Jonah Naplan   October 22, 2023

Martin Scorsese’s “Killers of the Flower Moon” is a monumental epic, channeling primordial depictions of mankind at its most vile, and, in turn, its most avaricious. Especially in a day and age in which the wealthy elite dominate both the economic and distribution fronts, “Killers of the Flower Moon” exists in a morally gray area, a doubly disturbing tale about true events. That Scorsese’s ambitious screenplay achieves most of what it sets out to do is impressive, and it’s only when his narrative seems to be drifting away from the soul of what made these events so upsetting that its impact abates. Still, for what makes for perhaps the boldest movie of the whole year, “Killers of the Flower Moon” will leave even more of an impact on you than the iconic films of Scorsese’s formative years. What it gets right, it gets right, and the necessity of seeing a film like this in the theater is all the better for it.

The movie, written by Scorsese and Eli Roth, based upon the book Killers of the Flower Moon: The Osage Murders and the Birth of the FBI by David Grann, takes place in Oklahoma in the 1920s. Some time ago, the Osage Nation was ushered off of their sacred land, to new grounds in the American southwest, discovering bucketloads of precious oil hidden in the territory which inexorably turned them into the wealthiest group of people in the country practically overnight. Of course, the whites quickly got envious of the redskins, and tried to take back what was never theirs in the first place, inciting a brutal battle upon which this murder saga of a movie springs off. One of the key figures of “Killers of the Flower Moon” is the legendary William King Hale (a terrific Robert De Niro), sometimes referred to as “Bill,” but who prefers to be called “King,” and whose imperious nickname is rather fitting for his power magnate agenda. Hale uses deception, lies, trickery and manipulation to assert his dominance over the Osage region, but, at first glance, radiates the aura of a warm grandpa who wouldn’t hurt a fly. It’s an extra tricky performance to execute; as multifaceted as it is an interrogation of how one man can be filled with such toxic hubris that it devolves into pure evil when triggered and destroys the posterity of an entire nation.

Hale’s nephew Ernest Burkhardt (Leonardo DiCaprio), who has just returned home from the war, gets a new start as an Osage chauffeur, driving Mollie (a powerhouse Lily Gladstone) around the city. Eventually, the two fall deeply in love with each other, and marry shortly before beloved members of the Osage community, including Mollie’s own family members, start getting murdered and drop like flies one by one. It’s not a spoiler to say that Hale is responsible for this deadly plot, and coerces Ernest to join his scheme, but as the plot thickens, and the murders get increasingly more personal, Mollie starts to take suspicion in her husband. She feels especially targeted by these homicides; her sister Anna (Cara Jade Myers), who also happens to be married to Ernest’s brother Bryan (Scott Shepherd), is found shot dead in a creek, and both her other sister and her mother (Tantoo Cardinal) meet a similar fate. By some point, her only relative left standing is herself.

You can Google the outcome of this tale for answers as much as you please, but this review won’t describe the specifics of Hale’s plot in any more detail than it already has. Because the horror of this true story is best told through Scorsese’s intrinsic eye for disturbing visuals that get under your skin whenever possible and evoke fears you never thought you had. The very fact that this terror scheme unfolded right in plain sight is upsetting enough, but watching Mollie unwittingly take the center of this evil stratagem is even more unsettling. Much has already been written about evil unfolding in the shadow of the very institution that swore to protect all it looks over, but what “Killers of the Flower Moon” captures is quite the opposite. There are no shadows in this movie, only scorching daylight juxtaposed beside blasts of fire decimating Osage residences.

That Scorsese doesn’t shy away from depicting the violence in all its uncensored nakedness makes “Killers of the Flower Moon” not for the faint of heart. And those with a weak stomach shouldn’t be allowed anywhere near it. The violence is unforgiving and merciless, sneaking up on you like a masked maniac in a slasher movie. Though many of the most unnerving moments come not from the violence itself, but the suffering that follows, the movie is extremely potent in choosing what exactly it wants to show, and wants to hide in order to maximize its impact. In doing so, Scorsese maneuvers our attention by ratcheting up suspense about who’ll be the next victim, and distracts us with red herrings as the rest of his plot unravels under our nose to have payoff at a later time. By a certain point, we give up speculating who’s committing these murders, and disregard our preconceived notions about who’s “safe” from danger in a movie like this.

“Killers of the Flower Moon” is also a movie packed with metaphorical imagery that welcomes its own interpretation from the audience. And for a film that runs 3 hours and 26 minutes, there are so many dense layers that couldn’t possibly be unpacked in full until multiple repeat viewings. There are subplots about individual characters, the progression of modern medicine, racism, classicism, and the evasion of basic human rights. What Scorsese brings to the table is an intellectual exercise in genre filmmaking that is set in a different context from much of his past work, but still explores similar themes of men lusting for power, using their greed to get whatever they want, whenever they want it, either by turning those they see as “lesser” into their own personal pawns, or by taking down those who have become wealthy not because of a hereditary fortune but because they’ve been smart with what they’ve been given and their wealth has only grown because of it.

Around the cusp of the third act, federal agents finally show up to survey the crimes, notably Jesse Plemons as a perfectly deadpan investigator whose rapport with the tribe chief falls subject to mistrust, and whose work takes the case to court, while John Lithgow and Brendan Fraser portray two attorneys prone to butt heads over Ernest. Each location is shot a little bit differently by cinematographer Rodrigo Prieto, with a unique rhythm that corroborates so starkly inattentive viewers may miss it. And of course, “Killers of the Flower Moon” isn’t complete without a classy, subtle score by Robbie Robertson, whose posthumous soundtrack adds just the right auditory tinge to complement the stakes.

With all these fixings, it’s frustrating that “Killers of the Flower Moon” can sometimes feel so emotionally hollow, completing the narrative cycle with just enough flair to move the viewer, but without doing much to advance these characters towards any meaningful connection with one another. Ernest, in particular, doesn’t seem to have any distinct motivation for either siding with the Osage or with his uncle, as his character is written to be the sort of middle man, who questions his place in the crimes because he loves and cares for his wife even more than he does his money. And, as he states in one of the movie’s most well-written and heartbreaking scenes, he didn’t marry Mollie because Hale told him to, but because he fell in love with her, nearly and dearly.

One could suppose that it is Scorsese’s intent to let us decide for ourselves whether or not Ernest can ever be “forgivable,” and doing so would fall nicely in line with the auteur’s previous projects that tell stories of troubled men doing bad things, and it’s up to the viewer to decipher whether they’re pure evil or morally corrupt. I wouldn’t be surprised if Scorsese himself hasn’t settled on his own answer, as his screenplay’s interrogations are supported by evidence that has either already been shown to us, or will be shown to us an hour later, and isn’t necessarily hiding anything to influence our answer.

The fact of the matter is that Mollie Burkhardt’s testimonies paved the way for the official creation of the FBI, and the horrifying events she brought to light have echoed in some form throughout our world over and over again in the last century. Gladstone’s intense performance will gather awards chatter in the next months and it will be well-deserved. She provides the movie with its most devastating presence, grounding the film on a level that transcends both expectations and clichés typical to stories about real people. Yes, she has the kind of Oscar reel meltdowns the Academy likes to see, but they’re absolutely necessary for this type of riveting melancholia. “Killers of the Flower Moon” supports her anguished cries by cooking up all its recipes for hidden evil; it’s only when we’re brave enough to look that they’re brought into full focus.

“Killers of the Flower Moon” is now playing in theaters and will make its premiere on Apple TV+ at a later date.