A distinctive art style amidst an uncensored and dark sense of humour gave old Soviet cartoons an element of creepiness and intimidation. Some people have already heard about the “kindness” and “instruction” that the USSR cartoons were all about. However, here we dig much deeper to represent the masterpieces of uncanniness that animated movies from the Soviet Union produced. Generally, these early cartoons were not just scary and still hold a special place in cinema for many reasons. Looking back on those days, we find that these cartoons were not necessarily associated with just kids, on the contrary, the leading animators detached their unwilling dark sense of humour, making them the opposite of family-friendly.

!!!CAUTION!!!

We know how you, our intrepid readers, are mature enough to face these intimidating scenes, but we insist on turning on at least a bedside lamp. This list contains some pieces which can reconcile even the most disagreeable of siblings, and have them cowering in each other’s arms in terror.

Take heed!

Tyll the Giant (1980)

Perhaps one of the most tragic movies on our list, full of chopped limbs and heads, trapped and crushed lives drowning in floods of interminable blood. Bursting with intimidating aesthetics complete with sounds of horror, the scenes of this film show us the ugly reality of how the pursuit of good can lead to the lives of people being destroyed in an instant. Tyll is a giant, or better said a hero, who answers people’s calls for help. Thankfully in Disney movies, such stories usually have a happy ending, but not this one. From the beginning, it is clear that Tyll’s life is filled with endless battles during which he slowly starts to lose everything that he honoured before — his family, his people and, finally himself. The moral of the story is sometimes acts of heroism can be gloomy.

Khalif-aist (1981)

Khalif-aist is a cartoon that refers to a particular type of masterpiece which leaves the viewer with a strong impression similar to trauma. The cartoon almost from the very beginning has an ominous atmosphere, something subtly mysterious and disturbing (and sometimes even unpleasantly disturbing), which is surprisingly tinged with oriental elegance. The ability of Soviet animators to screen foreign fairy tales in such a way that the screenings become independent works is astonishing.

The illustrated characters are distinctive and surreal. Beautiful figures admired by the main character—the Caliph—and in vivid contrast to them—mutant animals, capable of dreaming the most horrendous of dreams. Grown-up children still remember the moment that helped the Caliph and his companion break the terrible spell.

There is a lot of subtle, poignant, stirring music in the animated film. A real oriental fairy tale full of mystery and moralising.

There Will Come Soft Rains (1984)

The second half of the 20th century is well-known for its dystopian literature in the USSR as well as abroad. There Will Come Soft Rains is a film adaptation of Ray Bradbury’s novel, portraying a frightening reality in which the world recovers after a nuclear catastrophe. Depopulated cities, take on the guise of melancholy and dullness, as energy sources are stolen with the click of a button. A dead hushed house, where only meaningless sounds of machines can be heard still…A robot servant continues doing his daily work: making breakfast, setting the table, washing dishes…as the adults are left in ashes. Brr…

The Pass (1988)

Despite the gloomy artistic style, created by shimmering colours and psychedelic graphics combined with music as an ultimatum form of contact—this animated cartoon makes you shiver, leaving goosebumps on your skin. It is not an ordinary work with aliens, which was in demand in the sixties. On the contrary, The Pass by Vladimir Tarasov is a disturbing work featuring travellers who find themselves on a hostile planet trying to survive and stay sane. Eternal impenetrable night, abstract-geometric locations, unseen beasts and a musical montage with a gallery of alien postcards, which no matter how much you look at them, you can't comprehend what is drawn.

Hen, His Wife (1989)

The name of this cartoon speaks for itself. It will blow your mind with questions and anxiety, as the only element which is common to the human eye is a background filled with home appliances. The characters—a blue-skinned man, a caterpillar with a human face, a pale stranger and a woman covered with fears—are all a figment of feverish imagination. The same goes with all the interactions the characters make with each other—playing games, flooding a room, the awkward dialogues which can’t be missed. Despite the oddness and surrealism, the toughness of family life seeps through the screen.

From Left To The Right (1989)

The full name of the series is Frustration, which stands for the mental state, where one’s desires don’t meet one’s expectations traumatising the person. The strange beings move from left to right, continuously reforming and flowing into each other. There is a legend behind this cartoon, with some claiming that all illustrated creatures were drawn by patients from psychiatric hospitals. Without any doubt, the chances are high.

Delusion (1989)

Delusion is an animation by Olga Rozovskaya and Valery Pugashki, which is based on the Ukrainian folk tale Yazikata Khveska. It tells the story of a wise man who finds a treasure, but knowing his wife's irrepressible talkativeness, decides to manipulate events in such a way that the villagers think she has gone mad. From the very beginning, the cartoon is quite creepy, but at the same time witty and atmospheric.

If it were not for the disturbing entourage of scary skewed plasticine faces, restless rhythms, faded colour schemes, and folk chanting, the cartoon would be perceived as an ordinary folk tale. The author's reinterpretation of the story highlights it and makes it memorable.

Medved Lipovaya Noga (1990)

Medved Lipovaya Noga is an archetype of a folk fairy tale, which was filmed as a gloomy shadow theatre, filled with mysterious symbols. Among them are the cuckoo, which counts down the moments of life, and the clock mechanism that accompanies its counting.

In the plot of the tale, an old man and an old woman cunningly take possession of a bear's paw and bring it home. The mutilated wild animal, leaning on the trunk of a tree, finds the dwelling of its offenders. The carnage is nearing, but the bear is stopped by the crying of a baby in a cradle.

The cartoon is scary in that it has no music at all, only the alarming clanging of clocks, creaks, the clanking blades, the shrill crying of a child and the lulling sounds of a lullaby.

Potets (1992)

This cartoon was created towards the end of the USSR and released after the country's collapse—in 1992. Few cartoons in the world can compare with it in terms of oppressive atmosphere. The three sons take turns asking their father: "Tell us, father, what is potets?". Several times the father (a haggard character whose appearance makes it immediately clear that he is about to die) answers allegorically, but his sons do not understand. Finally, he gives them a clear answer: potets is the cold sweat of a dead man. The animated film is based on a poem by Alexander Vvedensky—a terrible philosophical parable. Here is not only horror but also deep meaning with many subtexts.

Hypnerotomahia (1992)

Hypnerotomahia is an extraordinary work by Andrey Svislotskiyi, which reveals grotesque humour, walking at times on the edge of decency and permissiveness. To be honest, what he did was just a harsh action of innovation, ripping and spitting on all the weakly produced psychedelic movies that came before. The word hypnerotomahia translates as the “strife of love in a dream”, while in the film the definition takes on an opposite meaning, illustrating closely “love’s strife with a dream”. Despite the shortness of duration, it gives you food for thought, as it permeates with Freudian symbolism. This work needs to be rewatched several times, not only to notice scrambled details but to understand its themes as a whole.