Dikaya Okhota Korolya Stakha
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DIRECTED BY: Valery Rubinchik
FEATURING: Boris Plotnikov, Elena Dimitrova, Albert Filozov, Roman Filippov, Valentina Shendrikova, Vladimir Fyodorov
PLOT: Andrej Bielarecki (Plotnitkov), a folklore scholar, arrives at the Janowski family castle in the Belarusian Swamp Firs region in 1900. Nadzieja (Dimitrova) is the last representative of her family, which is supposedly under a generational curse due to her ancestor killing King Stakh, a 15th Century nobleman who still roams the area with his retinue in a Wild Hunt. Bielarecki finds himself caught up in murders apparently committed by King Stakh and his retinue.
COMMENTS: The term “folk horror” has become a huge umbrella, providing a niche for discovery and rediscovery of quite a few movies, which is a good thing overall. But it’s beginning to become exhausted, often used as a marketing gimmick for horrors with relatively minor folk elements. That isn’t the case, fortunately, with King Stakh. Its folk horror bona fides are right in the title, referencing the folkloric motif of The Wild Hunt. Based on the novel King Stakh’s Wild Hunt by Belarusian author Vladimir Karatkievich (who collaborated on the screenplay with Rubinchik), Stakh uses the trappings of folklore and horror (the visuals are very atmospheric, shot by Tatyana Loginova with production design by Aleksandr Chertovich) to support what is ultimately, in the end, a mystery/historical incident with political undercurrents.
Deaf Crocodile brings out Stahk in a new restoration, in a standard or limited deluxe edition, for its first ever U.S. release (the deluxe edition is in a hard slipcase with a 60 page booklet with essays by Walter Chaw and Peter Rollberg). Fittingly, there is an introduction by Kier-La Janisse, who included Stakh in her 2021 documentary Woodlands Dark and Days Bewitched: A History of Folk Horror. There are two complementary commentaries: Steven R. Bissette’s talk goes a bit more into the director and actors, while Mike (“The Projection Booth”) White touches on the book and reacts more to the onscreen action. Also included is a video essay by film historian Evan Chester.
