A brilliantly made and relevant political satire that is all too true, The Death of Stalin is a timely reminder about the crimes and corruption of a tyrannical government, told with dark wit and intelligent commentary.
In these days of fashionable Socialism, too often, too many, forget about the crimes of numerous Communist governments, especially that in the former Soviet Union. From 1992 to 1991, especially when under the role of Joseph Stalin, millions were persecuted, jailed or murdered for their ethnic, political or religious beliefs. Forget about alleged tampering with elections. This was Russia at its worst.
So how to make a comedy of such a thing? Well, just like Dr Strangelove did with nuclear war, and Four Lions with terrorism, you do so with an intelligent wit and the truth by your side. So it goes with The Death of Stalin. Based upon the French comic book by Fabien Nury and Thiery Robin, The Death of Stalin is directed and co-written by Armando Iannucci, whose previous credits (In the Loop, Veep) speaks to his credentials in tackling such material. Yet what Iannucci does with The Death of Stalin is, arguably, even more impressive, considering the dark period of history in which the movie is set.
That period is 1953, as Stalin lies dead after suffering a cerebral haemorrhage. Waiting in the wings to take Stalin’s place as head of the USSR are members of his central committee. Among them the ruthless Lavrenti Beria (Simon Russell Beale), the manipulative Nikita Krushchev (Steve Buscemi), and the oblivious Georgy Malenkov (Jeffrey Tambor). The extent in which Beria and Krushchev particularly try to outwit one another in the race to power, is brilliantly written and performed, straddling the line between deadly serious and riotously hilarious.
The performances from an excellent cast deliver. Lauded stage actor Simon Russell Beale brings that sadistic, intimidating presence needed to make his deliverer of death Beria a man to be feared. Meanwhile Steve Buscemi brings his fast-talking shtick to the role of a master manipulator with an ease than engrosses and entertains. Notable mention must also go to a barely recognisable Andrea Riseborough as Stalin’s daughter, and Jason Isaac who comes on like a house on fire as Soviet war hero Georgy Zhukov.
The biggest star of The Death of Stalin is Iannuci. Ever since his work on popular BBC series The Thick of It, the Scottish writer and director has cornered the market in political satire. Yet The Death of Stalin is a different beast: bigger, much more historical, and with the thick stench of death and fear permeating throughout. After all, this is a film about monsters, yet Iannuci successfully turns these monsters into the pathetic miscreants they were. Much strength can be found in that.
