The Death of Stalin Movie Review: How Satire Helps Explain History

“When tyrannical dictator Joseph Stalin dies in 1953, his parasitic cronies square off in a frantic power struggle to become the next Soviet leader. Among the contenders are the dweebish Georgy Malenkov, the wily Nikita Khrushchev and Lavrenti Beria — the sadistic secret police chief. As they bumble, brawl and back-stab their way to the top, the question remains — just who is running the government?”- Google Film Synopsis

The Death of Stalin

     Watching The Death of Stalin was a feast of fun and fact. The storyline was almost entirely historically accurate- with most deviations only being made for the sake of fitting multiple years into two hours- and yet Armando Ianucci (the Director/Screenwriter) managed to produce a comedy. That is impressive. 

     But why is it useful to implement comedy into what is, in reality, a period of corruption and distress? When you learn about history, you learn about the wars and the palaces, and the great inventors. It is always about what a person has done/had done to them, and not what they feel. (Of course, this is a generality, but it is a tad tiresome to always write in ‘not-quite-absolutes’). When you learn about Medieval peasants, you can only ascribe those  funny colourful engravings of  legging’d men to them. When you learn of Queen Vic, all you can see is a photo of a dour faced lady sitting stiffly on a couch. No emotion, no individuality. It’s true that we’re told the death toll of ancient wars, told the economic impacts of plague, and the social effect of art movements, but (unless you’re a real nerd) it doesn’t make you realize that those old peasants and Queens are just as Homo sapien as you or I. 

     So, you need comedy, because it is the immediate key to ‘relatability’ and ‘in-group status’. Like c’mon, don’t tell me you’ve never bonded with some stranger over a vine, or reel, or general funny event that’s unfolding before you!

Satire in TDoS

     I loved The Death of Stalin because it used comedy to highlight the exact follies and absurdities in the Soviet government at the time, that would have otherwise taken pages of academic essays to fathom. In this section, I will go over a few scenes that i think demonstrate this well :). 

Scene One: “Svetlana, SvetLANA, SVETLANA DEAR!”

     Summary: This scene occurs at the beginning of the movie, right after Stalin dies and Politburo is struggling to decide who will succeed him. Georgy Malenkov, Lavrenti Beria, and Nikita Khrushchev, all rather old and portly, are shown scheming in the woods with various other Politburo members. They hear Svetlana- the well loved daughter of Stalin- and start speed walking through the forest to be the first to console her. A chorus of “Svetlana dear!”’s, that could contend with a coyote’s evening concert, is heard ricocheting through the pine trees. 

     Satire: This scene is meant to be silly. The surface level joke is that it’s funny to see a bunch of old bureaucrats scheme like little children in the woods and then speed walk/waddle to some poor, grieving girl. There’s a juxtaposition going on: The solemnity and honour of academic men being contrasted with their movement and and lines.  

     This light, almost slapstick comedy has a deeper point, however; While this exact scene in the woods did not occur, Malenkov, Beria, and Khrushchev all did try to vie for Svetlana’s support to gain the support of the Soviet people. And isn’t that silly? For a politician to stay/gain power he must act like a fool and toady to other people of political import. They’re all playing a game, and those men would kill or kiss ass to any person to get power. 

     [Note: This is one of the only light humour scenes in this dark comedy  film. Highlights even more the import of this scene!]

Scene Two: “‘I demand my rights’ said the corrupt secret police chief ”

[TW: blood/death. Only watch if comfortable.]

     Summary: Khrushchev has managed to successfully finagle the support of Malenkov, the Politburo, and General Zhukov and deposed Lavrenti Beria (the chief of the NKVD who had been very close to becoming the next General Secretary). Beria is brought into a shed, with jeers from officers and politicians who played a role in the coup, and read an account of his crimes against the state. As he’s being dragged into the courtyard to be executed, an officer shoots him. Silence, and then everyone works to burn his body with no sadness. 

     Satire: There’s nothing funny about Beria being shot, no matter how awful he was, but there is a delicious irony found in his last words: “I demand my rights… Please don’t shoot me”. The tables have been turned on Beria, and we see how empty a person he is when he’s without power; He can’t stick to his ruthless moral code, and has no true allies. Who would have thought that the allies you bribed/terrified into loyalty weren’t that loyal when a bigger fish comes along :).  

     In the broader view, it shows how fickle and baseless the Soviet government really was. By Stalin’s death, unadulterated love of communist rhetoric and love of the Russian people had long since disappeared from the Party’s leadership. Malenkov, Beria, or even Khrushchev, wouldn’t have ruled for the people, or even their social class, but solely for themselves. 

Closing Thoughts

     The backstabbing, the chaotic distress, and the queer power plays all existed before Armando Ianucci (and the graphic novel of the same name) came around. All Ianucci did was embellish the material with comedy to enliven the absolutely crazy minds of the political elite in 1950s Soviet Russia. 

     This film’s genius, because even if you only read a textbook about Soviet history, all the humour would still be there. Less obvious, for sure, but ultimately the absurdities would remain unchanged. There are definitely a good few leaders I can think of today that are so good at being hypocritical (and plain incorrect) that they are walking satirical entities.

[all images courtesy of The Death of Stalin production team]