‘Killers of the Flower Moon’ Review
Stars: Leonardo DiCaprio, Robert De Niro, Lily Gladstone, Jesse Plemons, Tantoo Cardinal, John Lithgow, Brendan Fraser, Cara Jade Myers, Janae Collins, Jillian Dion, Jason Isbell, William Belleau, Louis Cancelmi, Scott Shepherd, Everett Waller, Talee Redcorn, Yancey Red Corn, Tatanka Means | Written by Eric Roth, Martin Scorsese, David Grann | Directed by Martin Scorsese
Scorsese has always felt like a director born from the streets, in both the literal sense and the metaphorical one. Scorsese rose from the streets, made his name in them, and made films about the greed and ambition of men who lived in those streets. From the alleyways of Brooklyn and the bars of Boston to the offices of Wall Street, Scorsese has shown us that the evil, greedy nature of man can come from any corner of American life. Now, with Killers of the Flower Moon, Scorsese shows us that greed and evil were not born in the streets, but in the wasteland that Native Americans once called home.
Martin Scorsese has had many films now showcasing the violence and voracity in America. From Gangs of New York (2002) to The Wolf of Wall Street (2013), all his films feel like they have now been leading to this statement piece on the history of America, directed masterfully by someone who is truly one of our greatest living artists. Scorsese’s new film tells the true story, based on the non-fiction book by David Grann, of the members of the Osage nation who were mysteriously and brutally murdered in the 1920s. It is a piece of history that almost feels lost and forgotten, I doubt that many people, inside and outside of America had heard of the tragedy, in which over 60 members of the Osage nation were killed. That haunting notion of a nation and world turning a blind eye to one of America’s greatest tragedies lingers through Scorsese’s new film. There is a haunting, cold feeling that the film has, that not only comes from the events of what happened, but of the events that followed; and of who gets to tell the story. Throughout history we are told that history is written by the victor, yet here history has been erased by those who stood by and did nothing, by those who took so long to lend a helping hand. It becomes the power of the run time of the film, something that many people have pointed to as a flaw in the film’s structure. I found the run time acted as a reminder, a reminder of how long this tragedy went unanswered and how long you’re left to sit with these characters, it makes you imagine just how long the members of the Osage nation had to go through such trauma and tragedy. Scorsese uses that runtime to allow you to see just how long this horror went on, and now there is no hiding it. We get to see it for what it was: a violent, brutal horror that the Osage nation had to endure for over a decade.
The runtime of Killers of the Flower Moon is helped by the always magnificent Thelma Schoonmaker, Scorsese’s long-time editor. She manages to keep a pace and beat throughout the film that although doesn’t fly by, it never feels slow either. The pace matches the beat of the drum and rhythm of the dance that Scorsese has crafted. Again, this pace and runtime is used as a weapon – as it was in Scorsese’s last picture The Irishman (2019). In The Irishman, the runtime acted as a great metaphor for loneliness, of time passing by and watching everyone you know leave, of regrets and mistakes that you have to live with over time. This time the runtime is used to highlight the tragic nature of the plague that was the white men on the Osage nation. The plague through the film comes in the form of killings, committed by white men whose goals and ambitions are to get their hands on the money and oil of the Osage nation. Money is the heart of greed, as it was in The Wolf of Wall Street. Scorsese doesn’t often give us characters who are easy to spend time with, instead he makes it difficult, he makes it compelling, and at times he makes it harrowing to be near them. The films main focus is that of Ernest Burkhart (Leonardo DiCaprio) and Mollie Burkhart (Lily Gladstone). Of course, as always DiCaprio is brilliant in every scene he’s in, this time capturing a gaunt, sorrowful, and cowardly look to Ernest that feels like DiCaprio has managed to change the very structure of his bones to achieve. It is a character that isn’t always easy to be around, yet has his moments of charm. Opposite him is Ernest’s wife Mollie, played by Lily Gladstone, who steals every moment she is on screen. She manages to capture a strength and power that slowly weakens and falters. Through tragedy around her, and the illness that has struck her, Mollie slowly starts to wonder who she can trust and Gladstone’s performance effortlessly portrays that to the audience. The rest of the cast is brilliant too, as with all Scorsese movies. Robert De Niro is the other standout and is the most electric he’s been in years as William Hale, the uncle of Ernest Burkhart.
The craftsmanship on every level here is working with all the experience, passion, and dedication you could imagine; from the genius of Jack Fisk and his production design, and the powerful imagery of cinematographer Rodrigo Prieto, to the hauntingly beautiful score by Robbie Robertson. I could talk about the technical and artistic wonder on display throughout this film, but really where all the focus should lie, for me, is with the master, Martin Scorsese. Perhaps the world’s greatest ever filmmaker, and one who only seems to get better with age, comes another masterpiece, in an endless catalogue of masterpieces. This film embodies the type of cinema that stays with you. What stays with you in the end is not nice, it’s hard. It leaves you feeling scared, haunted, and cold. The film begs you to ask questions, questions on evil, of true evil and cowardly evil, of men who smile to your face while they hold knives behind their backs. It showcases America’s past and present and what Scorsese seems to understand, is just how much power he has over that past and present. For decades now Scorsese has rewritten parts of history, he’s shown us true stories throughout history and changed the lines where he has seen fit. Now, he gets to take a look back and realise just how powerful and dangerous this can be. It shows a reflection on the past and how easily trauma and tragedy can be brushed aside, and it gave me the feeling that Scorsese regrets not being able to help more, as if his work has had a hand in misrepresenting the truth and helped hide the truths of the past. It is as if he knows the power he holds over American history, and now uses his art to help say something on that.
Killers of the Flower Moon is a rare piece of filmmaking that stays with you and haunts your every waking second. A film that, like the characters we meet, creeps into your life and festers in your very soul. A film by a master filmmaker that digs deep into the violent nature of greed and the place it has in America, and one that begs to be seen again and again until you’ve taken everything it has.
***** 5/5
Killers of the Flower Moon is in cinemas now.