Killers of the Flower Moon
People don’t make films with the patience and grace of Killers of the Flower Moon any more — except Martin Scorsese, who’s practically specializing in those qualities these days.
In a decade where he’s slowed down time for his distinct grand visions in Silence and The Irishman, and also turned back the clock with the nimble The Wolf of Wall Street and Rolling Thunder Revue, the director gifts movie lovers another idiosyncratic masterpiece with his adaptation of David Grann’s nonfiction bestseller.
Though not the first pairing of Scorsese’s go-to collaborators Robert De Niro and Leonardo DiCaprio, it’s the first with Marty behind the camera. And following an instructive introduction chronicling the indigenous Osage Nation’s rise to wealth through their oil-rich land, he and co-writer Eric Roth waste little time facilitating the powerhouse convergence.
While it takes a while to adjust to the extreme scowl of DiCaprio’s naive WWI vet Ernest Burkhart, De Niro requires no such warm-up as Burkhart’s millionaire cattle rancher uncle William “King” Hale, who puts his vice-addicted nephew to work. Precisely what they’re working toward, however, isn’t immediately clear, but considering the long history of rich white men subjugating native people and the amount of money up for grabs via in-marrying, it’s difficult to take King’s “strong suggestion” that Ernest take an interest in Mollie Burkhart (Lily Gladstone, Certain Women) as innocent matchmaking.
The rising number of murdered Osage and the lack of subsequent police investigations further complicates matters, and amidst legendary production designer Jack Fisk’s wholly convincing recreation of 1920s Oklahoma, Scorsese and Roth methodically present the injustices heaped upon the Osage, then gradually bring the perpetrators to justice.
Such turns play out in extra satisfying fashion considering the elite gaslighting on display in the first few acts. One of the ultimate “white people suck” movies, Killers of the Flower Moon also proves thematically consistent with Scorsese’s filmography — particularly his gangster/crime films — in its depiction of swindlers getting their comeuppance and a hypocritical brotherhood that crumbles under pressure.
Rewarding as it it to watch DiCaprio and De Niro squirm in their own distinct ways as FBI agent Tom White (Jesse Plemons) and his men descend upon Fairfax, Gladstone’s grounded turn as the wronged, terrified, yet determined Mollie anchors the drama and provides viewers a worthy hero. From big names to lesser-known Native American actors, there’s not a weak link in this ensemble — including at least four perfectly-case professional musicians, among them Jason Isbell and Sturgill Simpson — and the surrounding team of talented technicians lay an especially impressive foundation.
Besides Fisk (The Tree of Life; There Will Be Blood), who somehow hasn’t previously worked with Scorsese, trusted past collaborators abound to help the director fully realize his vision. Along with expected high-quality work from longtime editor Thelma Schoonmaker and Rodrigo Prieto, Scorsese’s cinematographer since The Wolf of Wall Street, the film features phenomenal score and complementary soundtrack curation by the late, great Robbie Robertson, to whom the project is lovingly dedicated.
But even with all these elements in place, Scorsese still has a long, ambitious story to tell and carefully uses his assets to craft another three-plus hour narrative that doesn’t feel nearly as impenetrable as the runtime suggests. And while not the blast of adrenaline that is The Wolf of Wall Street, Killers of the Flower Moon more closely resembles Silence and The Irishman as it comparably connects with receptive viewers on a deeper level, entwining with the soul and confirming that we’re in the hands of a master filmmaker.
Grade: A. Rated R. Now playing at AMC River Hills 10, Carolina Cinemark, the Fine Arts Theatre, Grail Moviehouse, and Regal Biltmore Grande.
(Photos: Melinda Sue Gordon/AppleTV+)
