4.5 stars out of 5
I know, you’re waiting to watch this at home on Apple TV+, a half hour here, 42 minutes there, between football games and driving the kids wherever. But if you really love movies — and I know you do — plan a day around seeing Killers of the Flower Moon in the theater, no distractions, no glancing at your phone. Pee first because it’s 3 hours 26 minutes and you don’t want to get all squirrelly.
Martin Scorsese recruited his most trusted associates — Leonardo DiCaprio and Robert DeNiro — to help shine a spotlight on a shameful moment in American history. (The older I get, the more of those I find out about.) I’ll admit this was all unknown to me: The Osage tribe of Oklahoma greatly prospered when oil was discovered on their land. Not at all shockingly, white industrialists and opportunists moved in, trying to cash in and ultimately take control. Systematic murder of Osage citizens was seen as a convenient path to grabbing their extremely valuable land rights.
This particular true story from the 1920s focuses on the long-time powerful “friend” of the Osage, William Hale (DeNiro), and his back-from-the-war nephew Ernest Burkhart (DiCaprio, who is now 49 but is still able to pull off playing younger). When Ernest becomes sweet on full-blooded Osage Mollie (Lily Gladstone, so good as Daniel’s imprisoned mom on Reservation Dogs), Hale sees a golden chance to sweep up not just her land rights, but those of her sisters and their mother as well.
I imagine all three leads will be Oscar-nominated. Leo turns in a compelling character study. His Ernest is… earnest, but also greedy and not too bright, not a winning combination. We want to root for him, we want him to do the right thing, but Hale easily and routinely manipulates Ernest to do his bidding. As his character’s actions and inactions weigh down on him, Leo’s face tires, his mouth drooping to a frown. At this point his voice takes on a slight Sling Blade quality that I found mildly distracting.
DeNiro has a blast as Hale, falsely pious and magnanimous, always with bravado and self-preservation, and quickly given to — when frustrated — to rage. Scorsese knows how to bring out Bobby’s best, never in a cartoonish way. When he clashes with Ernest we see flashes of previous iconic DeNiro performances (including Cop Land and The Untouchables), and it is a thrill to behold.
Lily Gladstone as Mollie is the movie’s heart and soul. Having witnessed the deception and damage to her people, Mollie is cynical and guarded. Gladstone carries herself with reserve and dignity, ever aware of the potential wrongdoing around Mollie. There are subtle shifts in Gladstone’s face and body language as Mollie slowly opens herself to love and vulnerability.
Kudos also to the ever-reliable Jesse Plemons as an injection of decency and light when things are seeming awfully dim.
Super music fan Scorsese employs Jack White, Jason Isbell, Pete Yorn, Sturgill Simpson, and Charlie Musselwhite as actors here. The film is dedicated to Marty’s great friend the late Robbie Robertson, who composed the original music and plays guitar. Of Indian background himself, Robertson smartly uses traditional rhythms and percussion to underscore rising tension. One minor musical gripe: A repeated theme late in the movie sounds a lot like the Sopranos opening, and it took me out of the story for a moment or two.
Overall, though, I was engrossed in this tale. I can’t say 3.5 hours flew by, but the plot was straightforward and easy to follow, the story never drags (there is some Law and Order late in the game that creates a tone shift), and I never lost interest. With references to the 1921 Tulsa Race Massacre and a couple of anti-semitic slurs, Martin Scorsese places the Osage tragedy in a greater context that sadly still resonates. Then the ending is unexpectedly brilliant and left me applauding. Let the prestige film season begin, but this one will be hard to beat.
Jack Silbert, curator