Killers of the Flower Moon [dir. Martin Scorsese, 2023] (Review)
A masterpiece, a historical epic, a vision of hell on Earth
Before Steven Spielberg got ahold of Steven Zallian’s screenplay for Schindler’s List, one of his two 1993 masterpieces, the project was originally being worked on by his old friend Martin Scorsese. Spielberg had the film rights to the book, “Schindler’s Ark” by Thomas Keneally, since the mid-‘80s but was unsure if he would be the right person to direct such a dark and difficult story. But after years of discussion, he and Marty agreed that Steve would be the better one for the job. Schindler’s List is a story of Jewish perseverance in the face of unimaginable terror, told from the perspective of both a Jewish victim and the titular Gentile who would save thousands with his help. Steven, being Jewish himself, was the more natural fit. Marty would wait another thirty years before attempting to tackle a different tale of genocide and oppression.
The debate over who is the right person to tell a story is never ending – there are certainly great Holocaust movies made by non-Jewish filmmakers, and excellent films depicting the horrors of African-American slavery and segregation directed by white men. But that doesn’t mean that it comes without controversy, or that, as time moves forward, we better understand why it matters who is the person at the microphone. So, when Martin Scorsese, an Italian-American man from New York decided, very late in his career, to tackle the tragically under-discussed history of the Osage tribe it understandably ruffled feathers. In fact, it seemed to bother him on a deep level as well, and while I know there are many who disagree, that is the reason I believe he was the right person for this particular film. It matters when the filmmaker is from the culture being victimized, but when they’re not it also matters if they understand the weight.
The most important decision Scorsese made when producing Killers of the Flower Moon, besides hiring a team of Native American experts and scholars to ensure both accuracy and cultural respect, was to rewrite the entirety of Eric Roth’s screenplay. By all accounts the script was excellent (Roth himself is no slouch), but it hewed closely to the book of the same name (by David Grann) which splits its time between the murders happening in Oklahoma and the parallel founding of the FBI. That focus took attention away from the tragedy and framed the story as a murder mystery, with the detective getting top billing. As riveting a story as that is, it is not the one Scorsese was looking to tell. Whether he will say it or not (or even consciously believes it), this was his chance to make his own Schindler’s List. And, in true Marty fashion, his is not a tale of triumph of human spirit in the face of great evil. It’s a slow and deliberate descent into hell, with no end in sight even once the credits begin to roll.
If you’ve only seen the trailers and expect this to be the story of how Leonardo DiCaprio comes to town and finds his wife’s family’s killers then I’m very sorry to inform you that is not the case. Unlike the book, which keeps the culprits mostly a mystery until near the conclusion, we know who is killing the Osage pretty much from the word go, and it’s everyone with white skin who has anything to gain from it. In a bravura montage narrated by the impeccable Lily Gladstone, we watch as several Native people mysteriously die, most off-screen but one jarringly in one single shot to leave no mistake of the reality, and their deaths never investigate. We know that, due to a lucky stroke of relocation by the U.S. Government, the Osage and other tribes have settled on land rich with oil at a time when it is the greatest commodity ever discovered. It’s no wonder the white settlers are jealous. It’s just clear that none of them view the Osage with enough respect to even attempt to split the pie – they want the whole thing.
This isn’t a spoiler, mind you. We learn the game being played the moment Earnest Burkhart (DiCaprio) is brought into the home of his bespectacled, owlish uncle, William King Hale (Robert De Niro). William lays it all out for Earnest, how it is their duty to not just keep his own oil fortune within the family but to gather as many others as he can along the way. He should find a nice Osage woman (the most wonderful of all women, according to Hale, who is married to a white woman) and ingratiate himself into her family. With Hale is Earnest’s brother, Byron (Scott Shephard), a serious man who seems poised to be his brother’s keeper and ensure he stays in line with the plan. There is no mention of murder, not yet, but the implication is quite obvious. What isn’t so plain is whether or not Earnest understands the direction this is headed – he might just be too dumb to get it.
It is because of this uncertainty that, on first viewing, it can be possible to read Earnest’s first interaction with Mollie Kyle (Gladstone) as a sort of twisted meet-cute. Burkhart is working in town as a driver for hire, picking up the wealthy Osage in town and taking them wherever they want to go, so it is very possible running into Mollie, a single woman and heir to a large oil coffer, is purely happenstance. Rather than drive her, he is instead distracted and excited by a street race taking place on the road where he’s parked. We can see Mollie’s attraction begin instantly, as the man’s boyish enthusiasm is certainly infectious (he doesn’t have any money on the race, just loves that it’s happening). And, to her credit, she recognizes he is a simple man. Not that she wants a stupid husband, but it’s hard to believe that he would be capable of scheming to get her money, the fate of so many others she already told us about. That his uncle is William Hale, one of the few white men the Native community actually seems to trust, is certainly a bonus.
It is that very trust that Hale will exploit, along with the intelligence (or lack thereof) of his nephew. Whatever good feelings we have about the burgeoning relationship are gone instantly, when the very next scene has Hale further planting the seeds of destruction in Earnest’s mind. He informs Burkhart about Mollie’s family, her sisters, her ailing mother, and their money. So, while we get more scenes of the two falling in love, each one is colored by the knowledge that Earnest, whether he realizes it or not, is carrying out a long-term plot to consolidate oil and prosperity. At best, he believes doing so will help make the woman he loves even more wealthy than she already is. At worst, he knows he’s dooming this woman and her family to annihilation. Like I said, a slow and deliberate descent into hell.
I want to pause for a moment to praise the actors, as every single one of them is exceptional. Much has already been said about the brilliance of Lily Gladstone’s performance as Mollie, and I better not be the last to join that chorus. She is remarkable, and every scene she’s in is made better by her presence. The job she has is quite difficult, having to play a woman who, for reasons we will never know, chose to stick with a man who was obviously connected to the tragedy in her orbit. In addition, she spends much of the latter half of the film in bed, as she gets sick from disease, medical sabotage, and immense grief. And yet, she carries more than her own weight and has us on the edge of our seats until her final, ultimate decision. I don’t know what scene her inevitable Oscar reel will be, but I hope it’s the one early in the film of her and Leo sitting and listening to the rain – the way she looks at him, not knowing what he will eventually do, is breathtaking.
On the other end, I’ve never seen Robert De Niro like this before. He is evil to a degree I wasn’t sure was possible, doing a voice I never knew could come out of his mouth. He spends much of the movie perched over Leo, physically leaning on him to carry out his machinations. The body language he displays alone tells an entire story – we can understand why the Osage trust him, and we can see why Earnest fears him. Leo, for his part, plays everything on his face. We can tell he doesn’t exactly like what he’s doing, and he certainly hates every time he has to inform his wife of another tragedy. But he never lets us feel any sympathy for Earnest, not once. We see the disgust, but we also see the acceptance that he believes he is doing the right thing, and that makes it even more evil.
The rest of the cast is stacked full of actors and non-actors alike, each one delivering something wonderful to their roles. Even characters we see for one scene we can feel their history following them. Whether Mollie’s sisters gossiping in the shade during a party, the man controlling their purse strings at the bank, or a showboating lawyer demanding time with his client there isn’t an actor who we don’t believe fully. It’s a masterclass in acting, casting, writing, and directing. For a movie this long, even one small piece out of place would stand out like a sore thumb. It’s a testament to the actors that not one of them does.
The next two hours of the film are brutal. I can fully understand the criticism from many Native Americans such as Reservation Dogs’ Devery Jacobs. It is incredibly difficult to watch “…the worst atrocities committed against [your] ancestors … the only respite being [half-hour] long scenes of murderous white guys talking about/planning the killings.” The bulk of the film’s middle sections are dedicated to Earnest planning or helping to plan the deaths of Mollie’s entire family and even friends in order to guarantee their money goes to either him or his uncle. We watch each and every one take place, and we are forced to see how Mollie’s grief builds and metastasizes until the young woman so full of life from the beginning is ground down into a husk. As her diabetes, something we learn about early on, gets worse we dread knowing that it is Earnest who will have to care for her. The same disease claims the life of her mother, Lizzie (Tantoo Cardinal) amidst all the tragedy, giving us one of the most incredibly depictions of moving onto the afterlife ever committed to celluloid. It becomes clear that the shots the doctors are giving Mollie are only making her worse, and when Burkhart himself becomes complicit it destroys any hope we have left that he could stop what he’s started.
It certainly isn’t helped that the director of this tragedy, legendary as he may be, is a white man. Scorsese does recognize this, and so he chooses to tell the story not from the perspective of the Native Americans but the white men killing them. It’s a controversial decision, to be sure. Were this a movie made by Native filmmakers, people like Sterlin Harjo or Chris Eyre, that certainly would be the focus (and I hope we get that movie one day). But unlike atrocities like The Holocaust or American Slavery, the various genocides against Native Americans are not only under discussed but many Americans would like to wipe their hands of culpability. By couching this story in the perspective of the killers, Scorsese is making us all (particularly other white people like myself) complicit in the horror. The goal is to make sure we understand that, whether or not we’ve heard of this story, that we understand our society’s role in it. When the Bureau of Investigation (the precursor to the FBI) finally investigates, after 150 minutes of the film have gone by, we’re less proud of our government for stepping in and instead wondering what took so long. As Mollie already told us, up until then there have been no investigations.
If it seems like I haven’t stated my actual opinion on Killers of the Flower Moon that’s intentional. For the record, I loved it. I think this is one of the five best movies Scorsese has ever directed, and it’s in contention for my favorite film of 2023. But I also understand that it’s very much not for everyone. If you are Native American and don’t want to watch your people brutally murdered for over three hours (regardless of who the filmmaker is), I completely understand – this will be impossible to watch no matter how good it is. If you don’t enjoy watching violent movies this is absolutely one to skip – it starts violent and only gets more graphic. If you can handle the subject matter, however, this is truly one of the greatest movies ever made. Killers of the Flower Moon is a triumph of cinema, and a must-watch for anyone who can stomach it.
(SPOILER)
The ending of Killers is among the most audacious I’ve ever seen, and just as controversial as every other choice Marty made throughout the film. Rather than fade to black and have text tell us the fate of the surviving characters, we are instead treated to a live recording of a radio play about the events we just witnessed. The truth is, this really happened – true-crime is not a new genre, and there were many radio plays made about the Osage killings, each more salacious than the last. If anyone today is worried about this story being used as entertainment, it is clear that it was already done many times over. We learn what happened to Hale, to Earnest and his brother. And we learn about the rest of Mollie’s life, told by Scorsese himself. He knows he’s the one telling this story, and he knows he might not be the right person to do so. By putting himself on screen he is admitting as such – that his appearance is so jarring tells us all we need to know.
It is the scene after that, though, which has stuck with me the most. Back to Schindler’s List, Spielberg has discussed not knowing how to best end that film. Rather than just fade to black, he decided to move the story forward to the present day and show the people that Schindler saved, along with the actors who portrayed them, visiting their savior’s grave. It is a way to show that no matter what horrors they endured, they are still here and thriving. The same cannot exactly be said for the Osage or other Native American tribes, who have not fully recovered the trauma inflicted upon them (and, sadly, maybe never will). But they can and will endure. Rather than end on the death of Mollie Kyle, we move forward in time once more to the present day, and witness a traditional Osage ceremony. Hundreds of Osage dance and sing as the camera moves further away to show them all moving in unison, preserving as much of their culture as they can after so much pain. We hear them sing as the credits finally, mercifully roll. They are still here, still alive, still together. That is more important than anything else.