You've probably seen that one clip on social media. The little wolf with the massive, soulful eyes sitting by a campfire. It looks like a fever dream, or maybe a memory of a childhood you never actually had. That’s Tale of Tales 1979, or Skazka skazok, and honestly, calling it a "cartoon" feels like calling the Mona Lisa a "sketch."
Directed by Yuriy Norshteyn, this Soviet masterpiece is widely considered the greatest animated film ever made. Not just by fans, but by actual historians and the Academy of Animated Film. It’s a messy, beautiful, non-linear trip through the collective psyche of the 20th century. It doesn't tell a story in the way Disney does. There’s no "Once upon a time" and there’s definitely no "happily ever after" wrapped in a neat bow. Instead, it moves like a dream.
One second you’re watching a baby being breastfed, and the next, you're looking at soldiers dancing with their wives before being swept away by the wind of war. It’s heavy.
What is Tale of Tales 1979 actually about?
Trying to summarize the plot of Tale of Tales 1979 is a bit like trying to grab smoke with your bare hands. It’s basically a meditation on memory. Norshteyn used a folk lullaby—the one about the "Grey Little Wolf" who comes to drag you into the woods—as the connective tissue. But the wolf isn't a monster here. He's more like a silent witness. A lonely, curious observer of human life.
The film jumps between different vignettes. There’s the poet trying to write under a flickering lamp. There’s a fisherman and his cat. There’s the haunting imagery of the "Great Patriotic War" (World War II), which left a permanent scar on the Soviet soul. Norshteyn grew up in that era. He remembers the empty courtyards and the missing fathers. You can feel that grief in every frame.
It’s about what we lose. It’s about the things that stay the same while the world breaks around us.
The insane craftsmanship of Yuriy Norshteyn
Look, we live in an era of CGI where everything is rendered to perfection. Tale of Tales 1979 is the opposite. It’s tactile. Norshteyn and his wife, the brilliant artist Francheska Yarbusova, used a technique called "multiplane animation."
Imagine several layers of glass stacked on top of each other.
On each layer, there are cut-out characters and backgrounds. By moving the glass and adjusting the camera's depth of field, they created a 3D effect without a single computer. They used real water, dust, and light. When you see the fog in the film, it’s not a digital filter. It’s actual smoke or vapor manipulated by hand.
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This gives the film a "shimmer." It feels alive. It feels dusty and ancient.
Norshteyn is a perfectionist to a degree that is almost terrifying. He worked on this 29-minute film for years. He famously gets into fights with studios because he refuses to rush. To him, animation isn't about moving drawings; it's about capturing the soul of an object. If a character moves a millimeter too fast, the magic is gone.
Why the Grey Wolf matters
Most people expect the wolf to be the villain. In the lullaby, parents sing to their kids: "Don't lie on the edge of the bed, or the grey wolf will come and grab you by the flank." But in Tale of Tales 1979, the wolf is the most human character. He tries to roast a potato. He looks at a baby with a mix of wonder and sadness. He’s the embodiment of the "inner child" or perhaps the "ancestral memory" that watches over us. He is the bridge between the world of myth and the harsh reality of 1940s Russia.
When the wolf steals the poet’s manuscript, it isn't out of malice. He's just trying to understand what we value.
The shadow of World War II
You can't talk about this film without talking about the war. There is a sequence that will stay with you forever. It shows couples dancing in a park to a scratchy tango record. Every time the music skips, a man disappears. One by one, the women are left dancing with ghosts.
Then come the telegrams. The "death notices."
They flutter down like autumn leaves. It’s a sequence that manages to be more devastating than any big-budget war movie. It captures the quiet, domestic horror of a generation of men simply vanishing. Norshteyn isn't interested in the politics of the Soviet Union here; he’s interested in the mothers and wives left behind.
This is why the film resonated so deeply across the globe. It’s universal. Whether you’re in Moscow or Manhattan, the sight of a flickering light in a cold room means the same thing.
Dealing with the "slow" pace
Honestly? If you’re used to YouTube shorts or high-octane action, the first five minutes of Tale of Tales 1979 might frustrate you. It’s slow. It breathes.
But that’s the point.
It forces you to sit with your own thoughts. It’s a sensory experience. You have to watch it in the dark. No phone. No distractions. You need to let the Bach music wash over you. You need to look at the textures of the old winter coats and the way the rain hits the windowpane.
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It’s often compared to the films of Andrei Tarkovsky. If you liked Solaris or The Mirror, you’ll get this. If you prefer Minions, you might find it baffling. And that’s okay. Not all art is for everyone, but everyone should at least try to see why this is considered the "Everest" of animation.
Common misconceptions about the film
A lot of people think this was a banned "underground" film. Not exactly. While the Soviet censors were often confused by Norshteyn’s lack of a clear "socialist message," he was still a celebrated figure. They didn't "get" it, but they couldn't deny the talent.
Another myth is that it’s a horror movie because of the wolf. It’s not. It’s a "nostalgia movie" in the truest sense of the word. The word nostalgia comes from the Greek roots for "homecoming" and "pain." That is exactly what this film is. The pain of trying to go home to a place that no longer exists.
How to watch it today
You can find high-quality restorations of Tale of Tales 1979 on various streaming platforms dedicated to art-house cinema, or even on YouTube through official archives like Soyuzmultfilm.
Don't settle for a grainy, low-res upload if you can help it. The detail in the textures is half the story. You want to see the individual hairs on the wolf's head. You want to see the grain in the wood.
Actionable ways to appreciate Norshteyn's work
If you want to dive deeper into this style of storytelling, here is how to approach it:
- Watch 'Hedgehog in the Fog' first. It’s Norshteyn’s other famous work. It’s shorter (10 minutes) and slightly more linear. It’ll prime your brain for his visual language.
- Research the Multiplane Camera. Understanding how they physically built the scenes makes the movement 10x more impressive.
- Listen to the music. The soundtrack uses Bach’s Prelude and Fugue in No. 8 in E-flat minor. Listen to it separately and see what images it conjures in your mind before you watch the film.
- Look for the "Overcoat" updates. Norshteyn has been working on a feature-length adaptation of Gogol's The Overcoat for decades. It's the most famous "unfinished" film in history. Checking in on its progress is a rite of passage for animation nerds.
Watching Tale of Tales 1979 isn't just about "seeing a movie." It's about calibrating your internal clock to something more human. It reminds us that memory isn't a straight line. It’s a mess of smells, sounds, and half-remembered faces. In a world that feels increasingly plastic, Norshteyn’s 1979 masterpiece feels like real, breathing life captured on celluloid.