Devil’s Bride, The (Blu-ray Review)
Director
Arūnas ŽebriūnasRelease Date(s)
1974 (September 16, 2025)Studio(s)
Lietuvos Kinostudija/Goskino (Deaf Crocodile Films)- Film/Program Grade: B
- Video Grade: B+
- Audio Grade: B
- Extras Grade: B+
Review
The Lithuanian rock opera (hold that thought) The Devil’s Bride opens with a title card that sets the stage for the film by relaying an old Lithuanian folk legend:
“Once upon a time the angels committed a sin against God, and for three days the Heavens hailed with the devils. The lakes were full of devils, and when they fell upon the earth, they accosted the people there.”
The opening shot of the film sets the stage on a far more literal level, with a sleepy God sitting on his throne surrounded by his adoring angels, and the entire image surrounded by a picture frame to emphasize the fairy tale nature of the tableau. But then the camera pushes into that picture frame, entering the otherwise pastoral setting in order to show that everything isn’t quite what it may have seemed on the superficial level. That’s because if the adoration of God’s flock has become a little boring for him, it’s no less boring for them. They long for a little fun, so they’re secretly sneaking in some earthly pleasures like food and drink when they’re supposed to be praising their Lord. Eventually, the situation devolves into an open bacchanal that finally wakes God from his stupor, and he banishes them to earth. These fallen angels will become the devils who afflict mankind, with one of them in particular becoming the main character who will become the focus of the story of The Devil’s Bride.
Of course, that basic setup isn’t just derived from a Lithuanian folk legend, it’s also derived from a staple of Christian mythology: the fall of Lucifer and the subsequent rise of Satan as an opposing force in spiritual warfare—although to be fair, it’s worth noting that the Lucifer/Satan tradition didn’t exist in early Christianity, but rather developed later by uniting passages from otherwise disconnected biblical texts. So, it’s safe to say that the inspirations for The Devil’s Bride range far and wide, but there’s still another primary source: the 1945 fantasy novel Baltaragis’s Mill by Lithuanian writer Kazys Boruta. (Oh, and also the Andrew Lloyd Webber/Tim Rice rock opera Jesus Christ Superstar, but patience, gentle reader, we’re getting there.)
All of that is still just the prologue to The Devil’s Bride, but it does introduce the most important character: Pinčiukas (Gediminas Girdvainis), a devil who falls to earth and is immediately captured by mill owner Baltaragis (Vasilijus Simčičius). Baltaragis wants to turn Pinčiukas into his personal servant, but devils being devils, Pinčiukas turns the tables by trapping Baltaragis in a Faustian bargain: Pinčiukas will indeed serve Baltaragis and even help secure the beautiful Marcelė (Vaiva Mainelytė) to be his wife, but in exchange, Pinčiukas will get to marry their daughter. Devils once again being devils, Marcelė dies shortly after the birth of their daughter Jurga (Vaiva Mainelytė, in a dual role), starting a war of wills between the master and his supposed servant, with Baltaragis even trying to trick Pinčiukas into marrying his ugly sister Uršulė (Regina Varnaitė) instead of his daughter. As the conflict heats ups, the townsfolk get involved, but any potential tragedy is averted by an intervention from an unlikely source.
It’s a tale that fits comfortably into traditional folklore, but what sets The Devil’s Bride apart is how the story and dialogue is delivered: entirely through music. The phrase “Lithuanian rock opera” might sound strange to western ears, but it describes The Devil’s Bride perfectly. Inspired partly by Jesus Christ Superstar, director Arūnas Žebriūnas and composer Vyacheslav Ganelin took the somewhat dour Kazys Boruta novel and transmogrified it into a vibrant musical where the energetic visuals and the propulsive songs provide constant forward momentum. There’s no conventional dialogue in The Devil’s Bride, with everything being sung or else delivered as singsong recitatives. In fact, The Devil’s Bride is so full of life and vitality that something had to give, and what ended up going by the wayside was the tragic ending of the book.
Like Jesus Christ Superstar, which made Judas sympathetic by turning him into an understandably disillusioned follower of Jesus rather than the villainous son of perdition, The Devil’s Bride doesn’t treat Pinčiukas as the antagonist of the story (if anything, that role goes to Baltaragis, since all of the bad things that happen are his own damned fault). Pinčiukas is sympathetic in his own way—he’s not actively trying to create mischief, but just wants eternal happiness for himself and he’s willing to do whatever necessary in order to achieve it. His actions do result in the story taking a turn into folk horror, but with a perverse twist on The Wicker Man: this time, it’s the devil who is the potential sacrifice. Yet he’s rescued at the last minute before going up in flames, and his own personal savior helps him find the happiness that he craved—even if it’s not the kind that he expected. God moves in a mysterious way, even where fallen angels are concerned, and the devil does indeed find his bride in The Devil’s Bride. It may not be the one that he wanted, but at least it’s the one that he deserves, and maybe they can find eternal happiness together after all.
Cinematographer Algimantas Mockus shot The Devil’s Bride on 35mm film using anamorphic Sovscope lenses, framed at 2.39:1 for its theatrical release. This version is based on scans that were done by the Lithuanian Central State Archive in 2015, with digital cleanup and grading performed by Madstone digital post-production studio. There’s no indication of what elements were involved, but it may not have been the camera negative since there’s not a lot of shadow detail visible in the darker portions of the image—there’s a dupey look to the proceedings. The contrast range is generally fine, but it does suffer a bit in low-light situations like the attic of the mill. On the other hand, there’s no significant damage to report, and it’s been encoded flawlessly by David Mackenzie at Fidelity in Motion.
Mockus had access to real Kodak negative stock for the film, instead of the usual Soviet-produced stocks, and he took full advantage of that fact in order to push the saturation levels to their limits. The stylized sets, set decoration, and costume designs in The Devil’s Bride emphasize oranges, yellows, and reds, and Mockus’ lighting enhanced the overall yellow/orange look. It’s not really a color cast since the greens and the blues still look accurate, but everything else is bathed in an orange/yellow glow that does affect the skin tones at times (although that seems quite intentional). It’s a striking look that’s perfectly appropriate for a fairy tale story like The Devil’s Bride.
Audio is offered in Lithuanian 2.0 mono DTS-HD Master Audio, with removable English subtitles. Everything sounds clean and clear, and while the music may lack some sparkle on the top and real depth to the bass, it still maintains the energy that a rock opera like this requires.
The Deaf Crocodile Films Limited Deluxe Edition Blu-ray release of The Devil’s Bride includes a 60-page booklet featuring essays by Alexandra Heller-Nicholas, and Walter Chaw, as well as production photographs and artwork. Everything comes housed in a rigid slipcase featuring new artwork designed by Beth Morris (there’s also a J-card slipcover). Note that Deaf Crocodile is also offering a Standard Edition that omits the booklet and the slipcase. The following extras are included, all of them in HD:
- Commentary by Michael Brooke
- “The One Who Carries a Tune”: Rock ’n Roll Sessions and The Devil’s Bride (13:34)
- Interview with Arūnas Žebriūnas’ Daughter Monika Edgar (54:30)
- Interview with Ieva Šukytė (53:27)
Micheal Brooke is an undeniable expert on Eastern European cinema, and if anyone is going to bring the receipts to a commentary track on the subject, it’s Brooke. In this case, one of his main sources was Žebriūnas’ biographer, but he pulls in information from other sources as well like the original novel. Brooke provides a history of Soviet musicals, comparing and contrasting the earlier ones to The Devil’s Bride. The fact that it’s sung throughout was relatively unusual, and Žebriūnas insisted that there always be some kind of motion in every frame. As a result, the film is far breezier than the novel, which had a much more tragic tone (especially the ending). Brooke discusses the process of adapting the book, and also breaks down the locations used in the film, the actors involved, and the singing voices (a few of the actors were dubbed). He also points out some in-jokes and cultural details that would be too obscure for most western audiences. It’s a great track that really enhances the experience of watching The Devil’s Bride.
“The One Who Carries a Tune”: Rock ’n Roll Sessions and The Devil’s Bride is a visual essay by Dr. Will Dodson and Ryan Verrill of The Disc-Connected. They open with a brief history of Lithuania to provide context, including the immediate effects of Soviet control and Lithuanian rebellion against it. They also delve into the Lithuanian film industry and the making of The Devil’s Bride; the differences between the book and the film; and the way that its themes and style flew in the face of Soviet ideology, especially their insistence on Socialist realism.
Deaf Crocodile has also added two interviews for this release, both of them conducted online by Dennis Bartok. The first is with Arūnas Žebriūnas’ daughter, Monika Edgar, who provides a nice overview of her father’s life and career, including their family history and the effects that post-war Lithuanian history had on all of them. It was the political chaos of the times that influenced Žebriūnas to start dreaming and move into fantasy filmmaking (although his love of basketball kept him grounded!) Edgar also breaks down the making of The Devil’s Bride, at least from her perspective, and explains why she never worked for him directly (although she did visit the set).
The second interview is with Lithuanian critic Ieva Šukytė, who describes her background and how her own love of fantasy filmmaking developed (Harry Potter helped). She offers a broad overview of the Lithuanian film industry past and present, including a variety of different filmmakers, but the focus is still on Žebriūnas and The Devil’s Bride. She helps clarify the nature of the story by explaining that the devils in Lithuanian folklore weren’t as bad as the version from Christianity; they helped those in need and only punished the bad. Bartok also explains how the film was brought to Deaf Crocodile’s attention, which is interesting because it wasn’t a film that that had been on their radar.
Fortunately, whoever gave Deaf Crocodile the tip about The Devil’s Bride couldn’t possibly have made a better choice, because Deaf Crocodile has become the go-to label for Eastern Bloc fantasy filmmaking and animation. Quite a few other categories as well, but there’s no doubt that Eastern European cinema is near and dear to the hearts of everyone involved with the label. This is yet another great release of a film that you may not have heard of previously, but you’ll never forget it once you’ve seen it. Add in a solid slate of extras, and you have another winner from Deaf Crocodile. Highly recommended.
-Stephen Bjork
(You can follow Stephen on social media at these links: Twitter, Facebook, BlueSky, and Letterboxd).