Stalinist film ‘Ivan the Terrible’ is echoed by Trump, Musk

Photo: Screenshot of Ivan the Terrible.

I never expected to spend my evening watching Ivan the Terrible, Sergei Eisenstein’s two-part Soviet epic from 1945, yet somehow, the chaotic state of our modern world led me there.

Commissioned by Comrade of Comrades Joseph Stalin, this black and white movie is a stylized, operatic portrayal of the legendary tsar who consolidated autocratic rule over all the Russias in the 16th century.

Though the first part of the film was celebrated, the second part was banned for its unflattering depiction of Ivan’s paranoia and purges—too close to mirroring Stalin’s own reign of terror.

As I sat watching the stark dark-and-light cinematography, the dramatic shadows, and the tortured expressions of Ivan and his boyars, I couldn’t help but draw the unsettling parallels between the Stalinist messages of the movie and the political chaos unfolding under President Trump and Elon Musk—who now seem to wield American imperial power in disturbing tandem.

Considered one of the best films ever made in world cinema, Ivan the Terrible exalts the idea of a singular leader, chosen by destiny, whose harsh methods are necessary to consolidate power and crush internal enemies.

Stalin saw himself in Ivan, a ruler forced into cruelty by the treachery of the elite. Eisenstein’s depiction, particularly in its first part, plays into this justification of tyranny—painting Ivan as a misunderstood visionary who must break the backs of the untrustworthy nobility to unite Russia.

Sound familiar?

In the America we now live in, Trump and Musk have similarly cast themselves as Ivans—embattled figures, besieged by modern boyars, the elites and so-called “deep state.”

Trump thrives on the narrative of betrayal—whether by former allies, the judiciary, or the “rigged electoral system.”

All the while, Musk is entrenched in positions of massive influence ranging from space to artificial intelligence to social media. He positions himself as a maverick, a disruptor facing down the corrupt establishment.

Both of these modern Ivans share a mythology of persecution that fuels their grip on power, much like Stalin’s need to see himself in Ivan.

The second part of Ivan the Terrible, which Stalin despised and banned from being seen, exposes the dangers of this mindset.

Ivan’s descent into paranoia leads him to purge his closest allies—he even says he never had any real friends—and terrorize his own people.

Maybe we haven’t gotten to this part of the modern story yet?

The cinematography shifts, becoming more grotesque, more theatrical, as his rule spirals into unchecked cruelty.

It even shifts briefly into technicolor with eerie carnivale-like music and movements—impressing on us a cultish revelry.

Cultish grotesquerie.

Stalin, of course, could not stomach such an unflattering reflection.

But today, we are living through our own version of this unchecked consolidation of power and cultish grotequeurie.

Trump has openly called for the imprisonment of his opponents and his second presidency is already marked by vengeance and authoritarian restructuring.

Musk, through his monopolization of key technological sectors and his influence over information flow, is positioning himself as a kind of tsar of the digital and economic world.

Together, their ambitions and unpredictability create an environment of instability, one where institutional checks erode and power amasses in the hands of the few.

This is exactly what happened in Ivan’s Russia.

As I finished the film, I couldn’t shake my anxiety over the future of this country.

Ivan the Terrible reminds us that autocrats do not appear overnight; they build their power through narratives of betrayal and necessity, convincing their followers that only they can save the nation.

Stalin saw a justification for his own rule in Ivan’s story.

Trump and Musk, in their own ways, are constructing a new version of this justification—one that fuses nationalist fervor, technological supremacy, and political vengeance into a force that threatens democracy itself.

Watching Eisenstein’s disturbing masterpiece from nearly eighty years ago, I was struck by how history does not merely repeat, but rhymes, echoing through time in unsettling new forms.

And I wonder: if we do not recognize the warnings, will we too, like Ivan’s subjects, come to accept the shadow of tyranny as inevitable?