Thoroughly original in its inception and disarmingly elegant in execution, this is immanent critque at its best, with Amin Dada deconstructing himself, his cabinet and the tragic figures of 'toy soldiers' waiting to be butchered. An essay on how dictators thrive on relativistically mingled ideological mumbo jumbo, Schroeder's film is all the more disturbing as behind the humor and the smile lies a repugnant reality.
More than enough rope here. Props to the Suicide Revolutionary Jazz Band for grace under pressure; to the doctors of 1970s Uganda, who look like they could use a drink; to Tanzania's President Nyerere for dignity in the face of relentless kookiness, and finally, to the three insufficiently revolutionary wives lucky enough to secure a divorce from Amin. On the other hand, their nightmare surely didn't end there.
what a frightening portrait, Amin's such a charismatic man that it's hard to read through the cracks. It's very terrifying to me that I came to some what like this man then I remeber "He killed 100,000's of people!" An eyeopening documentary that looks gorgeous and helps me remember why I fear politics.