The script for a theatrical performance based on the work of N.V. Gogol's "The Night Before Christmas"

Viy. Theater named after Pushkin. Press about the performance

Time for News, May 30, 2003

Alexander Sokolyansky

Who framed Khoma Brut?

Tickets for "Viya" at the Pushkin Theater are sold out until the end of the season

“My first thing is the Asian game; my second is the tavern poor; My language is Russian, and my nature is Khokhlatsky.” The charade is solved simply: “go” (Japanese tic-tac-toe) and “goal”. Director Nina Chusova personally staged “Viya” and filled the one-of-a-kind Russian “horror” with quotes from “Sorochinskaya Fair”, “May Night”, “Selected Places from Correspondence with Friends”, as well as references to the film Ptushko (1967), the play Nina Sadur “Pannochka” (1986), etc. She offers viewers a more complex charade. However, it would be unwise to reduce Chusova’s performance to popular game"Guess the allusion." Its fascination and its humor (the author's definition of the genre is “mystical farce”) have nothing in common with the amusements of wise men hatched in a postmodern incubator. One might even think that Chusova is deliberately throwing connoisseurs of all kinds of intertextuality their favorite dud: sit back and quietly remember what you got from where, and we’ll get down to business.

“Viy” is Nina Chusova’s second Gogol performance (the third, if you count the Athens remake of “The Overcoat”). Khoma Brut is played by her favorite artist Pavel Derevyanko: Bashmachkin in “The Overcoat”, Pickering in IMAGO. Age 26 years, height 170 cm, weight 60 kg, green eyes, hooligan appearance. Khoma, performed by Derevianko, is the complete opposite of the simple-minded guy Leonid Kuravlev - a young punk, a Khitronov in cross-section. If he is a student, then Khoma Brut studies in the school described by Pomyalovsky, not by Gogol - but generally speaking, it doesn’t matter what he is and whether he really came from Kyiv. It is important that he was caught like chickens in a pluck and will not escape from the dead lady (Victoria Isakova) and her terrible, odd-eyed parent (Bulgakov’s Woland! - No, “The Khazar Dictionary”! - the wise guys interject). It is important that in the branch of the Theater. Pushkin (102 seats), people will have a lot of fun and really be scared.

To be a little scared, remembering that they are scaring you for real, is nothing sweeter. If you have forgotten about this yourself, check with any child.

Nina Chusova's main talent is her ability to disinhibit simple, “childish” emotions. Her direction is distinguished by an unusually high coefficient useful action, the effectiveness of simple (at least technically simple) solutions. Khoma Brutus, who is very weak and has become a coward, is locked in the church: he looks around. There are no icons, no utensils in sight - bare, cracked walls (behind them there is no longer a farm, but a black void and a bad commotion: probably there is hell there), there is a spit of dim light on the floor. Suddenly, in the right corner, a piece of plank wall begins to rotate like a folding shelf. There Pannochka lies with her head towards us: her body is half here, in the church, and half in the “black velvet of the universal emptiness.” It would seem much simpler, but impressive: low bow to the artist Viktor Platonov.

Khoma, as befits a spanish child, begins to swagger: what do I care about the dead, but I finally know such prayers, they all lie in my hands, I’ll be a bastard!.. It’s very possible that Derevianko doesn’t say anything like that, but he intones so precisely that street verbal rubbish naturally crawls into his ears: this fellow Khoma, of course, cannot connect two words without “at last” and “in kind.” He frantically remembers some homespun spell, spins around, spits, lights candles: he sticks one on the stand, another on the table, the third on the bench, calms down, puts on his glasses, begins to read in a thin, slightly squealing voice: “Rest in peace with the spirits of the righteous... - and then a light flashes above Pannochka, very bright, very cold. It can be seen: the bare leg is slightly raised, the toes are unnaturally spread. Victoria Isakova sits down, slowly stretches, admires Khoma: her eyes are very cheerful (crazy? lascivious? mermaid?). Quietly, Onechko begins to descend towards him and with each step extinguishes one of the candles with her bare foot. The audience hardly breathes: it is funny, creepy, and truly “smells of sulfur” - much more than all the demonic pantomimes composed for the cinematic Pannochka, Natalya Varley. So that no one doubts, in the next, “morning” scene, the style of the film will be charmingly and mercilessly parodied. The mischievous Cossacks will treat Khoma to a whole performance on the theme of “evil spirits in the old-fashioned way,” and when Viy appears - a sort of shaggy stump, every now and then falling to one side - the audience will groan with laughter and knock the floor with two hundred and four feet. And look forward to the next terrible night.

The ease with which Nina Chusova controls the audience's feelings allows one to suspect her of dry prudence and unpleasant directorial pragmatism. Netushka: the actors unanimously speak about Chusova’s passion and spontaneity. “She’s an eccentric charger. It’s like she has a circus in her head, like circus acts” - Vladimir Simonov (Higgins in IMAGO). “She is a very risky director, reckless in in a good way words" - Chulpan Khamatova (Andria in "Mamapapasyndog"). Absolute passion for the game is rarely combined with the ability to rigidly construct a drawing and calculate the reaction, but it is still connected. It was endowed, for example, with the best of Soviet animators: Kotenochkin, Norshtein, Khrzhanovsky. In Chusova’s stage works there is, relatively speaking, some kind of “cartoonishness”: clarity of lines, expressive simplicity of feelings, a sincere, again “childish” readiness to believe in any “as if”, the ability to combine the living and the conventional with the confidence with which Zemeckis did this in the glorious film “Who Framed Roger Rabbit?” This is a wonderful property. I think that it is precisely this that gives Chusova the ability to so unmistakably evoke laughter, fear and tears in the audience. If anyone declares that “they don’t cry in cartoons,” let him remember the brilliant “Mitten,” which Roman Kachanov made in the same year as “Viy” by Ptushko, and wipe it off. And then he’ll go to see Chusovoy’s “Viy” when he can get tickets - I’m afraid, however, that it won’t be easy to do this before the start of the next season.

Izvestia, May 31, 2003

Marina Davydova

Lift her eyelids

At the Pushkin Theater Nina Chusova staged "Viya"

It is a rare young director who has not yet reached the tiny stage of the branch of the Theater named after. Pushkin. The rare talent was not noticed and welcomed by Pushkinsky's chief director, Roman Kozak. Immediately following his theatrical inauguration, he promised to make this very branch a springboard for those who showed promise and those who lived up to their expectations. And did. Now, within the already lived-in walls of the small stage, the seriously gifted Nina Chusova has appeared. In my opinion, this is the place for her.

Chusova knows how to turn everything she touches into theater. Any author in her skillful hands reveals an amazing stage presence. Any plot twist becomes an impetus for inspired acting improvisations. There are theatrical metamorphoses main plot of all her performances, theatrical pranks are the main way of existence for the characters. Artists should adore Nina Chusova. She doesn’t crush them with concepts and doesn’t burden them with clever words- she liberates them; and sometimes they do such funny things, laugh so much, frolic and make jokes that you can take away all the saints. Here the devil himself ordered to put on “Viya”!

Chusova had already dealt with Gogol. Her debut performance at RAMT - solid, witty, with delicately developed roles - was called "The Overcoat". Gogol’s sublimely pitiful story was transposed by the director into childhood and therefore acquired a very poignant connotation - his colleagues bullied Akaki Akakievich like schoolchildren of a timid and downtrodden classmate. Starting with "The Overcoat" a specific childishness is transformed either into popular print ("Hero" according to Sing in the same RAMT), then into a stylish, designer grotesque ("Imago"), then into a completely delightful burlesque ("Twelfth Night"), then in general into some talentedly aestheticized ABVGDeyka (“Mamapapasondog” in Sovremennik), became distinctive feature of all Chusov's works.

And “Viy” with its folkloric, and therefore also in its own way, childish devilry is just some kind of gift for Chusova. This is not just her material, it is too much her material, and too much is always dangerous.

Chusova first decides the Mirgorod horror story about a student who is afraid of evil spirits and is therefore destroyed by it as a parody and not at all scary thriller. The domain of Sotnik (Andrey Zavodyuk), who is also the witcher’s father, looks like a sleepy kingdom with a clearly infernal touch. Sotnikov's servants play lotto, lazily beat flies, yawn, and tell each other horror stories and sometimes she herself becomes Satan before our eyes. A centurion - certainly a witcher - with a glassy gaze and an eyesore. It is he who pronounces the sacramental phrase “Lift my eyelids,” and in the very first scene, immediately putting everything in its place. In this situation, evil spirits as such, so thoroughly and inventively described by Gogol, are simply not present in the play. Evil spirits are not in the underworld, but here on earth - in each of us. And here in this sleepy and unclean kingdom arrives Khoma Brut, performed by Nina Chusova’s (and at the same time me) beloved Pavel Derevianko. His Khoma is a hybrid of Khlestakov and Akaki Akakievich, whom Derevianko, in fact, played in “The Overcoat.” A kind of small, sinful and essentially empty person, who at first tried to act upright, but was quickly subdued by the centurion’s servants.

As usual, the hell Chusov built on earth turns out to be very childish. As soon as the Sotnik disappears from sight, the formidable servants begin to drink, go on carousing, fool around amusingly, scare the stranger by playing Viy and act out the scene of the seduction and killing of the huntsman Mikita by the lady in the manner of traveling performers - like those who perform “The Murder of Gonzago” in Hamlet. The lady, also a cheerful and charming girl (Victoria Isakova), does not lag behind the courtyard people. She rises from the dead to the sounds of some magical music, like a fairy from a cartoon, and immediately starts playing tricks with the stunned Khoma, awakening in him a completely unearthly love. Together with the daring deceased, they will beautifully fly through the sky, beautifully tremble in sexual ecstasy and beautifully get tangled in the depths of the stage in a beautiful web (aka the snares of passion).

You watch it all in one go, until you start to think about the meaning of what is happening and try to tie up loose ends. To begin with, in Chusova’s staging, the plot motivations disappear: before her death, Khoma, neither in the guise of an old woman nor in any other guise, had ever known or seen her, and why the evil spirits chose him is somehow not very It's clear. Why, during the third (last) meeting with the dead thing, Khoma suddenly experiences an unexpected enlightenment is not at all clear. The transformation of the hero from half-Khlestakov into a wise ascetic who overcame the temptation of evil spirits and learned the meaning of existence looks inorganic and completely unprepared by the previous course of events. To be honest, I also didn’t fully grasp what exactly the meaning of existence is.

As soon as the playful element leaves Viy and pathos appears, as soon as the terribly cheerful horror becomes terrible pathos, the performance loses all its charm. For metamorphoses of a comedic sense are one thing (in this regard Chusova has no equal today), and metamorphoses of a higher spiritual order are another. Chusova knows how to feel the theater with her liver, spleen, and her entire body (and this is a rare, not to say unique, gift), but she still does not always manage to understand it with her head. It seems that she lacks not scenic, but some kind of human, spiritual experience. Her brilliant talent has not yet found depth. The eyelids have already lifted, but the pupils have not yet opened.

Vedomosti, June 2, 2003

Victoria Nikiforova

Night of the Living Dead

At the Theater. Pushkin released "Viy" directed by Nina Chusova

Nina Chusova rewrote Gogol's story, turning it into a scenario for a fashionable youth horror film. The entire first half, which tells the story of how, to his misfortune, Khoma Brut met the witch lady, went to hell. The action begins energetically, like in some kind of “Scream”: a student of the Faculty of Philosophy ends up in a remote village.

It is not known why he should read the funeral service for the daughter of the old centurion, who died under unclear circumstances. Naturally, the dead woman comes to life and a disastrous plot begins with the participation of zombies, vampires with blue faces and other inhabitants of the underworld.

"Viy" is a branded horror film, the most scary story Russian prose. It would be nice to turn him into our worthy answer to Freddy Krueger. A hard-working Chusova could put the plot on stream and delight us with a sequel every season - “Viy-2”, “Viy-3” and further down the list. Unfortunately, it didn't work out. Everything is good in this “Viye” - the lively rhythm, jokes, jokes, the sad eyes of Pavel Derevianko in the role of Brutus - but it’s not scary for a second. Impressive spectators do not squeal, theater critics do not tremble - they just laugh.

The mystical horror that permeates Viy enters the clinch with the director's cheerful style. Whatever Chusova puts on, she produces a comedy, and this performance is no exception. Creepy stories about how the lady destroyed the simple-minded Cossacks, her heroes act out in stupid amateur performances. The immortal “Lift my eyelids!” turns into a hilarious reprise: two zombie Cossacks bring onto the stage a small creature in a sheepskin coat and a huge cap that slides over his eyes.

Chusova could follow this path to the end and turn Gogol’s story into a black comedy, a Little Russian grand guignol. But at some point she remembers that she is directing a thriller and begins to scare us. True, she has much fewer special effects at her disposal than the authors of A Nightmare on Elm Street. All the means of intimidation in “Vie” are mournful music selected by Vladimir Pankov, the thin voice of Derevianko exclaiming “Cold! Scary!”, and a blue spotlight that deftly spins and blinks frequently, as if the electrical wiring in the theater had gone bad.

In addition, the audience, who had just died of laughter watching how fat Khveska (Natalya Skorogodova) pretended to be a fatal beauty, could not quickly readjust and giggle at the most terrible moments. And when the reviving lady begins to wiggle her toes in the coffin, the audience simply hiccups with laughter. Therefore, the howls of Derevianko, who sincerely pity his philosopher, sound somehow unnatural: it is clear that this sweet deceased woman (Victoria Isakova) will not do anything bad to him.

It was probably in vain that Chusova threw out the opening sequence “Viya” from the play. In Gogol, everything is clear: the witch, killed by Brutus, wants to take revenge on him. What Chusovaya’s lady wants, no one knows - neither God nor Viy. Either she plays with the poor philosopher like a cat and a mouse, then she demands love from him, then she begins to perform some magical passes in the manner of Don Juan. Chusova inserted pieces from Gogol’s other stories into her dramatization: excerpts from “May Night” and “Terrible Revenge” flash in the dramatization, like corpses in the Dnieper. But she lost the most important thing - the motivation of the characters. All that remains is a completely Hollywood technique, worthy of a third-rate horror film - the good-natured Cossacks in the night scenes for some reason turn into vampires and intimidate poor Khoma until he loses consciousness.

In general, horror fans can stay home. You won't be able to die of fear on Viya. But you can have a lot of fun.

Kommersant, June 3, 2003

Optimistic thriller

"Viy" N.V. Gogol, staged by Nina Chusova

The premiere of the play "Viy" was performed on the stage of the branch of the Pushkin Theater. The theater's artistic director, Roman Kozak, was not mistaken in providing the young but already successful director Nina Chusova with an experimental platform. According to MARINA SHIMADINA, the new performance looks not so much like a finished product, but like genre tests.

Nina Chusova's performances are always a holiday. Whether it’s the boring Ibsen or the joker Bernard Shaw, the Irishman John Millington Synge or our dear Nikolai Vasilyevich Gogol, in Nina Chusova’s adaptation they all come out as brave fellows and magicians, every now and then pulling out some funny little trick from under the covers. amusement for the public. Going to a performance whose poster includes the name of a student of Leonid Kheifetz ("Hedda Gabler" in "Satyricon", "Overcoat" and "Hero" in RAMT, "Mamapapasyndog" in "Contemporary"), you rub your hands in advance in anticipation of an appetizing and masterfully twisted show and get ready to laugh for two hours.

But Nina Chusova declares that she is tired of making people laugh as much as possible, and in the end, she is releasing Viya, a mystical farce based on the works of N.V. Gogol, at the branch of the Pushkin Theater. Judging by this definition, the recipe for the new performance has remained the same - a farcical, even circus-like re-laughing and re-enactment of textbook situations, both realistic and fantastic. And for the first forty minutes the production really sounds in this vein.

Colorful Cossacks, lounging on a shaggy gray carpet, play lotto and relishly beat annoying flies on themselves. A complete feeling of a hot and stuffy lazy Ukrainian afternoon, when it’s hard to raise your head and your tongue can hardly move. But then, from a crack in the plank fence that surrounds the entire stage along the perimeter, wriggling forward, not a man, not a boy, not a Cossack, but the devil knows what it is: a slender creature in some kind of shabby clothes and a long long leg tangled in his legs. in a tattered scarf - the philosopher Khoma Brut and the walking mascot of Nina Chusova, Pavel Derevianko. It was he who had the privilege of reading for three nights in church for the repose of the soul of the deceased Pannochka. However, there is no church. It’s just that a row of boards in the fence folds back, and on them in a cold glow lies Pannochka, not at all scary - not an infernal fatal beauty, like in the film Ptushko, and not a green corpse chattering with teeth, like Gogol’s. Victoria Isakova is a cheerful and crafty witch, with the clumsy plasticity of a teenager, splayed toes and lovely expressive facial expressions. It is no wonder that Brut-Derevianko is not very afraid of her and even agrees to “play” with the guest from the other world. Their first night is generally like a child’s game of little lady, when all the fears are make-believe. And Derevianko leads his party like a teenager swaggering and flaunting his courage: “What do I care about the dead, now I’ll read such prayers that you will all lie down with me!” In the next, “daytime part,” the laughter show continues: the Cossacks act out in front of Khoma theatrical scene on the topic “How the Cossack Mikolka died” and try to scare him by pretending to be evil spirits led by “viy” - a hilarious little guy in a bunny hat with earflaps and a sheepskin coat inside out.

At this point, the festive in spirit, amusing, “wrong side”, farcical element of the play in the play unexpectedly ends. The second night of Khoma Brut turns out to be truly scary. Enmeshed in Pannochka's witchcraft, he swears his love to her, hugs her, kisses her “little hands and feet,” and then falls unconscious, struck down in a love match. Illuminated by an otherworldly violet light, they perform some kind of hypnotic dance and slowly, very slowly go into the open gates of what is probably hell. There, in the darkness, hang picturesque pieces of cobwebs, in which otherworldly doubles of the Cossacks already familiar to us begin to wrap Khoma and Pannochka. For the sake of this one scene that sends shivers down the spine, by golly, it’s worth watching the entire performance. After the excursion to the next world, Khoma is barely pumped out. Everything happens as if in slow motion, the mouths of the Cossacks, heart-rendingly screaming something, silently open, and only when Khoma is dipped into a barrel of water, the people’s movements acquire normal speed, and the stage is filled with the terrible hubbub of the saviors.

Nina Chusova still has five points. Having adopted cinematic suspense techniques, she could well have directed a real horror film. But, apparently, the laurels of theatrical Hitchcock did not seduce the director. In the third, most terrible night, when all sorts of evil spirits and Viy himself were supposed to appear in the church, the director deceived the audience who were prepared to be afraid. She probably decided to stage the final part of the performance in the spirit of the late religious Gogol. But Khoma and Pannochka’s conversations about the devil and the divine impressed the audience much less than their previous theatrical exercises. And when Khoma-Derevianko simply went and lay down on his deathbed on his own instead of Pannochka without the help of evil spirits, the audience in confusion did not dare to clap, not understanding whether this was the end or what.

Gogol’s spiritual prose is still not “Mirgorod”, or even “Petersburg Tales”. And, probably, to find a theatrical equivalent for her, you need more life experience and a different directorial temperament than Nina Chusova. And so, the performance, left without a clear ending, hung between a farce and a thriller. And leaving the theater, the satisfied audience still didn’t understand whether they wanted to make them laugh or scare them.

Newspaper, June 3, 2003

Arthur Solomonov

What dead person doesn't like to play?

On the stage of the branch of the Pushkin Theater, Nina Chusova, who is called fashionable and will soon, it seems, begin to be called cult, released the premiere based on Nikolai Gogol’s story “Viy”. The theater's artistic director, Roman Kozak, continues to carry out the planned program: a large stage for the general public, a branch stage for lovers of theatrical experimentation.

"What do you want from me?" - Khoma Brut asks the deceased woman. “Play,” Pannochka answers. What dead person doesn't love a great game? And the viewer loves her and gets great fun. The audience will laugh tirelessly. Even when Nina Chusova, as if having come to her senses, whips up mysticism and pathos, you won’t be able to stop the viewer from laughing.

The play flies from episode to episode: here comes the unlucky womanizer and drunkard Khoma Brut, he didn’t know any Pannochka before, he didn’t have the slightest connection to her death, and why she chose him - God knows. Although, there is no smell of either God or the devil in Chusova’s performance.

Anyone who wants to be scared or to refresh their memory of Gogol's text should not try to buy a ticket to the Pushkin Theater. This performance is for those who love theatrical drive, who are ready to “play” “Viya” together with Pannochka (Victoria Isakova). For those who are ready to accept, say, this scene: night, Khoma (Pavel Derevianko) enters the church, drunk, and asks: “Where is the dead man?” And then - a blue light, the naked feet of the deceased begin to move, and she, getting up from the coffin, extinguishes candle after candle with her bare foot and in the gathering darkness begins to play with Khoma...

Or this: the men bring out some funny creature in furs, calling it “viy”. The creature turns out to be a Cossack and asks to lift her eyelids. The viewer laughs, Khoma laughs, Viy laughs.

Make a cabbage out of Viya. Blasphemy! Well, good. Nina Chusova once made a comic book on the topic of parricide from the play “Hero” at RAMT. After all, you can always use the words “intertextuality” and “postmodernism” as a shield. And similar indecent expressions. Moreover, “Viy” is an excellent performance. And more significant than just a skit.

As expected, Gogol’s text becomes only a starting point. And the performance flies from this launch pad, wherever the director pleases, simultaneously “landing” on other texts by Gogol. Here the phrase flashed “is this still yours, lovely Solokha?”, here the little man makes passes with his hands, as if running them along glass, and we remember the film with Natalya Varleya...

It's all fun, and because it's done with talent, the viewer laughs. Although an ironic excursion into other texts was not Chusova’s goal.

As, indeed, what Meyerhold set as his task was to give not just one text of Gogol, but the whole of Gogol. Chusova, of course, does not want this, but gives, as it were, fragments of her encounters with what is connected with Gogol - words, images, film quotes.

However: if the driving force of the performance is irony, what is it aimed at? The game takes place as if in zero gravity. Where there are no laws of gravity, any somersaults cease to amaze. The boundaries that Nina Chusova and the audience with her transgress are not felt. To put it simply, there seems to be no difference between the living and the dead world. Either everything is dead, or everything is alive.

Therefore, the game, undoubtedly talented, is doomed to become pointless. I remember that in “Hero” (which was just as exciting to watch, and there was never a dull moment) there was also no sense of dividing line - in in this case moral. It’s as if Raskolnikov killed the old woman, and the next morning he began to calmly drink tea. And not so that the world does not stand still, but just like that, without any second thought. In theatrical terms, such a lack of a value vertical meant: you can fly in all directions, have fun and swagger. But there was a dream of some kind of law - theatrical, moral, whatever - which one could overcome with pleasure. And the energy to overcome it, perhaps, would create some kind of aesthetic explosion.

In the meantime, you can just frolic, not letting you feel the difference between the living and the dead, clumsily throwing the audience from funny to scary.

Easy steps to minefield. The steps are really light, but the fact that the field is a mine was not felt either in “Hero” or in “Viya”. It was simply a stunning theatrical celebration.

Results, June 10, 2003

Marina Zayonts.
Photo by Alexander Ivanishin

Ukrainian night is scary

Director Nina Chusova staged on the stage of the branch of the Theater. Pushkin's "Viya" is a mystical farce based on the works of Gogol. The classic horror movie is hilariously funny and really scary

Nina Chusova broke all productivity records this season - four premieres in Moscow ("Imago", "Mamapapasyndog", "Twelfth Night", "Viy") and one in Greece ("The Overcoat"). She won’t stop there, that’s clear as day. A powerful wave of some completely wild inspiration throws her from one title to another, excites her already uninhibited imagination, allows her to juggle genres and change theaters like gloves. This time she showed up at the branch of the Theater. Pushkin, having composed a kind of mystical farce based on Gogol’s Viy, funny and scary at the same time.

However, there are no special effects in this funny theatrical “horror” film, they don’t scare you with anything creepy, just dead people, witches and witchers with different eyes walk across the stage (of course, Bulgakov’s Woland comes to mind immediately), they invite good people to come and look bad. And the heart skips a beat sweetly, just like in childhood. Here, in addition to the dead Pannochka (Victoria Isakova), seducing Khoma Brut with her bare foot, there is obvious evil spirits and her father, Sotnik (Andrey Zavodyuk), who began his role with sacramental famous phrase: "Lift my eyelids." Another, hilariously funny Viy will then be shown by the frolicking Cossacks, frightening the pretty cowardly Khoma - some furry little bun will roll out, every now and then falling to one side, and demand the same: lift my eyelids, am I Viy or not Viy, after all? . In a word, how terribly funny.

Nina Chusova made the script herself, composing it from “Viy”, “May Night”, “Sorochinskaya Fair” and, oddly enough, “Selected Places from Correspondence with Friends”. She deprived the story of Khoma Brut of any realistic justification, why exactly he was called to read prayers over the dead Pannochka, for what offenses he was deprived of his life - it is not completely clear and should not be clear. Chusova appreciates theater play, false ideas and fantastic transformations. She does not like realism, literalism and everyday verisimilitude and expels them from the stage in all possible ways, of which she has a great many. In the case of Viy, this is mysticism. It wouldn’t occur to anyone to wonder why the hell Freddy Krueger did his outrages to people, and here it is – a witch is a witch to do harm.

Khoma Brut is played by a wonderful actor, Chusova’s favorite, her faithful companion and talisman Pavel Derevianko. It is he who must take and, without any explanation, switch the audience, just laughing cheerfully, to a sad awareness of the frailty of life. So, this frail, fidgety half-educated philosopher swaggered: they say, I haven’t seen your corpses, now I’ll read such prayers, you’ll disappear at once, and when I realized that I couldn’t be saved, I stopped bullying and stopped joking. He went and lay down on his deathbed, which was thrown back from the plank fence, and went on his own, without any evil spirits. To die, to die with dignity, is our way, Gogol’s way.

Nina Chusova was once an artist herself, worked in the provinces, played heroines in wigs and braids, cried a lot and suffered under the guidance of directors. Having suffered to her heart's content, she now knows how important it is to liberate an actor, to free his energy and natural talent from cliches and unnecessary speculation. In all her performances, the artists enjoy the game, play with excitement and fun, infecting the audience with their enthusiasm. Chusova likes when people laugh, she likes to bring them joy. Therefore, critics, without thinking twice, wrote her down as a master of comedy, but she seemed tired of making people laugh. She has reached heights in this genre and seems to have no rivals. Apparently, it's time for a sharp turn.

Culture, June 12, 2003

Irina Alpatova

Eyelids up!

"Viy" directed by Nina Chusova at the Pushkin Theater

Although the creative path of the young director Nina Chusova is not yet so long, everyone has already noticed that the further she goes, the more well-trodden it becomes. With his favorite eccentrically parodic key, Chusov can “open” any work, no matter what genre, according to the author’s intention, it belongs to. Her performances are as light as balloons, both in performance and in perception. And the action simply bursts with stunts, gags, reprises, clowning and other entertaining elements. But gradually a feeling of predictability began to creep into the perception of Chusovsky’s performances. If a dozen reviews contain the phrase “Nina Chusova, as always...”, perhaps this is an alarming note.

And either consciously or spontaneously, in her latest performance “Viy” based on Gogol’s story, staged at the branch of the Pushkin Theater, Chusova tried, if not to break, then to shake the framework of her own stereotypes. And although genre definition The action and the stage version, which she herself carried out, are quite traditional - a mystical farce, but the viewer is offered a whole kaleidoscope of possible emotional reactions. Perhaps this slightly affected the integrity of the impression that, really, not such a big sin.

Chusova, it seems, was interested not so much in the famous Gogol horror story as in Gogol's world as such. An opportunity to play with his characters, themes, textbook quotes, and even touch on the religious thoughts of the author of “Viy” in this game, sharing them with Khoma Brut. Khoma (Chusova’s constant companion, RAMT actor Pavel Derevyanko) is at first a completely wild little guy, not believing in God or a damn thing, and not afraid of them. Towards the end, having gone through all sorts of funny and creepy temptations, he will reach out to the Highest, stop playing around, remember the light and try to show the firmness of his faith. It's just too late. And then he himself will voluntarily lie down in an improvised coffin in Pannochka’s place, thereby separating himself from the “dark kingdom” of all undead nestled on Mother Earth.

But the most amazing thing is how Chusova managed to mix and combine this very mysticism and reality in her mystical farce. Of course, conventionally theatrical, gaming. But we, the audience, understand this. And what about poor Khoma-Derevyanko? The devil himself won't know where he ended up. It seems that the Cossacks are like Cossacks, albeit in ridiculous black overalls (costumes by Evgenia Panfilova). They were sore in the heat, they sat, played bingo, crunched cucumbers, and fought off flies. The centurion (Andrey Zavodyuk), turning away from everyone, wails bitterly deceased daughter. Once, he turned around - but his eyes were empty, and he himself was surprised: “Is there something wrong with my eyelids, Cossacks?” You'll want to laugh.

And the game is deadly. Either there are people around, or non-humans. However, Khome and Derevianko don’t care so far. He's such a specific guy, he'll tell you off for whatever you want for a handful of coins. The light dimmed - there was no shed with cracked walls, it instantly turned into a chapel (scenic design by Viktor Platonov). Having taken a sip of vodka for courage, Khoma asks: “Where is the dead man?” He set out the candles, muttered a prayer, and everything was done in order. And take the wall and tip over, and on it is dead Pannochka (Victoria Isakova), head down, bare feet up. “I already love you, beauty,” Khoma says, acting like a fool. And the girl spread her toes and rebelled. Quietly, silently, like a cat, he sneaks up to Khoma, extinguishing the candles with his feet. He froze, and she said, “I want to play.” And it fascinates, enchants - now they “fly”, hugging each other. The rooster crowed and Khoma fell. The night is over.

The game is not over. A creature in a sheepskin coat and a hat with earflaps stuck its head into the hole, crawling on all fours, and then: “Lift my eyelids.” That's it Viy! And around yesterday's boys, like dead men, blindly circle. "What are you, Cossacks?" – Khoma giggles, but they don’t seem to hear. I just decided to get scared again, they would start laughing. And then another performance was put on in the spirit of a fair booth, and on a “ready mov” - about the huntsman Mikitka, who was ruined by the insidious Pannochka. It's absolutely hilarious. And Sotnik-Zavodyuk suddenly, out of the blue, “Wonderful is the Dnieper in calm weather...” with an expression. It's funny... But why are they forcing Khoma back into the chapel with fists and kicks? It seemed that love had surged within him, but somehow he felt uneasy.

At night, another wall opened - into the other world. Pannochka pulled Khoma there, entwined her with a web under the unseeing gaze of the frozen “Cossacks” there. Khoma was even more frightened, so much so that he had to take a shower in the morning. And still the same cry: “Are you Cossacks?” – now it sounded mixed with fear and tears. And then day and night completely mixed up. One Khoma has lively eyes, the others are complete eyesores. There's nothing left to hide. Unlucky guy...

Unlike the audience. And accusations of eclecticism probably won’t bother Nina Chusova. Although the performance was, apparently, done in a hurry, the director’s track has lost its skill.

Novaya Gazeta, June 20, 2003

Elena Dyakova

Three nights of Khoma and Pannochka

N.V. Gogol “Viy”. Theater named after A.S. Pushkin, director - Nina Chusova

Branch of the Theater named after. A.S. Pushkin “in the era of Roman Kozak” is clearly becoming a notable laboratory for young directors. Following the Roshchin and Kazantsev Center for Drama and Directing, following the Meyerhold Center Small stage in Sytinsky Lane is collecting its collection of new names and successful premieres.

“Viy” is a play about complete death in earnest. About soul-shaking feelings that arose in places where you didn’t seem to put your soul! What, did the Heavenly Office save on this human husk, making do with the commandments of commercials or the fussy agility of small farm benefits and joys? No matter how it is...

In the play “Viy” this is shown and proven by a duet of young actors...

The courtyard of the inconsolable Sotnik, who has lost his daughter Pannochka, is stuffy, closed, tightly lined with painted, bluish-blue boards. Hot. Languid. The delightful Little Russian summer drives the average person into a sleepy stupor, into Homeric laziness, into the stupor of a healthy animal sleep. (This sleepy stupor of everyone and everything is, perhaps, the most terrible hypostasis of Gogol’s horror: it is curious that the domestic reader noticed and realized it later than other hypostases, almost at the end of the 1990s. But for Chusova’s performance it is important.)

It smells like kvass, lard, bath fumes, fumes, and the shy freshness of lightly salted cucumber. Cossacks Spirid, Dorosh, Yavtukh and the cook Khveska sleep freely on fresh hay. Half-naked, strong, young bodies turn white in the holes of black underwear. The hall is so small, the stage is so close, that the shoulders, elbows, and heels of the actors seem especially corporeal, filled with an almost threatening carnal strength.

The Cossacks alternately woo and then woo Khveska. The hveska casually clings to the owner, the Sotnik. All this is a matter of everyday life. It is as senselessly natural, unstoppable, as the growth of a sunflower in drunken, warm, steamed earth. Human juices ferment here like mash in a vat, according to the laws of organic chemistry.

But through a gap in the fence, the Philosopher Khoma Brut (Pavel Derevianko) climbs into this paradise. At the very least, he “knows how to read and write.” This is what will destroy him.

The philosopher Khoma will easily find a common language with the strong, half-naked Cossacks. But, alas, he himself is dressed. Even wrapped up - in bluish canvas pants, in a loose linen robe of shy, washed-out blue. The voice is slightly nasal, lisping, trying to overcome the provincial simplicity with the metropolitan sprightliness acquired over the past two years. He’s not a fool, and he went to the baker’s for a drink or a snack on Holy Thursday. And their round eyes dart around the Sotnik’s yard, wondering how much will break off here.

Such a student could wander onto the stage in Sytinsky and from the nearby McDonald's: out of puppyish simplicity and childish arrogance, he mistook the door.

And Pannochka (Victoria Isakova) matches him. Small, funny, slightly cutesy, tenacious, naively impudent - having risen from the coffin, she uncontrollably wants to play. Play with the boy in seduction, in a fatal whim, in fleeting glances, in sharp laughter, languidly bowing his head to his shoulder...

And he is perplexed and childishly does not understand: why is it not possible?

The stage composition “Viya” was performed by Nina Chusova herself. Quotes from “Viy”, “May Night”, “The Missing Letter”, “Terrible Revenge” are stitched by the director onto the living thread of a rather conventional text.

The real score of the performance is created by the performance of Khoma and Pannochka, alone in the bluish flickering of the stage with black gaps in the corners. It is not hell that shines through the black gaps in the walls. And the element of spirit, with which Khveska and the cheerful Cossacks Spirid, Dorosh and Yavtukh have no connection. But Pannochka and Khoma, dead and alive, knew something beyond the reliable simplicity of instinct...

By the third night in the church, shocked by pity, already in love, Khoma forgets the mockery, the apprehension, the estimate. “Putting aside every concern of everyday life,” he now takes everything seriously to the point of absurdity! And the fidgety girl in white, an ordinary witch-pretentious, with a reasonable attitude to life, not much different from Khveska, is now formidable to him, like regiments with banners.

And the letters of Scripture were filled with blood. And a black gap opened. AND...

Is a witch dangerous? Only if you manage to avert your eyes so much that you take her seriously. And - you are in a net, captured by something that has no name, measure, flesh...

And if it weren’t for this sacred fear, the mountain chill, the draft of ether, which so fatally permeated the well-fed, sultry, sleepy haze of the farm, “then the witch could not do anything with it. You just need to cross yourself and spit on her very tail, and nothing will happen. I already know all this. After all, in Kyiv, all the women who sit at the market are all witches.”

Dramatization of the story by N.V. Gogol's "Viy"

The music of Sibelius is playing. Voice on the radio: “Viy is a colossal creation of the common people’s imagination. This name is used by the Little Russians to call the chief of the gnomes, whose eyelids go all the way to the ground. This whole story is folk legend. I didn’t want to change it in any way and I tell it almost in the same simplicity as I heard it. Nikolai Vasilyevich Gogol". The stage is filled with people dressed in Ukrainian costumes. Everyone is selling and buying something. In a word - fair.

1 picture. " Way home"

Khoma: What the hell! It seemed to me absolutely as if there would be a farmstead now.

Freebie: By God! There's not a damn fist in sight.

Khoma: Where is the road?

Hal.: Yes, the night is dark.

(on their knees they look for the way, a groan similar to a wolf’s howl is heard)

Khoma: See, what to do here?

Hal. : And what? Stay and spend the night in the field!

Khoma: No, Freebie, you can’t, how can you, without supporting yourself with anything, stretch out and lie down like that,

How's the dog? Let's try again, maybe we'll come across some housing, and at least we'll be able to drink a glass of burner at night.

Hal. : Of course, there is no point in staying in the field. (go further)

Khoma: Farm! By God, a farm!

Hal. : Look, brothers, don’t lag behind! Whatever it is, get a place to stay for the night.

2 picture. "Old Woman"

Everyone: Open it!

Star. : Who's there?

Hal. : Let me in, grandma, to spend the night. Lost our way. It’s so bad in the field, like in a hungry belly.

Star. : What kind of people are you?

Gorob. : Yes, the people are not touchy - the theologian Freebie, the philosopher Brutus and the rhetorician Tiberius Gorobets.

Star. : It’s impossible, my yard is full of people, and all the corners in the house are occupied. Where will I take you? And what a tall and healthy people they all are! Yes, my house will fall apart when I put these in. I know these philosophers and theologians. If you start accepting such drunkards, then soon there will be no courtyard. Went! There's no place for you here.

Khoma: Have mercy, grandma! How is it possible for Christian souls disappeared for nothing, for nothing? Wherever you want to place us. And if we do something, somehow this, or some other thing, then let our hands wither, and it will be that God alone knows, that’s what!

Star. : Okay, I'll let you in. I'll just put everyone in different places. Otherwise my heart will not be at peace when you lie together.

All: It's your will. Let's not argue.

Khoma: And what, grandma, if it were like they say... by God, in my stomach it’s as if someone began to ride on wheels. From the very morning I wish I had a sliver of wood in my mouth.

Star. : Look what you wanted! I don’t have anything like that, and the stove wasn’t lit today.

Khoma: And we would have paid for all this tomorrow properly - clean money. Yes, there's no way you'll get anything.

Star. : Go, go! And be happy with what they give you. What the devil brought some gentle panics! (To Rhetor) You should sleep in the hut, (Hal.) You will go to the closet, (to Home) I will put you in the sheep stable.

(Khoma steals the onion, dried fish, shares with friends. Everyone goes to bed)

3 painting “Flight”

(the door opened and the Old Woman entered)

Khoma: What, grandma, what do you want? (old man goes to Khoma) Hey-hey! No, my dear! Outdated! Listen, grandma! Now it’s Lent, and I’m the kind of person who wouldn’t want to be insulted even for a thousand gold coins. Grandma! What you? Go, go with God! “Hey, it’s a witch” (flies) “What is this? Good!”

(Khoma jumps on his back)

Star. : Oh, I can’t take it anymore! (falls to the ground)

(we see a young girl instead of an Old Woman)

4 painting “Tavern”

Cook. : We heard that the daughter of a rich centurion returned from a walk yesterday, all beaten up, she barely got there, poor, and now she’s dying.

Cook. : And before the hour of death, she expressed a desire that one of the Kyiv seminarians, Khoma Brut, read the funeral service and prayers for her for three days after her death.

Cook. :Where did this happen?

Cook. : Yes, fifty miles from Kyiv.

Cook. : Well, there you go. (Dorosh enters)

Dorosh: Who will be the seminarian philosopher Khoma Brut?

Khoma: I will.

Dorosh: Get ready, you will go with me. The centurion is waiting for you, he can’t wait.

Khoma: I’m not going anywhere, like this.

Dorosh: No damn thing is asking you whether you want to go or not. I’ll only tell you this: if you show off your trot and philosophize, I’ll order you to be whipped so hard on your back and other things with a young birch tree that you won’t even go to the bathhouse. (to the assistant) Tie up the philosopher, otherwise he’ll just run away.

(in the cart)

Khoma: Hello, brothers-comrades!

Cook. : Be healthy, master philosopher.

Khoma: (off stage) And the brika is noble! And the horses are strong!

Dorosh: Yes, the brique is good and the horses are good! (sound of hooves)

Khoma: Let me go free, guys! What do you need me for?

Pom.: Maybe we'll let him go. After all, he is an orphan. Let him go wherever he wants.

Dor.: Trrrrr, we’ve arrived!

Khoma: (Khoma is alone on stage) Eh, what a glorious place! I would like to live here, fish in the Dnieper and in ponds, hunt with snares or a gun for little bustards and curlews! The fruits can be dried and sold to the city, or even better, smoked from them into vodka: because vodka made from fruits cannot be compared with any foam. Yes, it doesn’t hurt to think about how to sneak out of the farm! (Dorosh appears, he hears Khoma’s last words)

Dor.: It’s in vain that you think, Mr. Philosopher, that you’ll run away from the farm! This is not a place where you can escape. And the roads are bad for pedestrians. Better go to the master. He has been waiting for you in the room for a long time.

5 picture

Sot.: Who are you, and where are you from, what is your rank, good man?

Khom.: From the students, philosopher Khoma Brut.

Sot.: Who was your father?

Hom.: I don’t know, noble sir.

Cell: And your mother:

Hom.: I don’t know my mother either. According to common sense, of course, there was a mother, but who she was, and where she came from, and when she lived - by God, I don’t know.

Sot.: How did you meet my daughter:

Hom.: I haven’t met, noble sir, by God, I haven’t met. I have never had anything to do with pannochki, no matter how long I have lived in the world. Tsur to them, not to say obscenely.

Sot.: Why didn’t she assign someone else to read it to you?

Hom.: God knows how to interpret this. It is already a well-known fact that ladies sometimes want something that even the most literate person cannot understand. And the proverb says: “Ride, enemy, say so!”

Sot.: Aren’t you lying, Mr. Philosopher?

Hom.: Here in this very place let it clap like thunder if I’m lying.

Sot.: If only you had lived a moment longer, then I would probably have known everything. “Don’t let anyone read from me, but let’s go, tattoo, this very hour to the Kyiv seminary and bring the student Khoma Brut. Let me pray for three nights for my sinful soul. He knows...” And I no longer heard what “he knows” means. She, little dove, could only say, and died. You, a good man, are probably known for your holy life and godly deeds, and she may have heard a lot about you.

Hom.: Who? I? Am I living a holy life? God be with you, sir! What are you saying?

Sot.: Well, ..... that’s right, it’s not for nothing that it’s been appointed this way. You must start your own business from this very day.

Hom.: Only here it would be more decent to require a deacon, or at least a sexton. They are smart people and know how all this is already done. And I... but my voice is not like that, and I myself - God knows what, I don’t have any kind of appearance.

Sot.: Just as you want, only I will fulfill everything that my dove bequeathed to me, I will not regret anything. And when you perform prayers over her properly for three nights from this day on, I will reward you. Otherwise, I don’t advise the devil himself to make me angry. Follow me! (they walk) It’s not what I regret, my dearest daughter, that you, in the prime of your life, without living your due age, left the earth to my sorrow and grief. I regret this, my little dove, that I do not know who, my fierce enemy, was the cause of your death. If I knew who could even think of insulting you or even saying something unpleasant about you, then, I swear to God, he would never see his children again. But woe is me, I will live the rest of my life without fun, without my sweetheart. (wiping away tears he leaves)

6 picture

Hom.: Somehow I’ll work for three nights, for which the master will fill both my pockets with clean chervonets. (reads, looked at her, recognized her) Witch! (is reading)

Sot.: (enters) Go, master philosopher, you need to refresh yourself before the night. Go to the kitchen for dinner. (they leave together)

Male: Is it true that the lady, no matter how mentioned, knew an unclean woman?

Dor.: Who? Pannochka? Yes, she was quite a witch! I will swear that I am a witch!

Kitchen: Full, full, Dorosh! This is none of our business: God bless him. There is nothing to talk about this.

Dor.: What do you want? Why would I remain silent? Yes, she rode me herself! By God, I went!

Male: Well, uncle, is it possible to recognize a witch by some signs?

Dor.: It’s impossible. There is no way to find out, even if you read all the psalms, you won’t know.

Hom.: I wanted to ask why all this class that sits at dinner considers the lady a witch? Well, has she harmed or tormented anyone?

Kukh.: There were all sorts of things... You, master philosopher, did not know the huntsman Mikita...

Dor.: Tell me, tell him.

Kukh.: Eh, what a rare person he was! He used to know every dog ​​like his own father. He was a nice huntsman! Only recently did he begin to look at the lady. Was he really entangled in her or had she already bewitched him like that, only the man disappeared... One day the lady came to the stable where he was cleaning his horse. “Give me,” says Mikitka, “I’ll put my foot on you.” And he, the fool, is glad of it: he says - not only the leg, but sit on me yourself. Pannochka raised her leg, and when he saw her naked, plump and white leg, he says, the spell stunned him. He, the fool, bent his back and, grabbing both her legs, began to gallop like a horse across the entire field, and where they went, he could not say anything. Only he returned barely alive, and from then on he dried up like a piece of wood. And when they once came to the stable, instead of it there was only a pile of ash and an empty bucket: it burned completely, burned out on its own!

Kukh: Haven’t you heard about Shepchikha?

Hom.: No.

Kuh.: What do they teach you at the bursa?

Dor.: Come on, Pan Khoma! Now it’s time for us to go to the deceased, it’s night outside. (church opens)

7 painting “First night”

Hom.: Well, what is there to be afraid of? A person cannot come here, but I have prayers from the dead and people from the other world that, as soon as I read them, they won’t lay a finger on me. Nothing! Let's read. This is good, the whole church needs to be illuminated so that it can be seen during the day, oh, it’s a pity that in the temple of God you can’t smoke a cradle! (puts candles, lights them, and in the church it becomes darker, he approaches the coffin, runs from it to the door, tries to open it, returns, takes a book, reads) What to be afraid of, because she will not rise from her coffin because she is afraid of God’s word. Let him lie! And what kind of Cossack am I if I were afraid? (reads) “It’s about to get up!” Now he will rise, now he will look out of the coffin! (she raised her head, stood up, walks through the church with her eyes closed, spreads her arms, as if wanting to catch someone, walks towards him, he outlined a circle, reads, she hit tooth against tooth and opened her eyes, wants to catch Khoma, stopped, shook her finger and lay down in the coffin, other hands appeared, then disappeared, roosters, Dorosh enters)

Dor.: How did you reprimand?

Hom.: Yes, there were all sorts of miracles. (gets up and leaves with Dorosh)

8 painting “Afternoon fun”

Dor.: Well, it’s time for us, sir! Let's go to work. (They took me to church and left me alone)

9 painting “Second Night”

Hom.: Well, now this miracle is not strange to me. It's just scary the first time. Yes! It’s only scary the first time, but then it’s no longer scary, it’s not scary at all. (draws a circle, the corpse stands in front of him with open eyes, casts spells, noise, grinding, rooster crowing is heard, Khoma was brought into the kitchen)

10 painting “At the table”

Hom.: There is a lot of all sorts of rubbish in the world! And such fears happen - well...

Kitchen: Hello, Khoma! Ay-ay-ay, what's wrong with you?

Hom.: How, what?

Kitchen: Oh, my God! Yes, you're all gray!

Kuh.: Yes, she speaks the truth! You've definitely turned grey, like our old Yavtukh. (takes out a mirror)

Hom.: (looks in the mirror) I’ll go to the master, tell him everything and explain that I don’t want to read anymore, let him send me to Kyiv this very hour. (goes to the centurion)

11 picture

Cell: Hello, my goodness. How's it going for you? Is everything okay?

Hom.: All right, all right. Such devilry happens that you take your hat and run away wherever your feet take you.

Cell: How so?

Hom.: Yes, your daughter, sir, according to common sense, she, of course, is of the lord’s family, no one will dispute that. Only, not in anger, it will be said, God rest her soul...

Cell: What about my daughter?

Hom.: She let Satan come to her, she creates such fears that no scripture is taken into account...

Cell: Read, read! It was not for nothing that she called you. She cared, my dear, about her soul and wanted to drive away every bad thought with her prayers.

Hom.: The power is yours, sir: by God, it’s unbearable!

Cell: Listen, philosopher! I don't like these fictions. You can do this in your bursa, but it’s not like that with me: As soon as I pull it off, it’s not like the rector, do you know what good leather caps are?

Hom.: How not to know! Everyone knows what leather caps are: when large quantities- an unbearable thing.

Sot.: But you still don’t know how my slaves can soar! Go, go. Fix your case.

(Khoma tries to run away, but he fails)

Dor.: Good water! It was in vain that you, Mr. Philosopher, made such a detour. I had to go like I did, through the stables. Well, we've had enough of a walk. (Khoma drinks a mug of mash)

Khoma: What was I really afraid of? I reprimanded him for two nights, God will help me for the third.

Dor.: Let's go, it's time.

12 painting The third night

(draws a circle, reads, the corpse approaches, calls someone with a gesture)

Pan.: Call me Viya! Viya!

(strange sounds, light on stage, a huge creature appears, it glows, moves slowly, it itself looks like a huge shadow of a person)

Viy: Lift my eyelids! I can not see anything!

Khoma: Don't look, just don't look! I can’t, what’s wrong with me! I can't! (looks at Viy)

Viy: Here it is!

(Khoma falls to the ground lifeless, the sounds subside, the horrors disappear, the rooster crows, light music, all the participants in the performance come onto the stage with candles in their hands and sit on the stage)

The final

Gorob: Did you hear what happened to Khoma?

Freebie: So God gave it to him. Good man there was Khoma.

Dor.: And he disappeared for no reason. And I know why he disappeared. Because I was afraid. And if he hadn’t been afraid, the witch wouldn’t have done anything to him. All she has to do is spit on the very tail, then nothing will happen. I already know all this.

Leading:
So, the city of Kyiv, early hour at the beginning of summer,
A ray of sun gilds the cathedral on the square,
Next to it is a bursa and a seminary, and opposite them is a bazaar. The bells are ringing.
A crowd of seminarians and students rushing to class pours into the square.
On their way there is a bazaar, on their way there are traders...
1st student:

The sun will rise
The morning will come
The bell is ringing
Calls me to class.

2nd student:
Get ready for school
Wash, get dressed
Orthodox, Christ Glorious
Seminaries people.

3rd student:
But first we’ll walk through the bazaar, let’s walk,
And let’s fill our empty bellies, let’s fill them:
Apples, gingerbread, bagels, cucumbers,
Seeds, rolls, rolls, lollipops.
(high characteristic tenor):
hot dumplings...
(low bass):
and, of course, lard.
1st trader:
“Gentlemen, oh gentlemen! Here, here, here,
You won't find food like this anywhere else.
The axis of the bun, the axis of the rolls... "
2nd trader (grabbing the student by the hem of his coat):
"The best plums, the best watermelons,
Oh, angrily - cheap, eat from the belly..."
3rd trader:
“I’ll treat you to seeds.
I'm lining your pockets,
For free..."
4th trader:
“Apples and pears, come and eat!”
5th trader:
“Dumpling axis, dumpling axis,
Hot like cannonballs...
1st student:
“We are poor students,
We don't have much money
You women are not harmful,
How much is lard?
Women:
"Half a hryvnia pound."
Women:
"Boys, handsome boys,
Buy, don't skimp,
Don't hurt bellies.
You won’t get enough to eat in the bursa...”
2nd student:
“Then let’s try:
Pour, cut,
Pour it, treat it..."
Women:
“Just a little, just a little,
The thing is familiar: eat for free and go away...”
All the students:
“No, no, no, no, my God...”
3rd student:
Hey friends. the bell rings, hurry up on the move,
Grabbing various foods, we run from the market to classes!

Khoma:
“Before you, I, student Khoma, philosopher, merry fellow

I don’t bother myself at all with studying in classes.
And, if I can take a walk, of course I will.
But suddenly some kind of anxiety settled in me:
And I have nightmares, and long road,
I've reached the point. It's a matter of confusion: it's a dream or it's not a dream,
Is this a white fever, or is my brain inflamed?
Khoma suddenly sees: a maiden has appeared before him.
From the student, without taking her eyes off, she goes to him...
Khoma:
Look, here it is again... again a vision...
Oh, maiden... lady... beauty... heaven's creation...
Khoma tries to hug her, but catches air.
Khoma (to himself):
“Oh no,...don’t...where are you going?...Don’t go...wait”...
“Gone. That's a sign. Trouble, trouble will happen to me.”

1st student:

Ah, summer is hot, it’s time for spiritual laziness.
Go away, classes with their studies, the holidays have come.
2nd student:

Now it's time to enjoy
IN home, vivid impressions
Have a free life, a holiday of the soul.
3rd student:
Some are waiting for their parents, a farm, a melon patch,
Another is a tutor for a rich man's children,
Who dances, plays, who sings songs:
Our skinny belly doesn't like idleness.
And best of all, we sing carols,
When we sing carols, oh, we live well.

Freebie:
And the free flock took off, flying away,
It melted and became silent in the distance.

Tiberius:
Only three remain at the city gates:
One grammarian and two philosophers -
Tiberius, Freebie, Khoma,
It will be easier for the three of us to make it through the road,
They will support each other, help each other,
There is no danger on the way...
Freebie:
“You, Khoma, what are you going to do?
Khoma:
“Where are you going, Freebie?”
Freebie:
“Where the eyes look.
Tiberius, are you coming with us, or into the bushes?
Gorobets:
“I am with you, with you, gentlemen.
One in the field is a weak warrior..."
All three:
“Well, friends, let's go forward,
A long road awaits us."
Gorobets:

We wander along the Kyiv Highway.
Night fell.
She brought fear to us,
We don't have the strength to walk.
Freebie:

Suddenly a light flashed,

Gorobets:

Hope for bread and sleep - forward,
Khoma:

And we are as determined as ever
Students are such a people.
Look, there's a house standing there,
Large shed in the corner of the yard,
The end, the end of the night terrors
Food and relaxation await... Hurray!
All three:
Open up, good people, let us spend the night...
Old woman:
"Not allowed. It’s cramped, there’s no room: neither to sit, nor to lie down, nor to sleep.”
All three:
“We just need a roof.
The long road has brought us to the brink,
Let me go, for God’s sake.”
Old woman:
“Well, have it your way, but I’ll just resettle everyone one by one:
One to the hut, the other to the outbuilding,
and the third - in the barn, to sleep on the floor.”
The old woman lets freebies and Gorobets into the hut, and
Taking Khoma tenaciously by the elbow, she pulled her off the porch and went to show her the barn.
A minute later she returned to the courtyard filled with pale light,
She stretched out her hands to the moon...
Old woman:
“My soul, where are you: above, above the clouds,
Or down in the darkness you communicate with devils,
Who am I - my father's favorite, an enviable bride,
Or a witch with a broom who belongs in the graveyard.
During the day - lady, the centurion's daughter, mistress of the house,
And at night I’m ready to harness the Cossack
And well, jump until the morning,
Yes, it is my bitter destiny to be between heaven and earth...
It's time, it's time to decide: I am either a witch or a maiden
The old woman went to the blurry shadow of the old barn and, after a little hesitation,
Opened the door...
Khoma:
"Who's there? And it's you...
Listen, grandma,
Are you bringing me a quarter of a goose?
There is emptiness in the stomach,
There's not a crumb. It's time for dinner."
Like a raven, with outstretched wings, jumping along the ground,
The old woman moved towards Khoma...
Khoma:
“But, but... don’t... I’m young
And I don't need you for nothing...
Go to the house - it's time to sleep
You’ll be on the stove until the morning...”
Suddenly a sharp wave of his arms, taking off to the ceiling,
And landing...
Khoma:
“Oh, what’s wrong with me?... I’m like a horse...
And my legs are asking to run... no, no,

jump, jump... jump,

I don’t want, I don’t want... I’ll gallop... I’ll gallop..."
Leading:
And so the philosopher became a horse.
And the witch is a rider here...

They fly and see below them
fields, forest, lake with still waters...
Mermaids in it, with tails. .
They dance and sing...
Song of the Mermaids
1st:

"We are light shadows,
We are river fairies,
As soon as the sunset fades.
And a month in the sky
And the stars in the sky
They will sparkle in the darkness of the night,
2nd:

We go ashore
We go ashore
frolic, and sing, and dance.
And in songs and dances.
And in song and dance
Remember your life.
3rd:

We were young.
We were virgins
The blood stirred the hearts,
Oh, how we loved
And how they loved us
We believed: love is eternal.
4th:

But something happened
But something was breaking
And our life went downhill:
And here we are mermaids.
Now we are mermaids.
Our shelter is an untrodden reach.
5th:

We look through the water
We see through the water
How life goes on without us.
It's endless
It continues -
The sunset of life has not gone out.”
Khoma's voice (microphone):
“From the witch, from the serpent, from the enemy’s power...
I will find justice for you, no matter where you go.
Well, brother Khoma, save yourself -
Read the Lord's Prayer...
(Reads a prayer, after the words: “Give us this day our daily bread...” - short pause)
Khoma's voice:
“I feel she is weakening, and the height is no longer the same...”
(Is reading):
“And forgive us our debts, as we
We leave our debtor..."
Khoma:
"Earth, earth, birth mother...
Read, read, read, read...
“And do not lead us into temptation,
but deliver us from evil.”
Leading:
Overcome prayer evil spirits impossible,
And the witch falls.
Khoma:
“Well, witch, that’s it, it’s over for you,
Now you're in my control,
I'll ride to my heart's content, go ahead!
Ride faster, demonic race..."
Old woman:
"I'm tired..."
Khoma:
"Oh, you're tired...
Have you stopped casting spells?!
To suck blood from lads, from women, children,
I will kill you…
Old woman:
"Don't hit me, don't hit me...
Leading:
Khoma’s hand did not tremble: he hit with a stick
the witch once, twice, until she fell...
The philosopher was stunned when he saw before him
The old witch...the beauty who
She appeared to him, lay in front of him and died...
Khoma is terrified. He recognizes the stranger
Khoma:
“She,...she...running...running...”
Leading:
And again Kyiv-grad, and again Bursa, again the rector.
Khoma was recalled back, he should soon
Show up here in the office. The rector is waiting...
Rector:
“This is grief, this is misfortune:
The centurion's daughter was killed. Us
The news was stunned -
At seventeen her grave
I already took it.
The father asked to perform the funeral service for her, and urgently,
On your own farm, and not in absentia
Philosopher Khomu, about this, they say, she
She asked before she died.
But why student Khoma,
Her funeral service is obligatory -
I just can't understand.
He should appear soon
I’ll make him explain...” :
A quiet timid knock. Anxious Philosopher
He steps across the threshold, followed by a Cossack...
Rector:
“Be healthy, Mr. Philosopher...”
Khoma:
“And you, Mr. Rector, be healthy...”
Rector:
“Go immediately to Potylitsa-
The village is about fifty miles from us,
There you will sing to one girl -
Her order and my order...
Well, go ahead, don’t forget my words.
The tent is in the yard, and in it
Five Cossacks. Go quickly."
In the centurion's house.
Fate, fate...Oh, to know what awaits you, Khoma...
The Cossacks brought him to the centurion’s house...
The house is filled with trouble, the centurion is full of trouble...
Centurion:
"Who are you? Who are your father and mother?
And how did you get to know
Are you my daughter?
But it’s from here to Kyiv
How about fifty versts to ride?!”
Khoma:
“I, sir, am a student. I, sir, am a philosopher.
I didn’t know my parents
Grew up an orphan. Father Kleosoph
He noticed me and picked me up.
But I haven’t seen your daughter in the eyes,
Hey, the Lord won’t let you lie.
I've never hurt a fly in my life
And what about the girl?! Don't stand
In this very place I-
Burn over low heat..."
Centurion:
"So why is my daughter
Did you ask me to perform your funeral service?”
Khoma:
“I don’t know, Master Centurion, I...”
Centurion:
"Perhaps my swallow
I heard that you, Khoma
Great hunter to sing the funeral service,
Read sorrowful prayers,
You know the ancient rituals
And you execute with precision...”
Khoma:
“But, sir...”
Centurion:
“And also Khoma,
Apparently you are known for holiness,
You don’t drink wine, you fast, you’re honest...”
Khoma:
“But, sir...”
Centurion:
"When evening comes,
They take you to church, candles
And you will find the books you need,
There is a coffin with a deceased woman, you begin
Read the prayers order by order...”
Khoma:
“But, sir...”
Centurion:
"For her death
I will take revenge...
(short pause)
“Oh, my God, what grief,
How hard, how bitter is the fate
Parents. Losing children -
There is nothing worse in life
Why the death of a daughter, or a son...
Oh, how I loved my daughter.
I am my life without a trace
He gave it to her. Death took her, and with her
She also took the life of my soul.
Dove, swallow, here - here
My hour of death will strike,
You won't be alone for long,
We will meet you soon.,
Khoma:
"I'm scared..."
Centurion:
“Uh...uh...hey, Spirid, take the philosopher with you,
(shouts at the door):
Take me to the house, feed me,
Put me to bed so I can be fresh,
I would say prayers all night,
And to ask the Lord
Remove the sins from my little dove
And give it into the hands of an Angel.
Go with God..."
Spirid and Khoma leave.
Khoma (Spiridu):
“They say here that the lady knew
With evil spirits..."
Spirid
“I knew it, and how.
She was wearing me all night
On horseback until the morning..."
Khoma:
“You’re lying, it can’t be
So that a witch could live among people,
I went to church and was baptized...”
Spirid
“Both during the day and at night it rushed
On the broom. Yes, Thomas will tell you about the huntsman
Thomas:

Yes, everyone remembers the huntsman Mikitka...
This was the huntsman for everyone - the huntsman,
On horseback, with a dog will catch up
And he will shoot any creature..."
Khoma:
“And then, what next...”
Spirid:
“And the fact that I fell in love with the lady.
I used to spend the whole day fiddling around
With dogs and horses,
As if with small children,
Thomas:

And here he can’t take his eyes off the lady,
Walks around her in circles
And he strives to serve her:
That will help you get on a horse
Then he will pick meadow flowers
Yes, he will bring it to her as a gift.
Then on a hot day he will serve you some water.
Spirid:

In short, girl
She mastered it before
That he forgot what to call him...
I’m not lying, by God, just listen.

Thomas:

Overnight
Misfortune awaited the hound.
The lady comes to him and asks the horse to ride,
In response to Mikita: “And on me
Would you like to take a walk?”
And he gives her his back.
Jump on your back and quickly
Get out of the yard...
Spirid:

They weren't there until the morning
And in the morning he crawled back alive
And in front of everyone it burned to the ground.
The ash was left over from the huntsman Mikita,
What the witch did to him is all unknown.
Cossack:
“And she drank blood...
At night I conjured...
Witch, witch, Satan is her friend,
What fear did you create around you?
It’s not enough to sing her funeral service -
Drive her aspen stake
To the grave..."
Khoma:
"My God…
Take on Satan himself,
Fight against evil spirits
I'll have to go to church at night.
Lord, save and preserve
Raise me to the feat..."
Spirid:
“Well, philosopher, it’s not time
We should go to church from the yard.
Will you stay there overnight?
Read the necessary prayers,
To bury the sins of the deceased...
Let's go to..."
Leading:

The Cossacks, having crossed their foreheads and bowed to the ancient images, left Khoma inside. They themselves locked the door from the outside.
It’s scary to think what will happen to him, to Khoma...
Khoma:
“How dark and gloomy it is here,
And it’s quiet, like in the forest,
I see a pack of candles
I'll take them, bring them,
If I light it, it will become brighter,
Their light will drive away fear,
And the face of the saints will rise
In ancient images.
There's a book on the lectern,
Blackening, the coffin stands,
Its lid is open,
The lady lies in it.
Fear rises to the throat:
I want to see
The face of the one I sing the funeral service
That she chose me.
Step... Well, one more step... Bolder,
Don't take your eyes off...
Oh God, I'm freezing...
Look, look, look...
Ah-ah-ah-ah, mom...
Old woman... witch... crazy...
The door is locked...
The bars on the window... guard!
Prayers are my salvation,
The premonition came true:
So this is what the vision is for
It appeared - everything came together.
I need to draw a circle
Around you, the devil himself,
All evil spirits, the forces of hell
The circle will not cross.
Homa, don't lose heart
And get to work,
Well, neither feather nor fluff,
Start praying.
Leading:
Read, Khoma, read, atone for the sins of the newly deceased,
Bring prayers to God
And whether he will forgive her or not, you have no way of knowing...
Khoma:
Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia.
With the depth of wisdom, humanely
Build everything and be useful to everyone
Give to the One Creator.
Rest, O Lord, the soul of Thy servant...”
Leading:
Read, Khoma, read, don’t look up,
After all, the dead has risen...
I couldn't stand it, I picked it up...
Khoma:
“Oh... Lord... he gets up, he gets up in the coffin...
Save and preserve... now I’m going crazy..."
(Grabs a book and reads):
“I have placed my hope in you,
Creator and Founder
And our God..."
Leading
And suddenly a crazy rooster, barely opening his stuck eyelids,
A heart-rending scream erupted... The coffin immediately sank
And slammed the lid.
The morning has come...
Spirid:
Yes, the philosopher came to his senses all day.
Rich food, vodka quart
Added excitement to him
And the spirit of fortress. After all, he, Khoma, is a Cossack...
Cossack:

Everything would be fine
Yes, just a day has passed,
The second night has arrived.

Khoma:

Still the same guard, the same door,
Again the black coffin, and the witch rose again.
Read, read, without looking up,
And the witch, looking for me, goes around the entire temple again.
And again the circle cannot be overcome by evil spirits,
Be patient a little longer and... she will lie in the grave.
Be patient a little longer
To make the east glow,
And crow loudly for the rooster. rooster crow

Thank God I endured everything,
I made it through the second night.
Spirid to the Cossack:

Khoma turned his head gray,
And paid with gray hair
For your battle with evil spirits

Cossack:
And now the third night has come,

And how can Khome endure it?
Pannochka:
“He’s here, he’s come, I hear him,
I feel that he is breathing quickly
And stutters, cold sweat
Kicked him to the toes -
He is overcome with horror...”
Khoma continues reading.
Khoma:
"Give rest, O Lord, to Thy servant
And bring it to heaven..."
Pannochka (furious):
“To heaven... He is my earthly executioner,
He beat me, hearing me cry,
His hand didn't move
Beat a girl..."
Khoma (reading):
"Peace, our Savior,
With the righteous Thy servant..."
Pannochka, spreading her arms, walks toward Khoma’s voice.
Pannochka:
“I came here alive -
You'll leave here dead
And straight to hell.
Everyone will be happy there
To torment you..."
He reaches the circle, but cannot cross the line.
Khoma:
"All Holy Theotokos,
During my belly
Don't leave me..."
Pannochka:
“It’s not convenient for me to kill you right away,
I want to play with you like a cat and a mouse..."
Khoma:
"Lord Jesus Christ,
Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner..."
Pannochka (walking in a circle and grabbing the air with her hands):
“Homa, I don’t see you,
Where did you hide?
I'll find it anyway
I'll tear your throat with my claws
And I will greedily fall to the wound,
Drink your hot blood..."

Pannochka shouts:

“Homa, where are you?
Khoma, open up to me, Khoma, let me kill you..."
(Khoma is reading at this time)
Khoma:
"Lord and Master of my life, spirit
Idleness, despondency, lust and
Don't give me idle talk...
The spirit of chastity, humility,
Grant me patience and love,
To Your servant...
To her, Lord, King, grant me to see
My sins and do not blame my brother
Mine, for blessed art thou unto the ages of ages.
Amen..."
Pannochka:
"All the powers of darkness, all the powers of hell,
Hurry here, to me, I have to
Find, kill and tear to pieces
The enemy and my killer.
Hey you bloodsucking vampires,
Hurry here for a feast on the mountain
With all the devilish horde,
Hey devils, werewolves, gnomes,
Swamp kikimoras, familiar
Execute for you: living soul
Drive you crazy with fear
Kill and eat, leaving no ashes..."
Leading:
There was a roar, and from the hinges
The forged door fell off,
They burst with the sound of glass...
And a host of monsters from terrible dreams
Ready to find a philosopher...
Pannochka:
“Seek, seek,
Catch him, bring him..."
Khoma (reading):
“O Mother of God, Virgin, rejoice,
Blessed Mary, the Lord is with you,
Blessed are You among women
And blessed is the fruit of Your womb,
For you gave birth to the Savior of our souls...”
Pannochka:
“Found, found, is he here?
I hear his voice..."
Devilry:
"We hear, but we do not see,
He is here, however, he is not there..."
Pannochka:
“Viy, bring Viy...
Khoma:
“Our Father, who art in heaven...”
The orchestra depicts a heavy tread and Viy appears at the door.
Pannochka:
“Oh, finally, Viy...
You see what's on earth
Hidden for others...
Help me see the killer.
I really want to catch him and punish him.
Because he killed me in that life..."
Viy:
“Raise my eyelids...”
Khoma:
“Read, read without raising your eyes,
Don’t look at Viy...”
Don't give in to evil spirits
Be strong in faith until the end,
The spirit weakens and you are in the grave,
The spirit will endure - you are with the Creator...
Viy:
“I don’t see him...”
Leading:
The soul gave up and, exhausted,
Khoma raised his eyes to Viy,
Their gazes met...
Khoma:
"That's it, no more strength.. .
Viy:
"Here he is..."
Leading:
Khoma fell and his spirit left his body...
All the evil spirits screamed and thundered
And she rushed to him...
But the rooster crowed
And the devil’s army did not have time to leave the church,
Stuck in the window bars and doors.
And in the morning they found her all
Frozen in ridiculous poses
The priest, seeing the shame of this shrine,
He refused the funeral service.
Since then, the road to the church began to become overgrown,
Over time, a forest grew in this place...

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Page creation date: 2017-10-25

However, if you turn to our festive culture, you can see with the naked eye that we have a very honorable place for playing with otherworldly forces and glorifying the world of spirits. Halloween is coming, and why not arrange a bright and interesting symbiosis Western traditions and local color? We bring to your attention scenario plan incendiary, based on the story “Viy” by N.V. Gogol.

Creating an entourage:
Our party involves an appeal to the unique flavor of the Ukrainian farm. The main action of the story takes place in a small church, blackened by age, where the lady’s reckoning with the philosopher takes place. We don’t have to adhere to the plot literally, let it be an interestingly decorated hall, in which there will be signs of village life and, of course, symbols of the holiday. What could it be?

• Wooden furniture - tables, benches;
• A small woodpile by the fireplace, dishes, buckets, brooms, etc. household items;
• Foyer, decorated as a canopy;
• Candles in large quantities;
• Carefully draped windows and walls decorated with figures of spiders, bats, skeletons and skulls;
• What if one of your employees has a black cat at home - be sure to “invite” it to the party.

Start the holiday by welcoming your guests. Assistant witches meet everyone in the foyer and escort them directly to the hall, where guests are treated to treats on the tables (set the buffet with Ukrainian dishes in advance) and entertainment - a crackling hot fireplace, a video from the film "Viy" on big screen and the ritual of fortune-telling, traditional for our culture.

Divination:

1. On the woodpile. Everyone pulls out a log from the woodpile and looks at it: a smooth, even log promises a kind and flexible husband (wife), a knotty one promises a quarrelsome, angry one, and an uneven one, with pieces of bark, promises a life of wealth and prosperity.
2. By the shoe. Women's fortune telling. The girls take the shoe off their foot and throw it over their shoulder. Which way the sock lies is the direction to get married.
3. On wax. Over a bowl of cold water light a candle. When the wax begins to melt, tilt the candle and let it flow into the water. Based on the resulting outlines, the witch leading this fortune-telling will reveal your destiny. Here are a few values ​​to start with:

• Small frozen droplets - for money;
• Grapes - good luck in business;
• Mushroom – vitality, longevity;
• Flowers - a love affair or a happy marriage;
• Stripes - travel or relocation;
• Stars – career success;
• Bell - good news;
• The human silhouette is a new friend;
• Apple – wisdom and health;
• Egg - new hopes.

​

Equipment:

Replaceable screen;

Suits;

Table, bench, window;

Musical accompaniment: sound recording of bell ringing; sound recording of a blizzard; musical composition N. A. Rimsky - Korsakov “The Night Before Christmas”.

The bright lights in the hall are extinguished. Garlands of stars are burning. A gentle, quiet instrumental composition sounds. From behind the curtain on both sides of the stage, two angels emerge in turn - the presenters.

Presenter 1:The last day before Christmas has passed. Winter clear night has arrived.The stars looked out. The month majestically rose into the sky to shine on good people and the whole world, so that everyone would have fun caroling and praising Christ.

Presenter 2:It was freezing more than in the morning; but it was so quiet that the crunch of frost under a boot could be heard half a mile away. Not a single crowd of boys had ever appeared under the windows of the huts; for a month he only glanced at them furtively, as if calling the girls who were dressing up to run out quickly into the crunchy snow.

Presenter 1:Then smoke fell in clouds through the chimney of one hut and spread like a cloud across the sky, and along with the smoke a witch rose riding on a broom.

Presenter 2:The witch rose so high that only a black speck flashed above. But wherever the speck appeared, there the stars, one after another, disappeared from the sky.

Presenter 1:Soon the witch had a full sleeve of them. Three or four were still shining. Suddenly, on the other side, another speck appeared... It was the devil, who spent the last night wandering around the world and teaching the sins of good people. Tomorrow, with the first bells for matins, he will run without looking back, tail between his legs, to his den.

Presenter 2: Meanwhile, the devil was creeping slowly towards the month, and was already reaching out his hand to grab him; but suddenly he pulled it back, as if he had been burned, sucked his fingers, swung his leg and ran to the other side, and again jumped back and pulled his hand away. However, despite all the failures, cunning devil did not abandon his mischief. Running up, he suddenly grabbed the month with both hands, grimacing and blowing, throwing it from one hand to the other, like a man getting fire for his cradle with his bare hands; Finally, he hastily put it in his pocket and, as if nothing had happened, ran on.

Presenter 1:In Dikanka, no one heard how the devil stole a month...

As the story progresses, the presenters, Solokh and the devil show all the described actions in a pantomime dance and hide behind the curtain.

Presenter 2:But what was the reason for the devil to decide on such a lawless deed? And here’s what: a blacksmith, a strong man and a fellow anywhere, who was the devil more disgusting than the sermons of Father Kondrat, will probably come to the daughter of the rich Cossack Chub, the beauty in the whole village, who will be left alone at home.

Presenter 1: In his spare time from business, the blacksmith was engaged in painting and was known as the best painter in the entire area. The triumph of his art was the painting painted on the church wall in the right vestibule, in which he depicted Saint Peter on the day of the Last Judgment, with keys in his hands, expelling the evil spirit from hell...

Vakula, with a brush in his hands, “paints” angels on the stage curtain. The devil peeks out from around the corner, gets angry, threatens Vakula with his fist.

Presenter 2: And from that time on, the devil swore to take revenge on the blacksmith. There was only one night left for him to wander around in this world; but even that night he was looking for something to take out his anger at the forge.

Presenter 1:Now let's see what the beautiful daughter does when left alone. Oksana was not yet seventeen years old, and in almost the entire world, both on the other side of Dikanka and on this side of Dikanka, there was nothing but talk about her. The boys proclaimed in droves that there had never been and never would be a better girl in the village. Oksana knew and heard everything that was said about her, and she was capricious, like a beauty. The boys chased after her in crowds, but, having lost patience, they left little by little and turned to others, who were not so spoiled. Only the blacksmith was stubborn and did not give up his red tape, despite the fact that he was treated no better than others.

All this time, Oksana twirls in front of the mirror and preens herself, trying on one piece of jewelry, then another.

Oksana (looking at herself in the mirror):Why do people want to tell me that I’m good? People lie, I'm not good at all. Are my black eyebrows and eyes so good that they have no equal in the world? What's so good about that upturned nose? and in the cheeks? and on the lips? as if my black braids are good? Wow! You can be scared of them in the evening: they, like long snakes, twisted and wrapped around my head. I see now that I am not good at all! (Moves the mirror a little further away from himself and exclaims) No, I'm good! Oh, how good! Miracle! What joy will I bring to the one I will marry! How my husband will admire me! He won't remember himself.

Vakula enters quietly and unnoticed. He shrugs and watches Oksana twirl in front of the mirror.

Vakula (speaks quietly to the side): Wonderful girl! And she has little boasting! He stands for an hour, looking in the mirror, and can’t get enough of it, and still praises himself out loud!

Oksana (continues talking to herself, looking in the mirror and grinning):Yes, boys, am I a match for you? Look at me, how I move smoothly; My shirt is made of red silk. And what ribbons on the head! You will never see richer braid in your life! My father bought all this for me so that the best guy in the world would marry me!

Oksana (turns around, sees the blacksmith, screams in surprise and immediately attacks him with the words): Why did you come here? Do you really want to be kicked out the door with a shovel? You are all masters at approaching us. You'll know in no time when your fathers aren't home. ABOUT! I know you! So, is my chest ready?

Vakula (speaks, crumpling his hat in his hands with excitement): He will be ready, my dear, after the holiday he will be ready. If you only knew how much you fussed around him: he didn’t leave the forge for two nights; but not a single priest will have such a chest. And how it will be painted! Even if you go out all the way around with your little white legs, you won’t find anything like this! Red and blue flowers will be scattered throughout the field. It will burn like heat. Don't be angry with me! Let me at least talk, at least look at you!

Oksana (changing anger for mercy, flirtatiously):Who is stopping you? Speak and see!

Vakula(speaks cautiously and tries to sit down next to him on the bench): Let me sit next to you too!

Oksana (jumps up, shakes off her dress and speaks haughtily):What else do you want? When he needs honey, he needs a spoon! Go away, your hands are tougher than iron. And you yourself smell of smoke. I think I got soot all over me!

Vakula(to the side, hanging his head sadly): She doesn't love me. All toys for her; and I stand in front of her like a fool, and don’t take my eyes off her. And he would still stand in front of her, and never take his eyes off her! Wonderful girl! What I wouldn't give to know what's in her heart, who she loves. But no, she doesn’t need anyone. She admires herself; torments me, poor thing; but I don’t see the light behind the sadness; and I love her as no other person in the world has ever loved or will ever love.

Oksana(funny):Is it true that your mother is a witch?

Vakula(also fun):What do I care about my mother? you are my mother and father and everything that is dear in the world. If the king called me and said: blacksmith Vakula, ask me for everything that is best in my kingdom, I will give it all to you. I will order you to make a gold forge, and you will begin to forge with silver hammers. I don’t want, I would tell the king, neither expensive stones, nor a gold forge, nor your entire kingdom. Better give me my Oksana!

Oksana:See what you are like! only my father himself is not a mistake. You'll see when he doesn't marry your mother. (looks worriedly out the window) However, the girls don't come ... What would that mean? It's high time to start caroling. I'm getting bored.

Vakula:God be with them, my beauty!

Oksana (boldly, defiantly):No matter how it is! The boys will probably come with them. This is where the balls begin. I can imagine the funny stories they will tell!

Vakula(with bitterness in his voice): So are you having fun with them?

Oksana(coquettishly):It's more fun than with you. A! Someone knocked, probably girls and boys! (runs to the window and looks).

Vakula(aside): What should I expect more? She's making fun of me. I am as dear to her as a rusty horseshoe. But if that’s the case, at least someone else won’t get to laugh at me. Let me just perhaps notice who she likes more than me; I'll wean you off... (loud)Wait, I'll open it myself!

A crowd of girls with bags runs in, laughing, and surrounds Oksana. They take gifts out of bags for caroling and show off. Oksana is having fun. The blacksmith stands aside. Suddenly Oksana pays attention to the boots of one of the girls.

Oksana: Uh, Odarka! You have new boots! Oh, how good they are! And with gold! It’s good for you, Odarka, you have a person who buys everything for you; and I have no one to get such nice boots.

Vakula:Don’t worry, my beloved Oksana! I’ll get you the kind of booties that a rare lady wears!

Oksana(arrogantly, with irony): You? I'll see where you can get boots that I could put on my leg. Will you bring the same ones that the queen wears?

Girls (funny): See which ones you wanted!

Oksana: Yes! Be all of you witnesses, if the blacksmith Vakula brings those same booties that the queen wears, then, here is my word, that I will marry him at that very moment.

The girls run away laughing.

Vakula(to himself): Laugh, laugh! I laugh at myself! I think, and I can’t figure out where my mind went. She doesn't love me - well, God bless her! as if there is only one Oksana in the whole world. Thank God, there are many good girls in the village even without her. What about Oksana? She will never be a good housewife; She's just a master of dressing up.

Behind the curtain you can hear the ringing laughter of the girls and Oksana’s words: “Get, blacksmith, the Tsarina’s booties, I’ll marry you!”

The blacksmith clasps his head in his hands and runs away.

In Solokha's house.

The devil silently curls around Solokha, now kneeling in front of her, now pressing his hands to his chest and rolling his eyes to the sky. At this time there is a knock on the door. The devil begins to rush around the room. Finds an empty bag (bags are made without a bottom). Jumps into it. Solokha opens the door and Mr. Head enters.

Head: I went to see the clerk, but a snowstorm arose, and I was lost for about a month. And I saw a light in your house and decided to look into the light.

Solokha approaches the Head with a tray to treat her dear guest, but at this time there is a knock on the door again.

Head (alarmingly): Hide me somewhere. I don’t want to meet the clerk now.

Solokha hides it in a bag and lets the clerk in, who walks around the room, rubbing his hands, sits down at the table and asks with some caution.

Deacon (touching Solokha’s hand): What do you have, magnificent Solokha?

Solokha(playfully, somewhat surprised): Like what? Hand, Osip Nikiforovich!

Deacon(cordially, pleased with himself): Hm! Hand! Heh, heh, heh! (walking around the room, touching the jewelry on Solokha’s neck) And what do you have, dearest Solokha?

Solokha(playfully, shrugging his shoulders somewhat in surprise): As if you don’t see, Osip Nikiforovich! Neck, and on the neck there is a monisto!

Deacon (with a satisfied smile): Hm! Monisto on the neck! Heh, heh, heh!

An unexpected knock on the door takes the clerk by surprise.

Deacon(scared): Oh, my God, a third party! What now if they find a person of my rank?.. It will reach Father Kondrat... For God’s sake, virtuous Solokha, your kindness, as Luke’s scripture says, is the head of the trin... trin... They are knocking, by God, they are knocking! Oh! Hide me somewhere!

In confusion, he tries to hide under the table, under the bench... Solokha pulls him out from everywhere and puts him in a sack. Chub enters.

Forelock(fun, ironic):Hello, Solokha! Maybe you weren't expecting me, huh? Really, you didn’t expect it? maybe I got in the way... Maybe you've already hidden someone, huh?

Solokha hurries with a tray to treat the guest.

Forelock:I think my throat is frozen from the damn cold … God sent such a night before Christmas! How she grabbed, do you hear, Solokha, how she grabbed ... My hands are numb: I can’t unfasten the casing! How the blizzard hit …

Vakula (angrily): Open it!

Forelock(scared): Someone is knocking!

Vakula (angry, impatient): Open it!

Forelock(scared):It's a blacksmith! Do you hear, Solokha, take me wherever you want; I wouldn’t want for anything in the world to show myself to this damned degenerate, so that he, the devil’s son, would have a bubble the size of a shock under both eyes!

Solokha, frightened herself, rushes about like mad, and, having forgotten herself, gives a sign to Chub to climb into the very bag in which the clerk is already sitting.

The blacksmith entered without saying a word, without taking off his hat, and almost fell onto the bench. The blacksmith absentmindedly looked around the corners of his hut and fixed his eyes on the bags.

Vakula:Why are these bags lying here? It's time to remove them from here long ago. This stupid love has made me completely stupid. Tomorrow is a holiday, and all sorts of rubbish is still lying in the house. Take them to the forge! Will this worthless Oksana really not get out of my mind? I don't want to think about her; but I keep thinking, and as if on purpose, about her alone. Why is it so that thoughts creep into your head against your will? (trying to lift the bags) What the hell, the bags seem to be heavier than before! There must be something else here besides coal. I'm a fool! I forgot that now everything seems harder to me. Previously, it happened that I could bend and straighten a copper coin and a horse's shoe in one hand; and now I won’t lift bags of coal. Soon I will fall from the wind. No, what kind of woman am I! I won't let anyone laugh at me! At least ten of these bags, I’ll lift them all.

Vakula “lifts” the bags without a bottom, “puts them” on his shoulder (those who are in the bags quietly walk from the stage behind the curtain in the bags).

Laughter and carols are heard behind the curtain:

Shchedrik, bucket!
Give me a dumpling,
A breast of porridge,
Kilse cowboys!

A blacksmith runs out onto the stage from behind the curtain. He has one bag behind him. He throws it. The devil gets out of the bag and jumps on his shoulders from behind.

Crap (mysteriously):It’s me, your friend, I’ll do anything for my comrade and friend! I'll give you as much money as you want. Oksana will be ours today!

Vakula(scratching the back of his head in thought): Please! For this price I'm ready to be yours!

Crap(to the side, laughing): Now we've got a blacksmith! Now I’ll take it out on you, my dear, all your pictures and fables, raised against the devils. What will my comrades say now when they find out that the most pious man in the entire village is in my hands? (squeaky) Well, Vakula! You know that they don't do anything without a contract.

Vakula: I'm ready! I heard that you sign with blood; wait, I’ll get a nail in my pocket!

Vakula contrived and caught the devil by the tail.

Crap(laughing): Look, what a joker! Well, that's enough, enough of the naughtiness!

Vakula(crossing himself and holding the devil by the tail): Wait, my dear! But how does this seem to you? Wait, you will learn from me to teach good people and honest Christians to sin.

The blacksmith, without letting go of his tail, jumped up astride the devil and raised his hand to make the sign of the cross.

Crap(plaintively): Have mercy, Vakula! I’ll do everything you need, just let your soul go to repentance: don’t put a terrible cross on me!

Crap(plaintively, sadly): Where?

Vakula: To St. Petersburg, straight to the queen!

Vakula, riding the devil, disappears behind the curtain.

They appear from the other side of the stage. Vakula gets off the devil. He tries to run away immediately. The bells are ringing.

Vakula (holds the devil by the tail): Where? Wait, buddy, that's not all: I haven't thanked you yet.

Grabbing a twig, he gave him three blows, and the devil began to run. The blacksmith runs away after him.

In Chub's house.

Chub enters and sits down. There is a knock on the door. The blacksmith enters. He kneels in front of Chub.

Vakula:Have mercy, dad! Don't be angry! Here's the whip for you: hit as much as your heart desires, I surrender myself; I repent of everything; Hit me, but don’t be angry!

Forelock(lightly hitting Vakula on his bent back several times): Well, that's it for you, get up! Always listen to old people! Let's forget everything that happened between us! Well, now tell me, what do you want?

Vakula: Give me Oksana for me, dad!

Forelock(after thinking a little, he pats Vakula on the shoulder): Good! Send matchmakers!

Vakula rises from his knee. Oksana enters. Seeing the blacksmith, he screams in surprise.

Vakula(unfolds the package and takes out his shoes): Look what boots I brought you! The same ones that the queen wears.

Oksana(smiling shyly at the blacksmith): No! No, I don't need booties! I don’t even have booties …

A cheerful crowd of boys and girls runs in. They surround Vakula and Oksana. Cheerful music is playing. Everyone is having fun. A curtain.

I re-read N.V. Gogol: Tatiana Parfenova, German language teacher high school No. 16 named after. D.M. Karbysheva of the city of Chernogorsk, Republic of Khakassia

Illustration: still from the film “Evenings on a farm near Dikanka”.