Nick Rogers’s review published on Letterboxd :
We know we're in a fucked-up state of affairs when even Armando Iannucci and company are horrified in a way that won't allow them to rest solely on their loop-de-loop of profane putdowns. They haven't yet mastered the mixture of melancholy quite yet, but they do an admirable job emphasizing the ways in which jackals rise to power after one tyrant's death, how cowards will continue to capitulate, collaborate and convene in craven discord, and the moments when the chuckles turn into a coup. I've seen complaints about the lack of accents; pretty clear that it's trying to emphasize that this fuckery can happen (and has) anywhere. It's both Iannucci's "Dr. Strangelove" and, in a way, his "Grand Budapest Hotel."