Probably the most amusing thing about Woody Allen’s 1975 film Love and Death is how well it works despite practically hitting you over the head with how literate you need to be to get some of the best (and funniest) jokes. On the other hand, you don’t need to be a student of Russian literature or philosophy at all to nearly die laughing when Woody’s character, Boris, is trapped inside a gigantic lit cannon that rolls downhill during the big battle scene and fires him into a tent full of French officers, making him a temporary war hero of sorts.

There are a few other big laughs as well, but the bulk of the film’s humor springs from the one-two punch of Allen’s writing and flawless direction as he captures the moods of his put-upon characters as they go through their dramatically (and intentionally) dreary lives in 19th Century Russia. As bleak as that last sentence sounds, it’s one of Allen’s best comedies because it skewers its subject matter (and subjects) so well that you can’t help but laugh even when the worst is happening…

Taking cues not only from Russian history and writers, but snippets of (Russian and non-Russian) films from The Battleship Potemkin, The Seventh Seal and a few slapstick comedies for good measure, the film is so consistently amusing that even when things grow gloomy in a few spots, it’s only for the briefest of moments before a new set of laughs roll in like waves. During that battle mentioned above, there’s a hot dog seller and cheerleaders mixed in the the usual chaos of war you’d expect, and a quip from Boris that’s pretty hilarious about the battle looking much different to the generals from the safety of their tents away from the fray.

This is one of those movies that holds up to repeat viewings if only for the scenes of Boris’ courtship and eventual marriage to a distant cousin who really doesn’t love him. Sonja (Diane Keaton) and Boris spend their time debating constantly and their doomed relationship that eventually gets worse as Napoleon pushes his way into the country. Sonja wants the little dictator dead and of course, she wants Boris to do the deed. This leads to some more hilarity before and at a dinner party and eventually to the finale, which leaves Boris where he was at the beginning of the movie – telling his story the day of his execution.

You can’t watch this film at all and try to take it seriously, as Allen is playing 19th century Boris with his 20th century eyeglasses, jokes and mannerisms in full effect. Some of the jokes are of course, at his expense, but no one escapes here – not even the dead, not Death get a break when they show up. At only 85 minutes, Love & Death almost feels too short especially when compared to bigger, more serious epic films derived from novels such as Doctor Zhivago or War and Peace. Then again, I’d imagine a three-hour plus Woody Allen comedy would be too much for even his most ardent fans. That and you can only pull off that giant cannon gag once before it’s old hat…