Criterion Review: GENERAL IDI AMIN: A SELF-PORTRAIT

A fascinating documentary about the Ugandan dictator that emphasizes the importance of resistance to abuse of power

There’s something enticing about trying to understand the psychology of those who abuse power, or at least observing their behavior and quirks. This is particularly true of historical figures who leave a character imprint nearly as big as the crimes they perpetrate. The latest addition to the Criterion Collection is the 1974 documentary General Idi Amin Dada: A Self-Portrait by Barbet Schroeder, one “co-directed” by its subject, a film as fascinating as it is disturbing. This is unsurprising given its subject, Ugandan dictator Idi Amin, bestowed upon himself the title “His Excellency President for Life, Field Marshal Al Hadji Dr. Idi Amin, VC, DSO, MC, King of Scotland, 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.”

Synopsis

In 1974, Barbet Schroeder went to Uganda to make a film about Idi Amin, the country’s ruthless, charismatic dictator. Three years into a murderous regime that would be responsible for the deaths of hundreds of thousands of Ugandans, Amin prepared a triumphal greeting for the filmmakers, staging rallies, military maneuvers, and cheery displays of national pride, and envisioning the film as an official portrait to adorn his cult of personality. Schroeder, however, had other ideas, emerging with a disquieting, caustically funny brief against Amin, in which the dictator’s own endless stream of testimony — by turns charming, menacing, and nonsensical — serves as the most damning evidence. A revelatory tug-of-war between subject and filmmaker, General Idi Amin Dada: A Self-Portrait is a landmark in the art of documentary and an appalling study of egotism in power.

Those lacking in knowledge of world affairs may be familiar with the portrayal of Idi Amin by Forest Whitaker in the 2006 film The Last King of Scotland, a venture that effectively conveyed the brutal dictator’s eccentricity and instability. After a military coup, he held power in Uganda for nearly a decade in the ‘70s, abusing his position and his people; it is believed around 100,000 to 500,000 Ugandans were killed during his tenure. From his ascension to power, he was was obviously a colorful personality, a man who thought himself a major player on the world stage, a man of taste and wisdom; the reality is he was a malicious, unhinged dictator. Seeing an opportunity, Barbet Schroeder initiated a rather surreptitious piece of film-making, beginning a documentary about him several years into his regime. He stoked Amin’s interest by playing to the man’s ego and allowing him to be involved in the direction of the film, rendering it as something of a “self-portrait.”

The approach is similar to that which informed Joshua Oppenheimer’s extraordinary work The Act of Killing (2015), negotiating the cooperation of genocidal subjects, playing to their ego, their wants, their image. Amin expected a piece glorifying himself and his reign, a vanity piece, propaganda essentially. Controlling the shoot, he tries to charm and disarm with his beaming smile, hearty laugh, displays of strength, and accordion playing. He champions his ideas, instructing doctors and soldiers in new approaches and philosophies, casual bravado and fluctuations in tone and temper only hinting at the unspeakable acts he was orchestrating. It’s unsettling fare, their brutality bubbling away under the surface. Despite this, Schroeder fails to really get Amin to open up fully in the way Oppenheimer did with his subjects. His control, of himself and the film, never breaks fully, hinting at Amin’s brutality rather than confronting him with it. The documentary remains a fascinating (if superficial) look at the polished veneer of a madman. A timely release, it’s a warning of how a bloated sense of self-importance and a lack of checks and balances can allow cruelty against the helpless to spread.

The Package

The release presents a new 2K digital transfer, restored from the original 16mm. Image quality showcases solid and deep blacks, warm natural colors and grain preserved, while the image is free of any artifacts or flaws. Special features are a little lacking compared to other Criterion releases, but those present add an important depth to the truth behind this figure:

  • Interviews from 2001 and 2017 with Schroeder: Both interviews touch on Amin’s legacy, as well that of the film itself. Details on the films production are also included, tidbits that would be nicely incorporated via a director’s audio commentary to be honest, a feature that is sadly missing.
  • New interview with journalist and author Andrew Rice about Idi Amin’s regime: An overview of Amin’s tenure during the ‘70s, one that adds some drier, but more detailed context to the subject.
  • PLUS: An essay by critic J. Hoberman: Liner booklet that details how the film was restored for this release, as well as an interesting contribution from Hoberman.

The Bottom Line

General Idi Amin Dada: A Self-Portrait is a fascinating documentary, even if it fails to dig into the depths of its subject. At times quirky, it’s a darkly comedic piece of perceived “propaganda” used instead to peel back the facade of a dark historical figure.


General Idi Amin Dada: A Self-Portrait, is available from December 12th via Criterion.

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