Death nothing to laugh about
IN The Death of Stalin, you will find a political comedy so dark, the punchlines are all but blacked out. So be warned: while there is much to admire here, you may find little to be amused by.
The year is 1953. Moscow is in a state of shock. The Soviet Union’s ruthless leader, Josef Stalin, is dead.
Now the hunt is on for a replacement who can dish out the same levels of omnipresent oppression to 200 million people on a daily basis.
The power vacuum left by Stalin’s passing is stacked with suck-ups who have forgotten how to think for themselves, let alone for the good of the nation.
Intricately adapted from Fabien Nury’s graphic novel by hardline British satirist Armando Iannucci, The Death of Stalin shines strongly when its polished cast are free to let rip with withering wordplay.
However, even the most blinkered fans of Iannucci’s work — particularly the scathingly hilarious TV series Veep and The Thick of It — will be forced to admit that the laughs are too few and far between.
The Death of Stalin is certainly an intelligent movie, cleverly cornering a rare species of political animal that still roams the earth today (Vladimir Putin had the movie banned in Russia a few months ago).
However, it also can be an insular movie, often reveling in a joke it seems to be keeping from its own audience.