Rating: 4.5 out of 5
AT first glance, Martin Scorsese’s three and a half hour epic Killers of the Flower Moon would appear to be a colossal undertaking that begs the question: does it need to be that long?
Yet while there are scenes that could have been shortened or cut, it’s also true that very little of what’s on screen seems indulgent or surplus to requirement. This is a mightily compelling film and an important historical document.
As with many Scorsese epics, issues of power and corruption permeate. We may not be in the gangster territory of Goodfellas, Casino or The Departed, but the corrupt officials on show here are every bit as violent, coercive and despicable. If anything, they lack a moral code beyond chasing money while erasing a people.
This is a true story, set in the early 1920s, in the town of Gray Horse, in Osage County, Oklahoma, home to the Osage Native Americans who have discovered vast reserves of oil in their reservation.
Their wealth is quickly chased by white men, keen to either marry the women and stake a claim, or other prospectors aiming to get ahead and find ways to exploit the Natives for their black gold.
Stumbling into this world is Ernest (Leonardo DiCaprio), an army veteran not fit for any job that requires physical exertion, who is taken under the wing of his prosperous uncle, Hale (Robert De Niro), who quickly finds a way to get the most out of him for his own personal gain.
Hence, Ernest is encouraged to woo and marry Mollie ( Lily Gladstone), a ‘full-blood’ Osage woman who holds a share of the ‘headrights’ to the oil deposits on her family’s land. Gullible and compliant, Ernest carries out every evil request that his uncle makes, organising and sometimes participating in the murders of Mollie’s wider family (her sisters and mother, as well as some men), while also hastening her demise by lacing her insulin.
The ensuing film charts the depths to which Ernest will plunge, as well as the investigation that subsequently followed by a fledgling FBI (headed by Jesse Plemons’ dogged agent), and Ernest’s belated decision to speak out against his uncle and bring an end to the killing (which historical records believe could have led to the deaths of as many as 400 people).
Scorsese, as ever, maintains momentum without making the film seem too procedural, even though there is a lot of plot to get through.
He does this, firstly, by employing a terrific cast - with both DiCaprio and De Niro on scintillating form. They offer a case study in evil: both very different men, yet equally as deplorable as one another.
De Niro is the master manipulator, a seemingly tolerant benefactor who befriends the Native Americans while plotting their demise; all the while building the foundations for his own greedy empire. He’s actually callous in the extreme… a man perfectly at ease with wiping out the Osage as part of what he sees as a natural order, yet who will equally turn on any friend or ally who poses a threat or is no longer of use.
By contrast, Di Caprio’s Ernest is an oafish character; a guileless yes man, complete with sometimes buffoonish downturned mouth, who professes love for his family while being directly complicit in his wife’s demise. He’s a coward, a gambler, and a lazy chancer. You keep waiting for his wake up call to arrive… yet even when deciding to belatedly turn against his uncle and work with the FBI, it’s with a naivety that comes with self preservation (let alone self incrimination) in mind.
In stark contrast is Gladstone’s quietly moving and always riveting Mollie, the film’s one true heart. Gladstone imbues her character with a grace that transcends both her own predicament and that of her tribe. She’s blindly loyal and devoted to Ernest, even when she suspects the worst and is nearing death, which makes her revival and awakening all the more rousing.
Scorsese, for his part, doesn’t allow his film to resort to grandstanding gestures as Ernest and company get their long overdue comeuppance, mindful of the injustice that informed every aspect of this story.
Rather, the victories feel bittersweet, even hollow. While the lessons the film has to impart are timeless and sadly all too resonant.
This is an America founded on theft, on stolen land and assets, on murder and corruption. It has echoes of colonisation and genocide that bear comparison to the plight of many Native American people, while also highlighting the out and out hypocrisy of current politicians who wage hateful wars against immigrants.
It is perhaps unsurprising - again given the current state of play - that justice feels brief and fleeting. Few got the punishments they deserved, while the plight of the Osage Nation had long been forgotten until David Grann’s non-fiction book, Killers of the Flower Moon: The Osage Murders and the Birth of the FBI, was published in 2017 and provided Scorsese with his inspiration.
As a sobering reminder of America’s dark history, and its often horrific relationship to its indigenous people, Killers of the Flower Moon is an essential piece of viewing; a tragedy designed to poke at a nation’s conscience.
Certificate: 15
Running time: 3hrs 30mins