In the Soviet Loop

Armando Ianucci loves political incompetence. He’s based two whole T.V. series around it: The Thick of It and its American cousin Veep -through which he’s covered corruption, scandal and spin doctoring, and developed one of the sharpest voices of satire in the medium. But as for film, he’s had less experience. The Death of Stalin is his first since 2009’s In the Loop, an adaptation of his former series. However this film, centred around the commotion and power struggle in the Soviet government in the aftermath of Stalin’s death, shows Ianucci’s just as comfortable and effective as he’s always been.

When Joseph Stalin dies suddenly of a cerebral haemorrhage in 1953, it’s left to his Central Committee to figure out what to do next. As Stalin’s deputy, the weak-willed Georgy Malenkov (Jeffrey Tambor) succeeds him as General Secretary, but the other ministers have their own plans; from the reformative Nikita Krushchev (Steve Buscemi), the sadistic Lavrentiy Beria (Simon Russell Beale), and the fiercely Stalinist Vyacheslav Molotov (Michael Palin). Each soon make their power plays to keep the union and communism afloat, all while having to maintain appearances in light of their leaders’ passing.

The writing is this movie’s biggest strength, which is unsurprising to those familiar with Ianucci’s work. Though the plot deals with political intrigue and corruption it’s largely conveyed through conversations, awkward exchanges, and petulant bickering. There are a lot of fun arguments, some of which are so unruly and vicious I half-expected Malcolm Tucker to show up. The movie is an exercise in political cynicism too, which none do better than Ianucci. Like in his other projects, most of the politicians are portrayed as temperamental or idiotic, with little real regard for the people they govern. Everyone is acting out of selfishness or pettiness. Sure Beria’s the worst of the bunch, but Krushchev isn’t that nice a guy either. Two others, Mikoyan and Bulganin are little more than school-yard delinquents, and even Molotov is way too willing to sell out his own wife as a traitor. And the ludicrousness of all this is set against real terrors. The film doesn’t let you forget the environment of fear and control in the Soviet Union at the time, with many civilians being rounded up for interrogation, torture, or execution by the NKVD. A common reference in the film is Stalin’s popular list of enemies. Through this is a serious intent of the film, and a conscious commentary. Most of us aren’t living in situations like 1950s Russia, but the political manoeuvring, immature behaviour and seeming ineptitude of some the officials with the most national power is recognizable. Given Ianucci’s recent focus on Veep and his love of lambasting the unapologetically unscrupulous, it’s not hard to see parallels with the U.S. government for instance. With that allegory, this movie is just as cathartic to watch as it must have been to write.

But the other area this movie is really terrific in is its casting. Though not starring the most recognizable of faces, it’s an ensemble that’s full of actors just right for their parts. Steve Buscemi is always fantastic when given the right material, and he fits perfectly in this world. Yeah, Krushchev is written a bit more towards Buscemi’s strengths of sarcasm and rancorous rapport (all of these figures are clearly exaggerated to some degree), but it’s terrific to watch. Stage actor extraordinare Simon Russell Beale is incredibly vile and having a lot of fun with it as Krushchev’s nemesis, and Jeffrey Tambor makes for a really good ignorant puppet. The great Michael Palin, who hasn’t been in a movie in years, is perfectly at home as this Python-esque figure following Stalin’s example like the bible. The other committee members are played really well by Dermot Crowley, Paul Chahidi, and Paul Whitehouse, and it’s wonderful to see the hilarious Whitehouse on screen again too. Andrea RIseborough and Rupert Friend play Stalin’s mourning daughter and eccentric son respectfully, each getting some great moments, but Friend especially has the chance to show off some superb comedy. Jason Isaacs shows up late in the film as a memorably cheesy military commander Georgy Zhukov and is the best part of most of his scenes. The film also features Olga Kurylenko, who’s really good as a pianist with a hatred for Stalin, and Paddy Considine as the radio broadcaster absurdly attempting to re-stage a live recital just because the General Secretary wants a recording of it.

The graphic novel this movie’s based on, La morte de Staline by Fabien Nury and Thierry Robin I have a hard time believing is quite as sharp as this movie. It certainly takes a few liberties with history, as any story would under a very stylized writer-director, and has unsurprisingly been banned in Russia for "promoting ethnic and social inferiority". But don't let that deter you. It's an entertaining and engrossing satire, one of the best in years, written with brilliant pointedness, even sincerity, and performed by an absolutely riveting ensemble. If anything, it makes you want to research the real aftermath of Stalin's death. Given the long and recent history of politics alike, it very well could have been just as ridiculous.