showstopper!
The man was smart, and immediately realized the value of the hole.
A musical instrument was given to him for free!
I was born a reckless lad, and foolhardy I will die,
when they come to break my head, nice and early I'll drop by.
So he opens or closes the hole, as needed.
Wind drafts through the hole,
and enjoyable music plays.
That's the soul singing...
They call him to the weddings now; instead of a button accordion player.
When to me my mom gave birth, a big quake shook Mother Earth;
I was born with no delay, and rolled 80 yards away!
From the nose of my dear I sawed off a thick veneer
ninety growths were on that prong; now it's only two feet long.
Nowadays, as soon as the Sawess's voice comes into strength,
we use her for the public good.
We send her out to cut down trees and bushes!
How across the Northern Dvina Senya swam on his ship...
Big ships, little ships, like apples and oranges...
Once upon a time, I served as a ferryman
and such a tale took place...
The Orange
One day, I was sailing on my ferry
The river was quiet; playing with the sky's colours
and I was looking at them.
I sail, I gaze and peel an orange in a daze
And I don't really notice what I'm doing.
I peeled the orange, and carelessly tossed it into the water
Only the skin was left in my hands.
Oh, I didn't grieve about it too much.
I asked my skipper (the knock-kneed bear who was my helper)
to mark the spot on the smooth water.
I'll sail past and see what my orange is doing.
Go on!
Our Severodvinsk water is amazing!
I myself grew tall from it, and the orange should too.
Ferryman! Come to shore!
Full speed ahead!
In summer our land is rich in light.
The sun shines 'round the clock.
The orange began to grow. It grew faster and faster.
Soon, it became a big tree above the water
and began to flower.
Oh, what a wonder this is!
Water all around, the sky high above,
and a big orange tree in bloom between them.
The orange spread its beauty in all directions.
The orange soon ripened
but rather far from the water.
You can't reach it with hand or oar
or place a ladder so far from shore.
BORIS SHERGIN STEPAN PISAKHOV
And I began to ponder: How to get that orange?
And I thought of a way!
We need to call the Sawess.
I explained to her the task of the moment, brought her to battle-readiness,
and told her not to open her mouth before my command!
Saw!
That woman's overly nervous.
But she must complete this important task.
Saw!
I divided the oranges into two halves.
Half to our village, half to those across the river;
If something benefits other people, I don't grieve for its loss.
And the tree I used for its light.
The 24-hour sun infused the orange peel with its light.
I made a bulb from the skin,
and stored the orange's solar energy in it.
Our villagers, and those across the river
feasted on the orange all winter long!
and used its light!
and it never died.
and that is how our northern, lively hardiness comes to be.
Sleeping, Christian folk?
No, no...
Spin on, old man, spin on.
I'll tell you, to conclude
a true Pomor tale
about our fisherman's life.
Listen, and take warning,
and take wonder.
To suffer hardships and perish is not proper for a Pomor.
The sea... is capricious and fierce.
An edict is laid down.
All who sail in these regions
of the ocean-sea
remember the brothers Ivan and Andrian.
Following the example of their ancestors,
Ivan and Andrian worked in the sea trade.
In ages past they toiled far north of Arkhangelsk,
carving wood.
At the end of August, Ivan and Andrian, like loons,
journeyed onto their own little island
where they lived for several days.
Such is the fisherman's dole in life:
the floor is wet, but the stomach is full.
And so, they finished their bread,
and drank their water.
They left some water for the morning's journey,
to sail to the mainland.
A tragedy took place. Horrible, irreversible.
Ivan and Andrian reasoned like this:
We're not the first, we're not the last.
If the world loses another two tradesmen,
from this the wide world will not change.
According to tradition, they had to leave an epitaph
Of who they are, the deceased
and where they are from.
Oh woe, woe, my child my Pomor son
you went away like a ship white-sailed
like a seagull white-winged
like a spruce tree supple
like a willow in the spring
oh woe, woe my child my Pomor son
the white-sailed ship has gone beyond the sea
the gull has flown past the blue horizon
and the spruce tree lies felled
the willow has been deflowered
oh woe, woe my child my Pomor son
My brood has flown away
and left me to live in grief
from tedium and weariness
from great misfortune
where will I walk? where will I go?
I'll walk along a field I'll watch the unclouded sky
two geese are flying two songsters are flying
I will ask the two geese I will ask the grey ones
are you not my sons? are you not blood-brothers?
There are no tears to match a mother's
There is no lament to match a widow's
Andrian, the younger brother, lived on the island for six weeks.
The day of his death was marked by Ivan on the back of the memorial board.
The time when Ivan put down his artist's arms
is not written down in our human script.
The shipwrights, Ivan and Andrian,
here ended their earthly labours
and collapsed into the long rest
and wait for the archangel's horn.
To distract our minds from timeless boredom
to this whole board we applied our determined hands.
Andrian graced this frame with carvings for mirth,
Ivan wrote the chronicle for disclosing
that we are of Lichutin kin, Mezen townsmen.
And remember us, all who sail past these parts of the ocean-sea.
Death not all will take,
only its own will it take.
Sleeping?
Lads?
Living!
...grandpa Sen...
End of the film (C) Studio "Soyuzmultfilm" 1988