After eight years, writer/director Armando Iannucci has returned to the world of feature films (he's been busy the last few years working on the highly acclaimed HBO TV show Veep) with The Death of Stalin. Like his 2009 film In The Loop, The Death of Stalin is a dark farce comedy depicting people in positions of noteworthy political power acting scummy in the name of personal gain. Instead of coming off as merely reheated leftovers of In The Loop though, The Death of Stalin takes this basic concept and clearly charts its own terrain. This is a film with its own distinct personality to its name, one that aids greatly in making The Death of Stalin as highly humorous as it is.
Taking place in 1953, The Death of Stalin kicks off with Joseph Stalin's reign of terror very much being felt by the local populace, unjust arrests of citizens are made constantly, the country is in turmoil. Of course, for those, like Nikita Khrushchev (Steve Buscemi) and Georgy Malenkov (Jeffrey Tambor) who serve Stalin directly in his cabinet in the Russian government, life is much less dramatic, with classy dinners and American Westerns being the name of the game. But when Stalin passes away abruptly, the government is put into chaos as it's most powerful politicians realize that this is an opportune moment to advance their own agendas, such as Lavrentiy Beria (Simon Russell Beale) hoping to now slow down the amount of arrests and executions made in the country now that Stalin is no longer around to advocate so heavily for them.
Beria's actions don't sit well with other high-ranking members of the government like Khrushchev and Vyacheslav Molotov (Michael Palin) who begin to scheme up ways to grab more power in this volatile time. Taking these events and people who were all involved in a real-life period of horrifying authoritarianism and proceeding to use those elements as the basis for a comedy may sound like an odd decision, but anything can be fodder for successful comedy when executed properly and Iannucci certainly does just that with the material he's working with. Instead of diminishing the horrors perpetrated by Stalin and his cohorts, Iannucci's film is all about highlighting the likes of Khrushchev as selfish buffoons who had greater concern for their own social status than the well-being of the citizens of Russia.
The opening scene of The Death of Stalin sets the stage for just how well the entire movie will successfully filter real-world horrors into successful farcical dark comedy. This scene depicts a manager at a radio station overseeing a concert of Mozart music, a performance Joseph Stalin would very much like to see. Problem is, nobody recorded the concert. Knowing his life is on the line if he doesn't give Stalin a recording of this performance, the manager quickly calls back the performers as well as many of the audience members to come back so they can do the concert all over again. It's a situation straight out of a Marx Brothers comedy, but is it all that much zanier than the kind of actions committed by modern-day cruel authoritarian leaders like Kim Jong Un?
The fact that this scene manages to reflect the cruel reality of living under a ruthless dictatorship while also being an extremely humorous sequence on its own merits makes it a microcosm of the entirety of The Death of Stalin; highly thoughtful but also highly hilarious on just a surface level. The laughs keep coming at a steady pace as the plot proper gets going once Stalin kicks the bucket, an event that leads to the deliriously comical sight of numerous individuals like Khrushchev and Malenkov trying to carry Stalin's dead body as well as a moment where everyone tries to figure out what exactly a frail Stalin is trying to say by pointing to a classical painting of a woman feeding a goat.
These kinds of absurdist bits of dialogue-driven humor run rampant in The Death of Stalin, as do pieces of humor that pair up awkward manners of speaking or body language with these merciless followers of Stalin, the latter element being especially prominent in Jeffrey Tambor's performance. The screenplay (credited to Iannucci and three other writers) is an exceptional piece of work in a number of respects, but it's especially impressive how skilled it is at constantly cranking out new bits of comedy for the audience to laugh at. This type of thoughtful pacing that ensures there's a steady supply of comedy throughout the whole film can be seen in how one of the funniest characters, a brash general named Georgy Zhukov played by Jason Isaacs, doesn't make his unforgettable entrance into the proceedings until the third act.
Just like in the last Armando Iannucci feature film though, the performances in The Death of Stalin are especially winning. Steve Buscemi has had plenty of experiences with the world of comedy but his work here may be among my favorite comedic performance of his yet, especially since he smartly plays his take on Khrushchev in a more realistically restrained manner, which ends up making the numerous comical moments his character becomes a part of all the more humorous to watch. Buscemi's choice to play his character in a subdued manner reminiscent of what's considered conventionally dramatic acting is mirrored by other strong performances in the cast from the likes of Michael Palin and Simon Russell Beale. Merging the serious with the highly comical is a tall order, but it's a mixture the actors in The Death of Stalin, as well as the entire film, manage to do with remarkable success.
Beria's actions don't sit well with other high-ranking members of the government like Khrushchev and Vyacheslav Molotov (Michael Palin) who begin to scheme up ways to grab more power in this volatile time. Taking these events and people who were all involved in a real-life period of horrifying authoritarianism and proceeding to use those elements as the basis for a comedy may sound like an odd decision, but anything can be fodder for successful comedy when executed properly and Iannucci certainly does just that with the material he's working with. Instead of diminishing the horrors perpetrated by Stalin and his cohorts, Iannucci's film is all about highlighting the likes of Khrushchev as selfish buffoons who had greater concern for their own social status than the well-being of the citizens of Russia.
The opening scene of The Death of Stalin sets the stage for just how well the entire movie will successfully filter real-world horrors into successful farcical dark comedy. This scene depicts a manager at a radio station overseeing a concert of Mozart music, a performance Joseph Stalin would very much like to see. Problem is, nobody recorded the concert. Knowing his life is on the line if he doesn't give Stalin a recording of this performance, the manager quickly calls back the performers as well as many of the audience members to come back so they can do the concert all over again. It's a situation straight out of a Marx Brothers comedy, but is it all that much zanier than the kind of actions committed by modern-day cruel authoritarian leaders like Kim Jong Un?
The fact that this scene manages to reflect the cruel reality of living under a ruthless dictatorship while also being an extremely humorous sequence on its own merits makes it a microcosm of the entirety of The Death of Stalin; highly thoughtful but also highly hilarious on just a surface level. The laughs keep coming at a steady pace as the plot proper gets going once Stalin kicks the bucket, an event that leads to the deliriously comical sight of numerous individuals like Khrushchev and Malenkov trying to carry Stalin's dead body as well as a moment where everyone tries to figure out what exactly a frail Stalin is trying to say by pointing to a classical painting of a woman feeding a goat.
These kinds of absurdist bits of dialogue-driven humor run rampant in The Death of Stalin, as do pieces of humor that pair up awkward manners of speaking or body language with these merciless followers of Stalin, the latter element being especially prominent in Jeffrey Tambor's performance. The screenplay (credited to Iannucci and three other writers) is an exceptional piece of work in a number of respects, but it's especially impressive how skilled it is at constantly cranking out new bits of comedy for the audience to laugh at. This type of thoughtful pacing that ensures there's a steady supply of comedy throughout the whole film can be seen in how one of the funniest characters, a brash general named Georgy Zhukov played by Jason Isaacs, doesn't make his unforgettable entrance into the proceedings until the third act.
Just like in the last Armando Iannucci feature film though, the performances in The Death of Stalin are especially winning. Steve Buscemi has had plenty of experiences with the world of comedy but his work here may be among my favorite comedic performance of his yet, especially since he smartly plays his take on Khrushchev in a more realistically restrained manner, which ends up making the numerous comical moments his character becomes a part of all the more humorous to watch. Buscemi's choice to play his character in a subdued manner reminiscent of what's considered conventionally dramatic acting is mirrored by other strong performances in the cast from the likes of Michael Palin and Simon Russell Beale. Merging the serious with the highly comical is a tall order, but it's a mixture the actors in The Death of Stalin, as well as the entire film, manage to do with remarkable success.
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