Killers of the Flower Moon (Movie Review)
by Robert Bouffard, Editor
Killers of the Flower Moon comes as the third of what could be viewed as a spiritual trilogy (spiritual in two ways: as an unofficial trilogy, and as one that literally deals with matters of the human soul) from Martin Scorsese. 2016’s Silence is about a Jesuit priest making peace with God and his own intentions with regards to how he positions himself as a spiritual leader; The Irishman is about a man in the mob coming to terms with a life full of depravity and its eternal implications; and now Killers has a bit of both… and so much more.
Based on the nonfiction book of the same name by David Grann, Killers of the Flower Moon the film chronicles the systemic and malevolent way in which members of the oil rich Osage tribe of Indigenous Peoples were murdered by white Americans shortly after the end of World War I. Bill Hale (Robert De Niro) is a community leader in the Oklahoma town where the murders take place, and when his nephew, Ernest Burkhart (Leonardo DiCaprio), returns from his time fighting in the war, Hale immediately hooks him in to a plot to infiltrate the Osage via marriage, and slowly but surely win over the headrights.
It is basically undisputed that Scorsese is among the greatest living filmmakers, if not the greatest. He’s been directing films for over 50 years, and out of his now 26 narrative feature films (he’s also directed many shorts, documentaries, and concert films), there’s an argument to be made for about a dozen of them to be among the greatest ever made. So with the 80-year-old filmmaker reflecting on what is close to not only the end of his career, but the end of his life, calling the release of Killers of the Flower Moon anything less than significant would be an understatement.
Unlike Scorsese’s many previous films about crime and the men who perpetuate it, there is nothing cool or charismatic about Hale or Burkhart. Hale fancies himself a friend to the Osage, but as a man, he is unrelentingly evil, despite the shallow kindness his eyes portray. For all the showy performances that De Niro’s had throughout his career, it’s Hale’s subtleties and quiet apathy when orchestrating atrocities that makes him truly terrifying in one of De Niro’s best performances in years.
Burkhart, meanwhile, is simply a bumbling fool who is indifferently evil. He casually discusses and assigns violent hits, and then goes home to his wife, Mollie (Lily Gladstone), an Osage woman, as if there’s nothing amiss. DiCaprio himself has certainly given better performances in his own storied career, but there’s something to be said for his willingness to play total dimwits who lack redeeming qualities.
So centering an idiot and a miscreant is new for Scorsese. Henry Hill, Jordan Belfort, and even Travis Bickle all come across as cool or empathetic, at least for a time. But they all serve as a method for Scorsese to comment on the diseased heart of America, and its men in particular. In Killers, he comments on these men’s original sin, which of course is the way the land’s natives were driven from their home and massacred. Scorsese thankfully has no compassion for these atrocities, and displays them as the unmitigated evils they were.
And to drive this all home, he focuses on Lily, who is one of four sisters in a particularly wealthy family. Hale not so sneakily tricks Ernest into falling in love with Lily, thus perfectly positioning his family to inherit all their money as the sisters, again, not so sneakily, die one by one. Gladstone is highly intelligent, but very reserved, and she spends much of the film observing or having things done to her. But this allows Gladstone to undoubtedly give the best performance in the entire movie. She conveys so much with just an expression or a simple look — it’s a stark difference from the titans of De Niro and DiCaprio, but it’s what the film calls for, and she delivers to the highest degree.
Mollie and her family are also the characters through whom the film most deeply connects with its spirituality. Though many of the Indigenous people go to the local Catholic church, their own spiritual rituals and customs are still observed. It’s shown in the day-to-day habits, but also in big moments such as Lizzie Q’s (Mollie’s mother, played by Tantoo Cardinal) death, in which she is silently greeted by her ancestors and guided into the afterlife. This scene, among others, has a deep reverence for Indigenous cultures, and helps maintain that undertone throughout most of the film.
I only say most, though, because Killers slightly changes focus in its last hour of its three hours and 26 minutes. The newly formed FBI finally makes it to Oklahoma, and the film shifts to more of a procedural investigation and courtroom drama instead of the historical epic it starts off as. During this portion, most of Mollie’s family is already gone, and she is laid up in bed due to her being regularly poisoned, leaving just the white men as the focus. In doing this, the film loses sight of its heart, and left me cold in a way it doesn’t quite intend to.
By focusing on the investigation and the court proceedings, it hammers home a couple of ideas — the pathetic nature of men, the greed that drives people, the disregard for and aggression against the rights and customs of those who came before, and the general detachment through which the non-affected people engage with the story. But especially considering the film’s final shot, it’s clear it wants the Osage to be on the forefront of the viewer’s mind. However, by the end of the movie, despite one more excellent scene with Mollie, Ernest’s sniveling is the taste that’s left in my mouth.
This is a difficult line for someone like Scorsese to walk. It’s clear that he wants to do right by the Osage, but as someone who isn’t of that lineage, it only feels personal up to a certain point. His classic themes of depravity and human darkness are felt to their full effect, but it’s the rest that feels a little cold. To his credit, Scorsese addresses that very thing in the film’s epilogue, which directly interacts with the meta question of whether this is Scorsese’s story to tell. It makes crystal clear that there were systemic injustices committed repeatedly in the last 400 years, and it even argues that, up to this day, the atrocities and injustices haven’t fully been resolved or reckoned with by those who need to reckon with it the most.
With its final shot showing the Osage, Killers of the Flower Moon does leave us with the vibrant and lively culture and spirit of such a beautiful people. Despite the events depicted in the film, the Osage still haven’t lost what makes them, them — something that will continue on because it’s unique and meaningful, and they won’t let it die. That’s beautiful. It’s just a final image faintly tinted with the color of regret.
Rating: High Side of Liked It
Killers of the Flower Moon is currently playing in theaters
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