Hedgehog in the Fog (1975)
Hedgehog in the Fog Review
Hedgehog in the Fog is a 1975 Soviet animated short film directed by Yuriy Norshteyn. It is a highly well regarded work for many good reasons.
The plot here is deceptively simple, but metaphorical. The little hedgehog goes to see his friend the bear with whom he counts the stars regularly. But on the way he wanders into the mist and encounters some interesting phenomena. When he gets back, the bear is happy because he couldn’t imagine his life without that routine of counting stars whereas the hedgehog is sad as he has experienced something different and reminisces of it. Now, that metaphor I honestly did not get and had to read it on the internet written by someone else, but once I understood it, it made the movie all the more powerful and meaningful to me. And although that ending seemed a bit too short, it was still one of the best scenes of the film.
The animation is gorgeous. The character designs take some time getting used to, but the effects of the fog are phenomenal and its very dark imagery is absolutely beautiful to watch. It has such an eerie, atmospheric quality to it and there were a couple of pretty creepy moments here. The film definitely has a strong atmosphere wonderfully conveyed through that terrific animation. The score is also really strong and I liked the minimal use of dialogue quite a bit here. Its dreamlike, almost otherworldly feel definitely leads to an unforgettable experience. And although it is seemingly simplistic and difficult to understand, once you do, it will make this journey all the more rewarding.
Different people in Russia (USSR) understood and understand this film in their own way. Young informals in the Soviet Union admired the “Hedgehog in the Fog” in a somewhat bizarre interpretation. Once I gave the whole movie in this version. If you are interested, I am sending the first part.
FEAR AND LOATHING IN THE FOG
Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder.
Oscar Wilde
(printed translation of the brilliant animated film « Hedgehog in the fog» by Yuri Borisovich Norstein)
I
The chronometer needle reached the number 13,
trembled and fell at the hedgehog’s feet in an attack of erectile weakness.
Somehow, all of a sudden, he found himself out of the house and trying to figure everything out:
Where and why is he going now?
“This is completely fucked up,” thought the hedgehog
and threw his shaking head into a space devoid of time.
Still, it was more of an evening.
After all, in the evenings the hedgehog went to the bear to count the stars.
They sat on a log and,
sipping Baltic tea with raspberry jam,
looked at the starry sky.
It was hanging over the roof right behind the chimney…
To the right of the pipe were the stars of a bear cub, and to the left – a hedgehog.
He was always thrown into what Lenin called leftism.
And now the hedgehog was crushed by some kind of left, unpleasant high.
He clearly feltbehind him the sweaty eagle owl
described by Remarque, who was following him at his heels.
But there was a bear cub, stars and other pleasant things ahead.
So, clutching a rag with hemp buns and raspberry jam with his paw,
the hedgehog heroically trotted towards the awakening of his mind.
– Stars!.. – The hedgehog on the way raised his head to the sky, –
here they are, they are about to break through!.. Heck!.. Well, why am I so painfully flattened? .
the hedgehog quickened his pace and tried to focus on
what kind of drugs he could take before this unexpected journey.
And the stars were already being drawn in puddles,
and a sweaty feathered creature
for fun dispersed them with its clawed paw.
Passing by, the hedgehog looked into the well.
“What if someone lives there,” thought the hedgehog,
remembering the inexpressibly terrible story
of our old man Ray, who was a Bradbury …
and even shouted something into the gut of the log structure.
After repeating the echo several times,
“The one who is waiting” turned on the other side
and did not make itself felt in any way.
True, this spirit of the well wanted
to tear off the head of a crazy owl,
but, realizing that a mad bird was in front of him,
he scored on this glitch until better times…
Meanwhile, the hedgehog stomped forward,
supporting the fading consciousness with the following monologue:
– And I’ll tell him: I’ll treat you to raspberry jam…
– And he’ll say: here is a cold samovar…
We need to throw some branches… these, what’s their name… Ah, juniper!..
– And I’ll tell him… And I’ll tell him… and I will say …”.
At this thought, the process of farting the hedgehog’s brain was abruptly interrupted,
because a huge White Horse appeared before his eyes!
The animal grew right out of the fog,
where he bent his head to fill his steep sides with this substance.
And then the hedgehog had an epiphany:
And about the fact that he had taken a fair amount of whiskey in the morning,
and about the fact that he had inhaled a lot of ether after that…
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!..” – the hedgehog’s consciousness was pinched somewhere
either in the pit of his stomach, or under his arm –
the image was monumental and surreal to the point of fucking,
which, however, saved the flattened mind of a prickly addict.
The thought jerked and flowed in an unexpected direction
along with the stomping hedgehog:
“But I wonder,” thought the hedgehog,
“if the horse goes to bed, will it drown in the fog?.. ”
And he began to slowly descend the hill to penetrate the fog and understand:
How is it inside?
The buzz from the transferred libations seemed to come out with the fog,
which made the hedgehog feel a pleasant bliss and awe of unprecedented discoveries.
Like the poetic hero of Arthur Rimbaud,
he imagined himself as a fog spinner,
wandering through time.
“Wow!.. – Whispered the touched hedgehog, – and even the paws are invisible…”
The little druggy freak shook his head and called softly into the fog:
“Horse! ..”
But the horse said nothing.
And then the guy was covered with the first accidental betrayal.
A large withered oak leaf flew down on his shaking head,
causing confusion.
The hedgehog closed his eyes with both paws and froze.
“Watch out!”, – the consciousness was pierced by fear.
The hedgehog carefully released his eyesight and looked around.
Playing in the wind, a tree leaf lay on the ground.
Following the snail, the bizarre harmony of being
finally crept along with the roof of his mind somewhere towards the bad trip,
and the hedgehog shivered.
He timidly took an oak leaf, looked under it – was there any danger there? –
Fleetingly appreciated the prospect of smoking it…
And then he was seized with panic horror!!!
With a deep sigh of the drain tank,
the foggy space began to expand threateningly…
Hi! Thanks for sending that interesting text, feel free to send more if you wish.
So this text functions as a companion piece to the movie?
No, not really. This is my literary interpretation of the context that representatives of the informal youth subculture in the Soviet Union put into this animated film.
I have duplicated the same text to your address. If you are interested, I can try somehow to translate the entire text of my story into English with grief in half. Although I warn you that I am very weak in English, and the translation is likely to be completely insane in every way.
This is the second frame-by-frame series of six.
II
The first harbinger of the coming visual nightmare
was an elephant for some reason coming straight out of the fog….
The hedgehog gave an inward gasp of astonishment and backed away,
carefully putting the oak leaf back.
“”What if this offering is to the horse’s liking?”,
the hedgehog thought timidly and walked through the mist to somewhere outside.
But the hedgehog was already beginning to shake violently inside,
just like that daft Hunter S. Thompson,
who four years earlier
chasing the phantom of his personal American dream.
The huge dark shadow of a bat swooped over the hedgehog’s head in a ringing frenzy:
“Fucking-fucking-fucking-fucking-fucking-fucking…!”.
He thought he was lost in reality,
when he was saved by the bravura grunts of his invariably sweaty travelling companion.
The sheer fucked-upness of what was happening exploded out from under the hedgehog’s feet
with a cloud of whitish moths that fluttered round him in a merry swarm.
It was so unexpectedly wild jolting,
that the hedgehog even mimicked the winged creatures,
by doing a silly dance.
Just then a lysergic eagle owl rattled over the poor man’s ear again,
“To-who, to-who-who-who-who! To-who! ”
and flew back into the fog,
where it continued to make its roulade-like noises.
The hedgehog finally came to his senses:
“Psycho,” he briefly diagnosed his obsessive companion and went on his way.
But the feeling of horror just wouldn’t let go.
The shadows of bats and the nameless horror of hallucinations behind his back squeezed the unhappy junkie with fear, and goosebumps ran down his needles.
No, there is something there, behind his back, realised the already spunky fear-ridden hedgehog.
Better to find out: What is it? – decided the sacrificial traveller with longing.
The hedgehog took a step towards his horror, finding a weighty branch in the grass.
The stick clattered against something wooden.
Alarmed and ready for the worst, the hedgehog stretched his paws along the branch towards what he had stumbled upon…
I’m sorry, I repeat – this is a frame-by-frame commenting text. It is best to read it while watching “Hedgehog in the Fog” at the same time.
Oh, that is interesting. Thanks so much for this commenting text!
The third storyboarded text series.
III
Fuck! What appeared to be woody was the tree itself!
A mighty and stately tree, like the very idea of the sephiroth that leaves its crown somewhere
in the Kabbalistic Keter.
“Fucking hell,” endless flashes of thought raced through the hedgehog’s mind, “that’s an ent!..
If that was the shepherd of the trees he’s went into stasis or died of sadness,
decided the little traveller.
The hedgehog walked round the giant, gawking at this marvel, and found a through hollow.
Staring into this gigantic hole, the hedgehog thought of something fabulously sublime, such as how the
how the elves had built their palaces in the Mallorns, or something like that….
The tree, which was again an oak, was covered with the same leaves that the hedgehog had seen before, and he thought again:
Can this be smoked?
But then he heard the call of the bear cub: “Hedge-hog!…”.
This distant call echoed majestically in the hollow trunk of the oak tree,
and little prick thought that the spirit living there might respond.
and he blurted out: “Aha!”
“Aha…,” the ent echoed his hollow…..
And the hedgehog suddenly remembered his mission!
The image of a little rag with raspberry jam and hemp buns crashed into his mind…..
But where is it?! – Pierced the hedgehog’s mind in mute horror.
Panic once again pierced his gut with anxiety, and the hedgehog began to thrash from side to side in despair…!
He didn’t even realise how it was that he had lost his little bundle.
He was flung in all directions,
floundering in space, searching the grass with his paws…
But the bundle was nowhere to be found.
And the poor stupefied animal broke down, pressing his head into his slumped shoulders.
“I’m lost!…,” rushed through his inner world.
And at the same time, the fog around him began to move,
blending into an impenetrable mess,
and it became positively incomprehensible: where to go?
But through this whitish haze
the hedgehog’s eyes recognised a firefly peacefully nestled on a blade of grass.
And in the blind hope of salvation he rushed out and plucked the blade of grass.
Like a magic lamp the hedgehog tried to light his way out of this enchanted place.
Like guardians walking in the darkness of Khazad Dum,
he wandered onwards between the majestic columns
of mighty trees drowned in mist.
But where to go, where to find the knot…?
The hedgehog realised himself as a lost and out of place substance in this enchanted place….
Doom became his name,
and there was no sign of the bag.
Another firefly flew up and, together with a fellow firefly,
which had fallen from a hedgehog’s blade of grass,
they fluttered off in a light-hearted flutter and flew away,
leaving our hero in utter prostration and desolation…
“Faggots,” remarked the hedgehog dully.
IV
And again the ominous fog thickened.
And again he – that wild, feathery, sweaty eagle owl – hovered over the hedgehog.
But now it was not parallel to him.
The infernal bird looked over his shoulder.
and pressed down on the prickly little fellow’s psyche with unbearable panic.
But no, it wasn’t even an eagle owl anymore!
A terrible hunch pierced the hedgehog’s gut:
He was being attacked by one of the mad owls that had flown right off Goya’s aquatint!!!
And he ran – anywhere –
just to get away from this nightmare!
But no, there was nowhere to run!
As an insane bird hooted on his shoulders,
the black shadows of the flying ghouls were diving in front of the hedgehog,
and again an elephant came out of the mist with his whole body…
Owl, mice, elephant…!
“А!.. – It roared inside the hedgehog, “Holy shit! А!..”
But somewhere, at the edge of his fading self, he caught the familiar “Hedge-hog!..”,
but…
А!.. An owl, mice, an oak leaf, a snail crawling towards Fuji….
The world was making its sacred and merciless orbit
over the remnants of the unfortunate addict’s mind.
In short, just a little more…..
and the kid’s consciousness would have been buried beneath a solid mountain of skulls like a painting by Russian artist Vereshchagin.
О! – it would have been the apotheosis of psychedelic warfare against his inner enemies!
Suddenly the bright and unreal face of the Jabberwocky appeared before the hedgehog.
The puffing creature cut through our lost boy’s former anxieties
like a film wolverine with a tin can.
The stunned hedgehog no longer feared anything.
What there was to be afraid of was gone.
The Jabberwocky sniffed at the hedgehog, sneezed and yawned,
revealing everything
that the hedgehog was looking in the well and the hollow tree.
The hedgehog even looked inside that womb to get a glimpse of It….
But, whoosh, the mouth slammed shut.
and someone unknown whistled the Jabberwocky back into the fog.
“This is fucked…,” our hero’s ability to think woke up.
Then he realised that the beast was coming back, and he floundered.
But too late, the Jabberwocky emerged just as swiftly.
and placed at the hedgehog’s feet the precious bundle.
Having favoured the stunned hedgehog with a hot breath,
the panting beast clamped the bag under the traveller’s arm with his teeth.
and disappeared into oblivion.
It was hard for the junkie, who had closed his eyes, to believe that he had found it.
Fearfully and nervously he groped the unexpectedly returned belongings,
and opened his eyes to the missing item held out in his paws.
I’m still somehow interested: How do you like this perception of a Hedgehog? I highly recommend watching the original and reading the text.
V
And then space erupted again with the refrain, “Hedge-hog!…”.
And he remembered:
and who he was, and where he was going, and why he was going, and about the horse for some reason…
And how he rushed to that shout, completely mad and crazy!…
And, of course, he immediately fell into the water.
And began to flounder to avoid drowning.
And his heart was so dead from all these shocks,
that at some point he didn’t care at all.
“I’m in the river,” realised the doomed little beast, “let the river carry me,
decided the hedgehog.
He took a deep breath and was carried downstream.
He floated on his back, mindlessly contemplating the night sky,
and clutching the treasured rag of goodies to his chest.
The stars above had already begun their mystical movement.
and the hour of epiphany was at hand.
Nearer and nearer, but more inaudible, the hedgehog heard the bear’s native voice: “Hedgehog!….”….
After all his experiences, he saw a horse’s head in the sky,
and thought ceased to have any significant weight.
The meaning of his hedgehog’s life was also devalued.
The mind of the tormented loser irresistibly and hopelessly collapsed into a hypnotic trance.
“I’m completely wet,” the hedgehog thought or unconsciously said aloud….
Suddenly someone touched his hind paw!
“Excuse me,” said the Someone silently, “who are you and how did you get here…?” –
“I’m a hedgehog,” he introduced himself
and stated the fact “I fell into the river”
“Then get on my back, and I will take you to the shore…”.
And so the barely perked up psychonaut
was already on the back of an unknown and inexpressible saviour.
and was hurtling down the river towards his mate, all sorts of good things and life itself.
What was the hedgehog thinking at those moments when he was holding the bag with the cherished gifts to his chest?
Maybe that he never reached Lud-in-the-Fog,
but becoming a true Latro, a warrior of the Fog,
that he escaped King’s Fog,
went beyond de Unamuno’s Fog,
and remained a living, enchanted wanderer?
And reflected in the stillwater, Ligudim –
noble, kind and all-knowing –
the notional Someone –
said goodbye: That life is beautiful and marvellous?..
Hedgehog will never tell anyone anything about it.
After a spectacular ride on the back of an unknown friend,
he disembarked and mumbled: “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” and went under the water again.
He disappeared somewhere in the halls of the universal simulacrum
Daniil Kharms, the craziest of the great Soviet storytellers,
to wait for lost souls
until the Second and Last Passacaglia of the Ainu with Eruhini.
The cheerful warm light of the kerosene lamp attracted the same swarm of whitish moths.
An old teapot lay on a wicker chair for some reason.
On the logs sat a tired completely foggy hedgehog,
clutching a goodie bag to his chest.
Nothing touched his soul.
So much so that he didn’t even notice how the puffing and panting bear cub came running towards him:
“Hedgehog! Where have you been? I called and called, but you didn’t answer”,
choking on his own breath, swallowed the words of the bear cub, who really wanted drugs.
“I’ve already blown up the samovar on the porch, and moved a wicker armchair,
so that it would be more convenient to count the stars…
So, I think, now you’ll come, we’ll sit down and drink tea with raspberry jam….
You’re bringing raspberry jam, aren’t you?..”.
The hedgehog somehow accidentally thawed out of lethargy and handed his friend a rag bag with hallucinogenic raspberry jam and marijuana buns.
But friend wouldn’t stop:
“And I’ve blown the samovar, and these twigs…
(“Juniper branches,” said the hedgehog.) –
…juniper twigs,” said the bear, cheerfully, “so that the smoke would be …
And… in… and… after all, who else but you will count the stars!!!”…”…
The little bear talked and talked… And the hedgehog thought:
“It’s all good that we are together again…”.
And the hedgehog also thought of the horse,
whose imperishable metaphysical image in the midst stood before his mind:
“How is she there, in the fog?..”
To make it clearer: Baltic tea in Russia during the October Revolution of 1917 and the Civil War was called a cocktail of vodka and cocaine. Branches and needles of juniper are still used by shamans of Eastern Siberia (in Khakassia and Tuva). It is a hallucinogen that shamans use to communicate with spirits.