Forest Burns In Epic “The Last King of Scotland” Performance

What began as a historical perspective on one of the most vicious dictators of our time turned into a vehicle for a brilliant actor due to the sheer force of Forest Whitaker. He captivated “The Last King of Scotland” from the first frame he was in, lifting a strong film into a very good movie while giving him a stage on which to display his prodigious talents.

Based on a landmark novel by Giles Foden, this movie was a portrayal of Ugandan general Idi Amin Dada as seen through the eyes of a fictional character, Scottish doctor Nicholas Garrigan (James MacAvoy). After initially travelling to the region as a way to escape his home life and try to effect some good in the world, Garrigan encounters Amin soon after he had ascended to power due to a coup and soon becomes a valued, trusted "advisor." Enlisting a fictional presence into a historical account can be a controversial, ineffective technique—perhaps the most damaging example coming in Oliver Stone’s “JFK”—but Garrigan’s usage here serves only to show the myriad sides and personalities of Amin, who remains largely misunderstood and mysterious to this day.

The tactic is one of many used in startling fashion by director Kevin Macdonald in his first feature film. Macdonald is a noted documentary-maker, and the film actually takes the form of a documentary at many points. A stunning soundtrack weaved itself perfectly throughout the film, allowing for a strong marriage of music and pacing. Macdonald also excelled in meshing scenes together to show various things going on at once, showing consciously and subconsciously how all is not as it may seem. The blending of a disarming Amin in rare form during a press conference at the same time that one of his wives, Kay (Kerry Washington), is found torn limb from limb and reassembled brutally created unforgettable imagery. The director also employed incredibly interesting camera work, building intensity through rapid focuses and quick panning methods.

Yet, right or wrong, everything extraordinary in this film is buried underneath the raw power exhibited by Whitaker. He is able to show the charming, humorous aspect of Amin, the optimism that was occasionally on display at the beginning of his reign. However, we quickly are shown cracks in the façade, indications that paranoia and possibly attention-deficit disorder dominate the man. While the self-effacing parts of Amin’s personality initially covered up the barbaric side, the dark part of the dictator gradually began to thrust aside the promising qualities. When we see Amin elevating assassins to positions of authority—Abby Mukiibi as Masanga, the fierce head of Amin’s brutal security force, is shudder-inducing in a stunning performance—we are forced to recognize the troubling undercurrents that are swirling more and more powerfully.

A Method actor, Whitaker immersed himself so deeply into the character of Amin that he admittedly dreamed that he was Amin, had trouble losing the East African dialect that he mastered and was reduced to repeatedly taking showers in an effort to literally and figuratively rinse the role off of him. To his credit, he threw himself into the role, refusing to enter into the portrayal with preconceived judgments or beliefs. In his pursuit of capturing the essence of the many-sided dictator, Whitaker learned Swahili, interviewed Amin’s family, read numerous books on the general and basically removed every barrier to violence within him that might inhibit him from “becoming” Amin for five months. The result was a staggering resemblance to Amin, in terms of stature, carriage and behavior, that was jarring to Ugandans who lived through the dictator’s regime. Justly, Whitaker won the Academy Award, a Golden Globe, a Screen Actors Guild Award, an NAACP Image Award and a BAFTA award for his efforts … hopefully, reward enough for half a year’s worth of a transition to a disturbed, murderous beast.

The book and film did not travel far enough down the bloody path to examine the roots of Amin’s violence or the death gasps that signaled the end of his rule. Amin was trained in the colonial British army and basically prepared to take over Uganda by the Brits. When he eventually grew beyond their grasp and lost control, the English did everything they could to distance themselves from his regime. His loss of stability is ably chronicled, along with the aspects of his regime that resulted in 300,000 — Amnesty International places the number at half a million — of his own countrymen being killed during his reign. However, we don’t see the connection that was built between he and the British culture, nor do we witness the downward spiral that resulted in his exile. Admittedly, following the story all the way until the end may have been too far-reaching and excessive, but one can’t help but wonder about the impact that his exile must have had on him.

The movie does document Amin’s decision to expel all Asians from Uganda, giving them 90 days to leave. The move was one of many reasons that the United States finally closed its embassy in Kampala in 1973, denouncing the brutality and horror of Amin’s regime. Amin’s erratic behavior eventually lead the Western press to detail him as a murderous ape and a caricature of himself. Amin’s arrogance and inability to have a finger on the pulse of his own countrymen backfired fatally when he ordered the invasion of Tanzania. Ugandan exiles joined the Tanzanian forces to storm Kampala in 1979, forcing Amin to flee to exile in Libya and, eventually, Saudi Arabia. In a last-gasp effort, he attempted to organize another Ugandan coup in 1989, but was thwarted and ordered to return to Saudi Arabia. A month before Amin’s death in 2003, one of his wives pleaded with Ugandan authorities to allow him to return to Uganda for his final days, but she was told that Amin would have to answer for his sins should he return. It would have been interesting to see the twist placed on this course of events by Macdonald, but the decision to conclude the film where he did was understandable as well.

All of the above is not meant to suggest that this is a perfect film. There were some scenes of sex and violence that could be construed as gratuitous, though a compelling argument could be made that the brutality of certain images was necessary to laying open the entire character of Amin. There were a couple of throwaway characters and some scenes that did nothing but add to the sense of urgency and show the overall debauchery of the climate and environment of the time; the merits of those scenes could be debated and argued in terms of excessiveness or essentiality to the story. The affair between Kay and Garrigan felt somewhat contrived as a means to demonstrating the depths of Amin’s sadistic side, even to those he supposedly loved.

Thanks to a governmental stance that involves basically pretending that Amin never existed, quelling interest in him and erecting barriers for natives seeking to learn more about him, sentiment and opinion about Amin within Uganda remain split. Apparently, one of Amin’s sons is working on a novel to counter the depiction put forth by Foden in his own book. In Uganda, the film has been applauded as remarkably accurate in some quarters and far too harsh on Amin in others. The movie does a terrific job of giving just enough detail in either direction to allow the individual viewer to make his or her own judgment. Whitaker’s flawless performance does more than enough to cover up some of the minor flaws inherent in “The Last King of Scotland,” making it easy to understand why it has been lauded as one of the most memorable pictures in recent memory and one of the finest historical portrayals of all-time.