Review - Killers of The Flower Moon
Directed by: Martin Scorsese
Written by: Eric Roth, Martin Scorsese
Starring: Leonardo DiCaprio, Lily Gladstone, Robert De Niro
Running Time: 206 Minutes
Rating: 5/5
Can you find the wolves in this picture?
Martin Scorsese was born on November 17th, 1942. He’s 80 years old. His forty-two filmography spans over half a century, encompassing feature films and full length documentaries. Almost 56 years since his debut, Martin Scorsese’s Killers of the Flower Moon may be, if not, one of his crowning achievements. A gargantuan American Prometheus that is absolute in its haunting urgency; electrifyingly magnetic from its opening frame to its hushed final whispers, Killers of the Flower Moon is a sweeping symphony of the echoes of consequence and a monument of American tragedy.
Adapted from David Grann’s 2017 nonfiction novel of the same name, Killers of the Flower Moon is a sprawling American epic that retells the horrifyingly devastating stories of the Osage people in the Osage Nation in 1920s Oklahoma. Ernest Burkhart (Leonardo DiCaprio) returns from the war to his uncle, William Hale (Robert De Niro) in search of a job and a place to stay. Across the rolling Osage hills, Hale is a fixture in the community; a powerful and wealthy businessman whose growing reach confidently defines his stature. When Ernest crosses paths with an Osage woman, Mollie (Lily Gladstone) their destinies intertwine across years of tragedies, blood and oil.
Killers of the Flower Moon is a generational epic; a meticulous slow burn that haunts, consumes and surrounds you with dread, fear and sorrow. Scorsese at his most nihilistic, the film does not shy away from its all-compassing tragedy; a sense of impending doom, tragedy and utmost darkness, Killers is self-aware in its own narrative that the story of the Osage has clearly been left out of the history books. Greed consumes man, an archaic parasite that blinds honor, justice and compassion; the white man is an animal, a blight against the Osage. Mollie’s family becomes the emotional heartbeat of the film, their vulnerability cascaded across Mollie’s three sisters and their ailing mother; the film captures the tactical integration of Hale’s towering hand into their home and culture. The white man provides them opportunity and protection; medicine for their melancholy and diabetes, jobs as ranchers or drivers, and a place at the table for community and a sense of respect. It feels genuine but calculated, a sense of cold desire; the wolves beginning to circle their prey.
A passion project for Scorsese, the film inherently feels like a spiritual successor and amalgamation of many of Scorsese’s thematic and narrative motifs; Killers feels part gangster/crime epic with stylistic similarities to Casino, Goodfellas and The Irishman - but also it carries the emotional weight, volume and journey of Kundun, The Last Temptation of Christ and most of all, Silence. Boasting a colossal three and a half hour run time; Killers never feels like a chore - it feels precise, urgent and brisk in its extensive narrative. It becomes difficult to challenge Scorsese and long-time editor/collaborator Thelma Schoonmaker, as it can be argued that almost every single scene in the film is integral in creating the film’s lingering tension and dread, but also heightens the film’s climactic conclusion; a wonderous and powerful climax that will stay with you days after the final credits roll.
Led by a a towering DiCaprio, the film’s ensemble shine with masterful performances that are powerful, staggering and emotionally commanding. DiCaprio wrestles with the emotional crossroads of love and justice; his mind clouded by Hale’s impending presence over him, but his heart grounded by the passion and soul of Mollie’s love. Admittedly, not the biggest DiCaprio fan, but he executes some of his powerful work of his career, especially in the final act of the film. Gladstone is tremendous in her captivating performance as Mollie; a challenging feat as she balances her tragedy with grace and strength. It would have been interesting for Scorsese to place Mollie as the protagonist of the film as it feels like the emotional weight and carthasis rests on her shoulders - rather than Ernest, nonetheless, Gladstone breathes grace and emotional volume into Mollie’s story. Though, it is Robert De Niro as William Hale that absolutely steals every single scene he is in; a brooding Satan in white satin; Hale writes his own destiny with charisma and cruelty, every smile is a crooked, every breath calculated and every handshake a bold letter to the executioner. He is a ghost, a malignant all-knowing entity that almost feels all-present in scenes that he isn’t in. All three leads are bound for Oscar glory; a matter of their competition, but they are all respectively powerful candidates in the awards world.
Killers of the Flower Moon is the rumination of an American tragedy long forgotten, ignored and erased. A culture and people unfairly defined by its suffering and loss, Scorsese challenges his audience and thus, the world, to never forget and pay its respects to the keepers of our land. There have been many interviews by the cast, crew and even Scorsese himself that have argued that the only the way that the story of Mollie Burkhart or the Osage people can come to life is that if a white man, like Scorsese himself, is put in a position to make it. It feels ironic and tragic in our construction of a society and people that artists and stories of our history can feel so detached from our communities. Killers of the Flower Moon is respectively a tribute to the Osage people and stories unjustly forgotten. It is grandiose, immersive, expansive and visually, emotionally commanding in its slow dread, tension and masterful climax. A masterpiece that feels only appropriate for a virtuoso of the craft. Scorsese leaves the audience with a lingering question; one that breaks the fourth wall and captures our hearts, souls and minds.
Have you told all your truths?
