What joy, what merriness settles upon the heart
when you hear of that which was done in the world long, long ago.
"The Lost Letter" by N.V.Gogol
Screenplay Valentina and Zinaida Brumberg Zinoviy Kalik
Artistic supervisor Aleksandr Ptushko (Meritorious Artist of the RSFSR)
Director-producers Valentina and Zinaida Brumberg
Director Lamis Bredis
Art directors Yevgeniy Migunov, Anatoliy Sazonov
Composer Serafim Vasilenko (People's Artist of the RSFSR)
Animators - Lamis Bredis, Aleksandr Belyakov, Boris Dyozhkin
Gennadiy Filippov, Tatyana Basmanova Nadezhda Privalova, Faina Yepifanova
Lev Popov, Nina Mindovskaya
N. and Tatyana Fyodorova Pyotr Repkin
Decorative artists V.Valeryanova, V.Rodzhero
O.Gemerling, V.Suteyeva G.Nevzorova, I.Troyanova
Assistant directors K.Apestina, Y.Novoselskaya
Y.Golovanova, T.Fyodorova I.Kulneva, Y.Shilova
Narrated by Vasiliy Kachalov (State Stalin Prize recipient and People's Artist of the USSR)
Cossack voiced by M.Yanshin (Meritorious Artist of the RSFSR)
Dnieper Cossack voiced by B.Livanov (State Stalin Prize recipient and People's Artist of the RSFSR)
Witch voiced by S.Martinson
Sound design - Valeriy Popov (Meritorious Artist of the RSFSR)
Camera - N.Voinov, Y.Petrova
Sound operator N.Prikutskiy
A production of Soyuzmultfilm studio, 1945, Moscow
How intoxicating, how majestic is a summer day in Little Russia!
How luxuriously warm are those hours when midday glitters in stillness and swelter,
and the boundless blue ocean, reclining like a voluptuous dome over the earth,
seems to be slumbering, all drowned in languor,
enveloping and embracing the resplendent earth in its celestial hold.
How sensuous and tranquil is Little Russia's summer!
With such splendor did sparkle one of the searing days of August,
when the regimental scribe of the time, Goloputsek,
sent for a Cossack to be brought before him.
Here:
You are hereby charged, by the Hetman himself,
to deliver this letter to the Tsarina!
Right.
Good.
What sort of tobacco is this?!
It wouldn't make an old hen sneeze.
Hooyah! A Cossack can't afford regrets!
I'll spree and twirl for three straight days!
Play livelier, musicians!
Let everyone taste brandy today!
Hooyah, come and dance with me, lass!
Don't you worry, I won't stumble!
I won't stumble, lass! Just you watch your own feet!
Hooyah! A Cossack can't afford regrets! I'll spree and twirl for three straight days!
What a vagabond! It's written on his face!
Be free, my soul! Be free and roam freely, soul!
Roam and tread lightly, soul!
For the vodka's awful good!
Move aside, fellows!
Hey, let's fight bare-knuckle!
I'll pummel you, by God!
What a flashy display!
Phew, what a magnificent figure!
Just let some Tatar scum try and get in my way now!
He'll learn what a Cossack's sword is like!
Just look at that, people! The soul rejoices!
Now that's a real Dnieper Cossack!
Good drink, huh?
Go on, put down your cup!
Come on!
Watch how dancing's done!
You call that dancing?!
THIS is dancing!
May you choke, you worthless bum!
May a pot hit your father in the head!
May the devil burn off his whole beard in the next world!
Here's to the Cossack soul for the last time!
The songs are over. All is quiet.
God-fearing people are already asleep.
Only the new friends, having agreed not to part, were traveling together.
Do you know the Ukrainian night?
Oh! You do not know the Ukrainian night!
Look upon it: the crescent moon looks out from the centre of the sky;
the boundless dome of heaven unfolds, then unfolds yet more boundlessly.
All the earth is bathed in silver light.
The marvelous air is both refreshingly warm,
and full of languor, and stirs an ocean of fragrances.
But above, all is breathing; all is wondrous, triumphal.
And the soul is full of vastness and marvel,
and streams of silvery visions rise up harmoniously in its depths.
Divine night!
Enchanting night!
Once... though I, honestly, no longer know why,
they banished a demon from hell.
How... how, buddy...
How could a thing like that happen? A demon being banished from hell?
What can I say, buddy? They kicked him out, and that's that!
Like a man kicks out a dog from his hut!
Maybe a whim came over him to do some good deed,
and so... they showed him the door.
And the poor demon got so homesick...
...so homesick for hell, that he was ready to hang himself!
Well, what could he do? Drink his grief away!
And the demon became such a vagabond as you won't find anywhere!
From dawn to dusk, without fail, he'd sit in the pub!
Hey, neighbour, you look about to nod off.
I'll bet you're wishing now to be lying at home above your stove.
There's no reason to keep secrets from you.
Do you know
that my soul
was long ago sold to the devil?
As if that was unheard of!
Who hasn't dealt with the devil in his day?
That's why we party like there's no tomorrow, as the saying goes!
I'd party, but on this night...
...comes my fatal hour.
Oh, if you don't abandon me, if you don't sleep for but one night...
...never will I forget your friendship.
Why not help someone with such misfortune?
May I be struck down, if that's not a tavern I see.
And if Satan were to come?
Who's Satan? Spit in his face.
If he had the idea to appear this very minute and stand before me,
I'd be a son of a dog if I didn't sock him right in the nose.
Hooyah! A Cossack can't afford regrets!
I'll spree and twirl for three straight days!
Oh, if only the vodka were to last!
I'd get it if I were drunk. But no, I'm not drunk.
Honest to God, I'm not!
I'd sooner let the forelock be cut from my own head,
than let the devil sniff his dog's snout at a Christian soul!
Where now?
Some Hetman's messenger!
Great job of taking the letter to the Tsarina!
Hold him! Hold him!
Stop! Stop! Catch him!
You wily devil!
May you choke on a rotten melon!
May you die young, son of a dog!
I'll bet a new hat that those women were having a laugh at my expense.
Ha, little rascal! There you are!
Ha, little rascal!
There you a-are!
Ha, little rascal!
There you are!
Ha, little rascal!
There you are!
It's just the Evil One trying to spook me.
What a hideous face.
What a demonic place...
What a Satanic specter!
Why did some devil, misfortune fall on him, have to drink a shot of vodka in the morning and interfere.
Hooyah... a Cossack can't afford regrets...
On the opposite shore already?
Huh... only a demonic cabriolet might cross this.
Now THOSE are revolting faces.
At another time, God knows what I'd give to avoid this acquaintance.
But now, there's nothing for it. I have to get familiar.
God bless you, good people.
I'm at your mercy today.
Some say, that in this Christian world,
the Hetman's letter was stolen by a demon,
and since hell wasn't close, he swiped the horse, too.
Do me a favour, good people:
tell me, how would one, so to say, find his trail?
I'll give you money. All you want.
Oh, my. I've almost fallen into hell itself.
Don't pester me. Don't...
This isn't so terrible!
I guess demonic scum don't keep fasts.
What the devil!
What the blazes!
Sons of Herod's tribe, have you brought me here just to laugh at me?!
All right. We'll give you your hat.
But not before you play three games of "Fool" with us.
You want a Cossack to play "Fool" with women?!
I've got you now.
What would you have me do?
Listen closely:
If you win but once, the hat is yours.
But when you're left for a fool all three times,
don't blame anyone;
not only won't you see your hat, you may not ever see daylight again!
Deal already, you grouch.
What will happen will happen.
If I had but one lousy trump... instead of this junk I'm getting.
...
Fool! Fool! Fool!
May you burst asunder, devilish tribe!
You must've rigged the deck.
I'll be dealing myself this time.
I'll trump that!
I'll trump those kings, too!
All of them! Trumped! Trumped! Trumped!
Oh, hell!
This isn't very Cossack-like.
What're you trumping them with, neighbour?
What with? Trumps, of course!
Maybe for you these are trumps, but for us... nope!
What's this devilry?
Fool! Fool! Fool!
Fool!
Fool, fool, fool!
Cursed witch.
May you not live to see your children, wicked woman.
Trump!
Back off!
Hey... what're you trumping that with, you old devil?
Just look at that...
What's this, then?
Aha, obviously something's not right.
What demonic trickery!
...and what if I make a sign of the cross?
What a fool I was!
Here, have a king!
Cursed cat's offspring!
Wouldn't you like an ace?
Ace!
Jack!
Hooyah! A Cossack can't afford regrets...
Oh no, that's not enough!
If, right this minute, my fine horse isn't brought before me,
then may lightning strike me in this most unholy place,
if I do not make a sign of the cross over all of you!
Here is your horse!
Ah, I lament my friend's fate.
Then give me some other horse to escape from your nest!
Oh my God. Oh my God!
What the devil was that?
What the blazes? The strange things that can befall a man...
Hooyah! A Cossack can't afford regrets!
I'll spree and twirl for three straight days!
I've no time to fool around any more!
There, the Cossack saw such wonders,
that the stories lasted him for a very long time.
The End (English translation by Niffiwan)