Лягушка, собака и дьявол / The Frog, the Dog and the Devil (Боб Стенхаус / Bob Stenhouse) [1986, Новая Зеландия, авторская анимация, VHSRip]



Лягушка, собака и дьявол / The Frog, the Dog and the Devil
Страна: Новая Зеландия
Жанр: авторская анимация
Год выпуска: 1986
Продолжительность: 00:06:56
Перевод: не требуется
Cубтитры: нет
Режиссёр: Боб Стенхаус / Bob Stenhouse
Описание: Бродяга обманывает бармена и разживается бутылкой виски. Затем садится на лошадь, отхлёбывает из бутылки и скачет куда-то в ночь. Однако, дармовая выпивка не идёт ему впрок...
Вольная фантазия по мотивам баллады Эрни Слоу "Призрак Годли (Дочь дьявола)".
Доп. информация: Гран-При фестиваля в Оттаве (1986)
Номинация на "Оскар" (1987)
Качество видео: VHSRip
Формат видео: AVI
Видео: 719 kbps, 512х384 (4:3), 25.000 fps, MPEG-4 Visual (XviD)
Аудио: 128 kbps, 44.1 kHz, 2 channels, MPEG Audio (MP3)


Complete name : The Frog, the Dog and the Devil (1986).avi
Format : AVI
Format/Info : Audio Video Interleave
File size : 42.8 MiB
Duration : 6mn 57s
Overall bit rate : 859 Kbps
Writing application : Lavf55.33.100
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Format : MPEG-4 Visual
Format profile : Simple@L3
Format settings, BVOP : No
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Codec ID : XVID
Codec ID/Hint : XviD
Duration : 6mn 57s
Bit rate : 719 Kbps
Width : 512 pixels
Height : 384 pixels
Display aspect ratio : 4:3
Frame rate : 25.000 fps
Color space : YUV
Chroma subsampling : 4:2:0
Bit depth : 8 bits
Scan type : Progressive
Compression mode : Lossy
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Stream size : 35.8 MiB (84%)
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Format version : Version 1
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Mode extension : MS Stereo
Codec ID : 55
Codec ID/Hint : MP3
Duration : 6mn 57s
Bit rate mode : Constant
Bit rate : 128 Kbps
Channel(s) : 2 channels
Sampling rate : 44.1 KHz
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Stream size : 6.37 MiB (15%)
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Interleave, duration : 26 ms (0.65 video frame)
Interleave, preload duration : 26 ms
Writing library : LAME3.99.5

Скриншоты c названием фильма


Текст оригинальной баллады

THE GODLEY GHOST (The devil's daughter)
Jack Skinner alone can surely boast
Of having seen the Godley Ghost;
'Twas way up in the Sardine Hut,
Where spooks and phantoms nightly strut,
For there, among the rocks and water,
He saw the famous Devil's daughter.
Now spooks, like fleas, they fear the light,
So to the hut they came at night.
Jack Skinner had just arrived, you see,
Back from Fairlie, on the spree.
And like all men, his happiness grew,
With some of Scotland's famous dew.
He danced with glee upon the floor,
When came a tap upon the door:
A visitor at this time of day?
A shepherd must have lost his way,
And opened wide Jack pulled the door,
Then staggered back with an awful roar.
He seized his gun for open slaughter,
There before him stood the Devil's daughter;
A female form before him stood,
Jack aimed and fired as quick as he could.
With smoking gun and failing light,
I'm sure he looked an awful sight.
'I've done for her,' he madly yelled.
His chest with pride and spirit swelled;
'All spooks I'll fight; all forms and sizes.
With whiskey good, my courage rises.'
But the night wore on with wind and rain,
When a tap came on the window pane.
Standing there, mid'st falling water,
Jack saw once more the Devil's daughter;
Two loud reports, a mighty crash,
That sent the window pane and sash.
And Skinner sank with eyeballs red,
Upon his old and trusty bed.
He prayed the Lord would send the light,
To end this most distressful night;
He stirred the fire, more light to keep,
And went to bed but not to sleep.
While resting on his cosy bed,
The wall was rapped above his head.
'I've been a John Hop in the Force,
I've steered erratic in life's course!
I've taken mad men to the cells,
I've flirted with pretty belles;
But never such a night I've spent,
With nerves and spirits badly rent.
Upon the hillside, cold and bare,
He saddled up the old grey mare;
"It's for my life I'll ride this race,'
He called for Phar Lap's mighty pace.
Pity poor Skinner in his plight,
As he rode out into the starless night.
He dashed o'ver rocks, through scrub and water,
But following fast came the Devil's daughter;
His spurs sank in like spearing fish,
His whip came down with an awful swish;
And from the mane right to the tail,
He rode for life - he couldn't fail.
With speed to burn, I'd not reward her,
But old Jack Skinner was working her harder;
He spied the lake of bluish water,
When upon his back sprang the Devil's daughter.
He called for help - he called afar,
He called for Hamilton's racing car.
The sheep, they scrambled up the rocks,
And wild birds flew away in flocks;
And birds that never flew before,
Flapped their wings, as off they tore.
He jumped the well -known station gate,
'Twas six foot high - he couldn't wait.
Dog kennels upset, and sheep dogs, too,
Flew at the sound of the hullabaloo;
And crashing through the door, half shut,
He galloped into the shepherd's hut.
Dave Sutherland shouted 'Earthquake! Fire!'
And out he dashed in his night attire.
The old mare's head through the window came.
For Skinner kept riding, might and main;
A crash of timber, an awful shout,
The old mare is through; the wall is out.
Dave Sutherland yelled out, 'Damn his eye,'
As the hut, it reeled, and then capsized.
Into the swamp and out again,
Jack wheeled his mare for the Glenmore plain;
Bruce Murray jumped out of his cosy bed,
'Sounds like an earthquake here,' he said.
The mules and horses madly fled,
The bull stood fair upon his head.
The Skinner made for the river water,
Racing for life from Devil's Daughter.
Once more he galloped for the station light,
And now he looked an awful sight.
His eyes they glared like balls of fire,
His hair stood up like fencing wire.
His moustache would clean a twelve-inch gun,
For Skinner then commenced to run;
He flattened the henhouse midst jolts and jars,
The roosters fled right to the stars.
With a mighty effort and plain sweat,
He upset the squatter's dining set.
Around the house, on a beaten track,
He went so fast he saw his back;
The shepherds rushed, but held aloof,
As Skinner climbed up on homestead roof,
As game as Kelly, and riding yet;
They hauled him down with a fishing net.
The falling at the squatter's side,
The Devil's daughter he defied;
'Oh thank the Lord,' he madly raved.
'Oh, thank the Lord, for I am saved.'
For Skinner didn't care a jot,
For he gulped down whiskey, piping hot.
Shepherds still swear, up in the snow,
You can hear those phantom roosters crow;
And travellers, as they pass that way,
Hear them crowing night and day.
And o'er the mountains, rocks and pools,
Three weeks were spent to find the mules.
The bull was found, all stiff and sore,
Just nineteen miles this side of Gore:
Some horses alas were never found,
Some say they're in the phantom pound.
So the boss gave out the following rules,
To shepherds, rabbiters, dogs and fools.
Employees make note and fear,
For whiskey is forbidden here;
For months of snow creates less slaughter,
Than a visit from the Devil's daughter.
But they say that whiskey often leaks,
Upon the well-known Godley Peaks.
But they mix it well with sparkling water,
To keep away the Devil's daughter.

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