Moscow, Jan 25 (EFE).- Dictatorships are often said to lack a sense of humor, and in today’s Russia that maxim has become increasingly literal.
After four years of war in Ukraine, joking about the government, religion or the conflict can land a comedian behind bars with a poorly timed punchline causing the same outcome.
Neither irony nor sarcasm is tolerated. Performers themselves warn that jokes touching on these subjects can even lead to the closure of a venue.

There is always an informer, an Orthodox fundamentalist or an “ultrapatriot,” ready to accuse a comedian of offending their sensibilities.
To these taboos is added another: any reference to the LGBT community, which has for years been designated “extremist” under Russian law.
Comedy in the Dock
As in Milan Kundera’s novel “The Joke,” humor can ruin a life. That is now the case for comedian Artiom Ostanin, who is on trial for jokes involving an alleged veteran of the “special military operation” and the figure of Jesus Christ.
According to Russia’s Investigative Committee, Ostanin crossed multiple red lines and now faces the prospect of several years in prison.
His defense argues that the disabled man he joked about never fought in Ukraine and has instead been begging in the Moscow metro for years.
The joke was made during a performance in December 2024 at a club in central Moscow.
Shortly afterward, an organization close to the Kremlin, The Call of the People, accused Ostanin of mocking a soldier “who lost his legs in the war,” according to the independent outlet Mediazona
Additional complaints were filed over a separate performance in March 2025, in which Ostanin allegedly insulted Jesus Christ.
Since the infamous “punk prayer” staged by Pussy Riot more than a decade ago, offending the feelings of believers has been punishable by imprisonment under Article 148 of the criminal code.
“I only informed people. And do you know what they did? They crucified me,” Ostanin quipped, another joke that can still be found on YouTube.
Accused of leading a “criminal organization,” the comedian attempted to evade prosecution but was arrested in Belarus, where his lawyers claim he was severely beaten by police.
A Character as a Threat to Morality
The moral absolutism of Russia’s most radical circles has even reached one of the most beloved children’s characters of the Soviet era and modern Russia: Cheburashka.
A recent film about the innocent, big-eared creature, who survives on oranges, has drawn the ire of censors, who denounce it as an act of “sabotage” against traditional Russian culture.
“Cheburashka disintegrated the USSR (…) He is a rootless cosmopolitan,” said Alexander Dugin, the ideologue of Russian ultranationalist pan-Asianism, echoing Stalin-era rhetoric.
Little is known about the character’s origins beyond the fact that he is not Russian.
Critics speculate he could be Jewish, since the USSR imported oranges from Israel, or possibly Spanish, the language spoken by those pursuing Cheburashka at the beginning of the story.
Despite the film’s commercial success, it became a box-office hit, like the original created more than 50 years ago, the cultural committee of the State Duma met in mid-January to address the controversy.
Lawmakers criticized the filmmakers for focusing solely on “making money.”
They complained that Cheburashka is the only positive character and that the film fails to promote “moral values,” in line with the conservative principles championed by President Vladimir Putin
“One must forget what the people think (…) What appears on screens makes a lot of money, but it has nothing to do with cinema or art,” said actor Dmitry Pevtsov, a supporter of what critics describe as a McCarthy-style witch hunt in the cultural sphere.
Naivety Versus Wartime Heroism
Some film critics have come to the filmmakers’ defense, urging authorities to take pride in the movie’s success instead of threatening to ban a work that has sparked renewed interest among young people in Soviet culture.
They argue that what truly irritates the film’s detractors is that it is a comedy that avoids portraying the Kremlin’s enemies or the war in Ukraine, subjects that dominate state-approved cinema and that audiences increasingly find tiresome.
“Cheburashka symbolizes humanism, kindness and non-violence—qualities that clash with today’s ultra-conservative ideological trend,” critics say. “He represents a possible path for Russia: the path of goodness, not that of perpetual struggle.” EFE
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