Such is also the case with Kevin MacDonald’s portrayal of Idi Amin in The Last King of Scotland, an adaptation of a novel by Giles Foden. Played by Forest Whitaker, a sure Oscar nominee, Amin is a man of the people, boasting of his bluntness, brute simplicity, and lack of sophistication. Sound familiar? He seduces the populace and also Nicholas Garrigan (James MacAvoy), a young physician from Scotland who should know better but gets drawn into Amin’s increasingly insane and murderous schemes of oppression and war. Liberal apologists for Iraq, take note, although that war’s current estimated death toll of 650,000 still falls short of Amin’s 900,000.
This theme of true believers betrayed bodes ill for a party now under serious reconsideration by the religious fundamentalists and extreme conservatives who put them in power. They might also want to watch with an attentive eye Martin Scorsese’s The Departed, which not only earned the director his biggest opening-weekend box office ever, but also might put him on track for his first Oscar.
Like Stark and Amin, mob boss Frank Costello, played by an antic Jack Nicholson and based apparently on local legend Whitey Bulger, rose to power from the brutal streets of Southie, inspiring dedication from those drawn to his ruthless pursuit of power and his fierce enforcement of loyalty. He’s the Godfather of the new millennium, and, as can be expected, some respond to his charisma with ambivalence. For example, his henchman Billy Costigan (Leonardo DiCaprio) is also a mole for the state police. But then state-police detective Colin Sullivan (Matt Damon) is also a mole for Costello. With such blurred distinctions, what’s the difference between mob rule and the rule of law? And what happens when a leader claiming infallibility and total power starts raising doubts about both among his devotees? In Scorsese’s world, heads will roll.
The Departed |
All the King’s Men, The Last King of Scotland, and The Departed all focus on a charismatic leader who draws on the will of the common people for his authority. Lately, though, the GOP seems to have lost touch with everything but its own hermetic intrigues, its myopic world view, and its craven need for self-perpetuation. They have grown atavistic, extraneous, and beleaguered — not unlike, say, the British monarchy.The Royal Family in Stephen Frears’s The Queen is no less estranged from the people than our current administration. In another Oscar-bound performance, Helen Mirren plays Elizabeth II trying to come to grips with the celebrity culture and media saturation that has taken over the occasion of Princess Diana’s death. Far more adept at orchestrating these new and superficial forces to his advantage is newly elected Labour prime minister Tony Blair (Michael Sheen). He can barely contain his glee when, through his manipulation, the Royals manage to shed a little tradition in order to preserve some of their validity. The wily queen knows how the balance of power has shifted, and, gifted with screenwriter Peter Morgan’s prophetic hindsight, intones, sibyl-like, “One day, quite suddenly and without warning, the same will happen to you.”
