Horror must take a backseat to a huge release like this. Would you believe, this is my first time seeing a Martin Scorsese movie in cinemas? Of course, I was atop The Irishman when it came out, but that was released on Netflix; and I missed The Wolf of Wall Street, and overlooked Silence, which is a movie that isn’t spoken nearly enough about.
Ernest Burkhart (Leonardo DiCaprio) returns home following the first World War, to Osage country, where the Native Americans hold the title to land that has strike oil, making them the richest people around. Ernest’s uncle, prominent town developer William King Hale (Robert De Niro), suggests that Ernest get sweet on Mollie Kyle (Lily Gladstone), an unmarried Osage woman with claim to a huge fortune. Mollie and Ernest fall in love, marry, have children, and settle in a fledging town where murders are piling up, and the authorities are too slow to act if the victims be red.
It’s so strange to see a crime movie where the rich people are the people of colour, and the rich are the good guys. Think of Robin Hood and all those knockoffs, where to steal from the rich to give to the poor is a noble adventure, and the ignorant rich kind’ve deserve it. But this movie presents a fascinating cultural dynamic, and one, we find out, where money doesn’t necessarily translate to power, for the Indians have money, but it’s the white settler system that dominates, and the system looks after its own. Now, I may not be a learned man, and everyone has their blind-spots, but I was staggered to discover that I knew nothing about this part of human history – I’ve been walking around believing that natives and non-westerners have always been at the bottom trying to work their way up, and have never been in such a favourable position of wealth. I always thank movies like Killers of the Flower Moon, just for educating me, where, similarly mentioned here, are the 1921 Tulsa riots, that I only found out about through watching the TV series Watchmen a few years ago – and history continues to prove bloodier just when you think you’ve heard its bloodiest ☹ These sorts of stories, containing duplicitous organised crime, are well-established to be Martin Scorsese’s wheelhouse, aren’t they? After covering gang warfare throughout America’s history so reverently for decades, Scorsese has also branched out to other shysters who have shaped the ‘States, with The Wolf of Wall Street and now this, and it continues to be a privilege to watch Scorsese do what he does best.
And I used to think it a great trivia question – what movie stars both Leonardo DiCaprio and Robert De Niro as leads? The only answer used to be the relatively obscure movie, This Boy’s Life, from 1993. Well, now that’s over. But it’s only right that Marty’s boys align again for him – DiCaprio now has six movies to his name as Scorsese’s lead, and De Niro has a tenth under his belt. First things first, De Niro is spot on. The corners of his mouth are always down, so you know he’s got to be good 🤣 All kidding aside, it’s fantastic to see a De Niro role that I can point to as a moment I got to experience – The Irishman, for all its de-aging, seemed a stretch to recapture the De Niro glory days, and shite like Dirty Grampa has simply been the Hollywood legend dining out on his love of acting, and power to him. But this… dis… dis is Oscar worthy, and I doubt anyone is going to push him out of contention for a Slice Award neither 🥮 It’s just a privilege watching DiCaprio and De Niro sit down to share a scene together, much like how I felt watching Tom Hanks and Meryl Streep do the same in The Post. I’m expecting to see some comparisons between De Niro’s William King and Donald Trump too, and let’s face it, if you search for long enough, you can find a liberal point of view comparing Trump to any villain over the past eight years anyway; but it’s more in the way King boasts about being there for the townspeople, while it’s clear to everyone that he’s self-interested first, and the showing he makes when federal charges are thrown his way, that furrowed my brow to the connection.
Conversely, there’s actually a late scene at the home of Ernest and Mollie, that consolidated for me that I was missing something with their characters. I found Killers of the Flower Moon to be most fun when it’s unclear how deep Ernest is in with King’s conspiracies, but after Mollie’s mother dies, and for a while after, it’s pretty clear that Earnest’s hands are plenty dirty. There’s the early scene, where Earnest is adamant he knows how to read, that sets up Earnest’s character as suggestive, and the perfect patsy for King’s schemes, but there isn’t anything for a long time to scrutinise Earnest’s conflicting disposition, where we watch him profess his love for his wife, but be at the dead center of every criminal enterprise over town. The next scene that comes close to where I thought I knew what was looking at, is the lawyer scene, where attorney W.S. Hamilton (Brendan Fraser) and a roomful of accomplices are more than concerned that the upcoming case rests on the actions of this dope. But due to this, and for most of the movie, I felt like Ernest was kept at arms-length, and I didn’t feel like I was watching anyone but Leonardo DiCaprio, with his noticeable mouthpiece doing most of the work. Although, by the end, I think I must come to terms with that this is what Ernest is; a character wherein lies an irrational contradiction, somewhat stranger than fiction – Earnest does love his wife, but he’s also fine with poisoning her and bumping off her family 😶 Headcase. And it lands with a resounding acknowledgement when Earnest is now certain he is uncompromisingly true to his wife, but still can’t admit that he poisoned her. I do admire that while DiCaprio often excels with a similar style of deep character – in control, but often stressed out with what he does – they all have their own shading, and I now wonder how high Earnest Burkhart will ultimately sit in the grand DiCaprio pantheon.
In a similar way, I also yearned for more of Mollie’s insight. The scene where Mollie’s voiceover conveys how every white man is a potential wolf at the door, while she walks through the train station, is one of my favourite moments of the movie, and I suppose, a great depiction of how all peoples can feel fear in the face of racism, or women to men as sexual predators – I think it’s a depiction that will prove an educational example for me, and something I’ll draw upon for empathy in upcoming arguments. However, Mollie is sick in bed for most of the movie, and although she must be wrestling with her family dying, and being able to trust the man who loves her, we don’t get much of her perspective again (perhaps, when she decides against her insulin, until Ernest’s pleas convince her that he’s compassionate, is an example of this). Therefore, I suppose I’m saying I just wish I’d connected with both Ernest and Mollie for longer, if not for the events of the actual story standing in the way, so I mustn’t be greedy. But I do think that Mollie’s “Osage silence” may’ve gotten the best of Ernest in the end, because at the time Ernest finally decides to confess against King, so to side with his family, Mollie must’ve known that Ernest had been poisoning her, and there’s no way she was staying with him. And so, the movie does ultimately show a strength in her stoicism, although I adored it when we got Mollie’s perspective.
And I just want to make mention of two minor characters, Blackie Thompson (Tommy Schultz) and John Ramsey (Ty Mitchell) as unique, for the vast array of movies I’ve seen. Blackie is a go-to man for mischief, and whilst the movie doesn’t play it for humour, everything humbly backfires on him 🤣 And John Ramsey is the ‘reluctant assassin’ – he just wants to work his day job, but the bosses keep haranguing him to go be up to no good 🤣 I’m just used to lackies being completely obedient. Lastly, I don’t know where else to put this, but let me just put it on record that Jesse Plemmons is the most talented blank slate in Hollywood 🤣 He talks and looks the same in every show he’s in, but he can be a lawman, or believable serial killer, to everything in between. I’m enamoured by him; I don’t know how he does it!
I, for one, don’t mind the length of Killers of the Flower Moon, but there are times where I’m sure it could’ve been shorter; not that I can point to a particular scene in mind that could be easily cut. Buyer beware of the large soda that accompanies your popcorn though, for I surely spent the last hour of the movie shaking my knee to pee, but not wanting to miss a single second making my way to the bathroom. Favourably, the movie’s length does facilitate for possibilities like Ernest flipflopping between confessing to the government or lying for his uncle, and back again, and it’s also best to be as precise as possible when it comes to understanding true crime with lasting ramifications. Although, plot specific, I also would’ve liked a stronger answer to a scenario where Indian men may’ve married white women, and I’m curious to know how that power dynamic might’ve played out – with a runtime of over 3.5 hours, and a story revolving around whites marrying Osage for money, I’m surprised this couldn’t be fit in. But Killers of the Flower Moon is still yet another dedicated mark of genius from a professional artisan. The ending that becomes a surprise stage play, is wonderous just in a sense for me getting to see how they used to relay stories back in the day, while not really much has changed for us going to the movies, and seeing splendiferous true crime brought back to being as fantastical drama. Through movies, we so luckily get a glimpse back in safety, at the past and to a feeling, reaching insight into different times and ways of living, that are so meaningful. Then Marty coming out, and takes over as the play’s announcer, and I think it’s so important, to help recognise and reenergize that this tale is real. When Marty first took the stage, I may’ve quarreled at the thought of another indulgent director cameo, like M. Night Shyamalan, or Olivia Wilde, Elizabeth Banks, and Taika Waititi have annoyingly taken to, but Scorsese seldom does that, and him being there makes a point as a story framing technique, bringing this gigantic movie literally back to reality, and elevating the entire production. It’s these types of ideas that surprise and keep great cinema great. Nice one.
4.5
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