Most would agree that Adolph Hitler and Joseph Stalin head the list of most evil dictators of the twentieth century, but not far behind should be Idi Amin Dada, President of Uganda from 1971-9. Without accurate records and without authorized autobiography, we'll never know exactly how many mistrusted Ugandans were slaughtered by Amin's death squads but 300,000 is a conservative estimate. Amin's paranoia makes Richard Nixon look like a choirboy, so check out Barbet Schroeder’s remarkable General Idi Amin Dada for a disturbing self portrait that reveals his charm while hinting at his dangerous side.

Schroeder's documentary never played to the masses, however, and is now primarily found among Criterion Collection devotees. A more widespread take on the evil tyrant will now come from The Last King of Scotland, a fictionalized story based on Amin';s murderous regime now in theatrical release in U.S. arthouses. The film title comes from one of the more outlandish titles that Amin gave himself. If this wasn't enough to showcase his lunacy, he also referred to himself as "His Excellency President for Life, Field Marshal Al Hadji Doctor Idi Amin, VC, DSO, MC, Lord of All the Beasts of the Earth and Fishes of the Sea, and Conqueror of the British Empire in Africa in General and Uganda in Particular."

Director Kevin Macdonald embellishes The Last King of Scotland with enough improbabilities and thriller plot clichés to sicken discerning viewers, but even an overwrought director can't destroy Forest Whitaker's definitive take on former Ugandan dictator Idi Amin Dada. Despite his secondary amount of screen time to the forgettable protagonist, Whitaker thoroughly dominates the film--and provides the only reason to sit through its 123 minutes. Seamlessly switching between naïve buffoon and blustering monster at a moment's notice, Whitaker command complete attention--pencil his name in now for an Oscar nomination.

Although Macdonald aspires to craft a political thriller along the lines of The Constant Gardener, he comes closer to creating the dark side of Hotel Rwanda, lacking its sympathetic good-hearted protagonist. Instead, we are forced to follow self-righteous naïve young Nicholas Garrigan (James McAvoy) pursue African adventure fresh out of medical school (anything to avoid a steady diet of haggis and potatoes with his staid Scottish parents). Lest we think Nicholas too idealistic, Macdonald "humanizes" him by having him bed a beautiful Ugandan woman a few moments after arrival and then attempt to "hit" on a married co-worker (Gillian Anderson) his first day on the job. Only the mention of Idi Amin (and the knowledge that he'll soon get screen time) keeps audiences from walking out at this point.

Fortunately, Whitaker comes to the rescue, donning Amin's considerable frame and mesmerizing persona to deliver populist promises in celebration of his 1971 coup over the corrupt Obote regime. While Imin certainly doesn't save Uganda, Whitaker saves the film from oblivion. But Macdonald must fashion an implausible plot device to tie Nicholas to the schizoid dictator. This comes via a freak automobile accident with a bellowing cow, when the young doctor impresses Imin with his bold decisiveness. It's hardly a surprise that the supposedly idealistic Nicholas soon chooses the luxurious lifestyle as Amin's personal physician over the spartan mission clinic, but this conveniently allows the camera to penetrate Amin's world (along with affording the young Scot opportunity to create plot complications with an improbable love affair).

At one point Nicholas is told to escape and go home to tell the truth about Amin, thinking that the media will believe a "white man." An obvious racist view, yet we know intellectually that this speaks an uncomfortable reality--a point often highlighted by a numerous films about African lunacy in the past few years. Within this movie, however, James McAvoy never captures the audience with his self-indulgent love trysts and uncommitted altruism; in the end his story degenerates into a simplistic survival tale with predictable outcome.

Despite the numerous scripting flaws, Whitaker overcomes them with a commanding performance that channels the volatile dictator that we can see first hand in Schroeder's documentary--ranging from lovable uncle to gastronomically challenged frightened child to blustering buffoon to wild-eyed psychotic despot. It's a flamboyantly chaotic vision of Hell that certainly won't encourage African tourism, but provides ample opportunity for Whitaker to flaunt his acting talent. And from what we do know about Amin, he conveys the evil nut job faithfully enough to render The Last King of Scotland noteworthy.