"The Last King of Scotland" is a slickly made powder keg of a film about Idi Amin's (Forest Whitaker) horrific dictatorship over Uganda in the 1970's as seen through the eyes of his fictionalized Scottish doctor (James McAvoy). Whitaker is mesmerizing from the word "go" and brilliantly displays how captivating a character Amin was: charming, theatrical, paranoid, and mad as hell.
Director Kevin MacDonald only alludes to the horrors (300,000 massacred) while delivering a music-video style account of the free-wheeling decadence of Amin's regime while he still played in favor to his people. Much of the film runs like the early parts of P.T. Anderson's "Boogie Nights" or any gangster saga from Scrorsese: hyper-edited, smoothly shot scenes depicting humor, violence, sex, nudity, and overly-indulged individuals new to money and power. It would've been more compelling had tighter focus been paid to Amin instead of the highly unlikable doctor character, who for the most part comes across as a flighty, over-educated twit with foggy ideas on good deeds and uncontrollable hormones that lead him to hounding after every marginally attractive married woman he comes across, including a barely recognizable Gillian Anderson donning a British accent, and Kerry Washington as Amin's third wife (duh, doc!).
About two-thirds of the way through, MacDonald lets Whitaker loose, and his rampage is awe-inspiring. It culminates in a pulse-pounding white-knuckle twenty minutes that muddle a historical event concerning Israeli hostages with the shockingly brutal finale of the young Scott's stay in Uganda. Again, it would've been more emotionally involving had the doctor been more deserving of our sympathy. Still, Whitaker is fuming and unforgettable. He totally embodies the spirit of the oft-discussed and debated mad dictator, so much so that when the closing credits roll and we see stock footage of the real Amin, you'd swear these were images of Idi Amin playing Forest Whitaker.
Director Kevin MacDonald only alludes to the horrors (300,000 massacred) while delivering a music-video style account of the free-wheeling decadence of Amin's regime while he still played in favor to his people. Much of the film runs like the early parts of P.T. Anderson's "Boogie Nights" or any gangster saga from Scrorsese: hyper-edited, smoothly shot scenes depicting humor, violence, sex, nudity, and overly-indulged individuals new to money and power. It would've been more compelling had tighter focus been paid to Amin instead of the highly unlikable doctor character, who for the most part comes across as a flighty, over-educated twit with foggy ideas on good deeds and uncontrollable hormones that lead him to hounding after every marginally attractive married woman he comes across, including a barely recognizable Gillian Anderson donning a British accent, and Kerry Washington as Amin's third wife (duh, doc!).
About two-thirds of the way through, MacDonald lets Whitaker loose, and his rampage is awe-inspiring. It culminates in a pulse-pounding white-knuckle twenty minutes that muddle a historical event concerning Israeli hostages with the shockingly brutal finale of the young Scott's stay in Uganda. Again, it would've been more emotionally involving had the doctor been more deserving of our sympathy. Still, Whitaker is fuming and unforgettable. He totally embodies the spirit of the oft-discussed and debated mad dictator, so much so that when the closing credits roll and we see stock footage of the real Amin, you'd swear these were images of Idi Amin playing Forest Whitaker.