‘Killers of the Flower Moon’ review: Martin Scorsese delivers an absorbing experience that falls short of greatness
The Osage natives are shoved into a supporting light in this tale, unfortunately.
Deception can be like taking the long way to hurt someone. When it happens from within, the pain strikes the hardest. The pain can stretch over decades, gathering strength with its indirect impact. The people who tell you everything will be alright can be holding a knife to your back.
Martin Scorsese’s new film, Killers of the Flower Moon, isn’t the easiest movie to watch due to its depiction of the ultimate deception-one that cuts through our history. The roaring 1920s hit differently for the full-blooded Osage Native Americans, carrying a very bittersweet edge. The film opens with the discovery of oil underneath their land and its ensuing celebration, which would usually mean legacies of financial protection and a ticket to the good life. In this land’s painful reality, that only opens them up for the greedy hands of Americans to pick and pull at their overall value as if a human being was an item at Walmart.
At the center of Scorsese’s movie is a seemingly good egg in Ernest Burkhardt (Leonardo DiCaprio), who returns from the war looking for work and finds some with his Uncle Hale (Robert De Niro). William Hale is the kind of guy who gets close to you like a friend, but whose smile carries a bad news edge. A snake with a smile, he climbs into his nephew's head and ignites a desire that was already there. Ernest and Hale’s relationship receives its tripod kickstart in the form of Molly (Lily Gladstone), a full blood Osage tribe member who steals Ernest’s heart and presents a trial of greed and error for Hale and Ernest.
From there, it doesn’t take a road map to figure out what’s coming next. Ernest will be pulled in two different directions, gaining the trust of his Uncle while forming something with Molly. One can only break one way. This is the kind of movie where the characters tell you all about themselves with their own dialogue, instead of an overly chatty narration. It doesn’t take two to unmask someone’s intentions, and the power of the movie doesn’t depend on twists.
Based on the best selling novel of the same name, the actions and repercussions that take place here hit you right in the belly, but they don't find a way to your heart due to the focus of the movie's plot. While Scorsese made headlines about rewiring his screenplay to take the onus off "all the white guys," the reality is Killers of the Flower Moon is still mostly about... all the white guys. Scorsese puts his personal touch on the story, both behind the camera and from the page, but he doesn't show many fresh moves with such an important story. You can feel the Scorsese gangster vibrations reverberate through the script he co-wrote with Eric Roth. The dark chill in Flower Moon is how ordinary and straightforward the murders are filmed. It happens without a big change in the tone of the score, even carrying zero sound at times. Wherever greed lives, killing’s as easy as breathing.
The non-flashy style supplements a cast that doesn’t go over the top in performance, letting the material lead the tough way. DiCaprio knows how to set the stove to a low heat and work his way up, while De Niro’s benevolence shines clearly through his slow burn southern accent. Gladstone can do a lot with a simple stare, but makes you feel the brunt of every attack on her family with a performance that gathers power. Molly has an older-than-her-age savviness to the tragedy, understanding where the storm clouds lie better than most yet still clashing into its path of wrath. Cara Jade Myers and Tantoo Cardinal are terrific in supporting roles, while John Lithgow makes for a nice third act reliever when the trials begin. This movie doesn’t carry a weak link in its cast.
It’s hard to stand back and point out a particular aspect of the film that doesn’t work; the steady hand and avoidance of melodrama fits the material, stories that don’t need an extra cinematic punch drop added late. What's missing is the true WOW factor that should follow a Scorsese production. As he climbs up there in years, his filmmaking pace is predictably slowing down. This movie carries all the vigor and anticipation of a Christopher Nolan movie; heck, Scorsese was cracking film reels when the Inception director was just a kid. But this year, it's Nolan's Oppenheimer (and Greta Gerwig's Barbie for that matter) that tower over this Flower Moon.
Killers of the Flower Moon won’t make you feel good and may only be a one-time only watch. I mean, how many times did you watch Schindler’s List, or Hotel Rwanda? But the impact of those films is missing here, because the focus is all on the bad guys--and unlike The Dark Knight, that's not a particularly good thing. The third act tries to twist the audience into a morality contest that was decided 80 minutes prior in the you-will-feel-it running time.
Yet, a movie can be powerful without being beloved and begging for further introspection. There’s a good reason why I could suck in three hours of The Wolf of Wall Street right now for the eighth time, and bypass this one again like the well-made yet equally hard to watch The Silence. While compellingly told, there is a lack of sizzle to the overall construction of Flower Moon. I didn’t leave it and immediately anoint it Best Picture. As one critic said after the screening, it’s a lot to take in. For me, a lot of it isn't memorable enough to remember a favorite scene.
Three hours and 26 minutes later, I was satisfied with the quality of the film without being blown away by it. I could even say more was expected. Gladstone, Myers, and Cardinal all put backbone into the Osage angle-making it easy for the viewer to get close enough to feel the betrayal and cold-blooded intentions.
Scorsese shows a mercurial restraint in the bloodshed at times, going more blunt in other moments. There’s a fine balance struck by the work of the cast and aesthetic, making it easy to fall into and harder to escape mentally. That doesn’t mean the film walks a straight line. Rock music may fill the early moments of oil discovery, but it’s a dry humor that afflicts the unconventional climax.
If there’s a genuine awards threat here, it’s Gladstone. Like Molly, she cuts through all hate and suspense with a single expression, a potent mix of hope and dread. You believe it, because you believe her. Without her work, the film could slink towards a more average rating, talent and weight of the subject be damned.
Rating: The weekend after it comes out is fine.
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Dan Buffa
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