Killers of the Flower Moon
Martin Scorsese's latest film has become widely discussed because of its lengthy running time rather than the subject matter, the performances, and the quality of the filmmaking.
This is a shame because it is one of the great man's finest films; a beautifully constructed and powerful epic about a disgraceful and repugnant episode in the United States' recent history.
The film focuses on a World War I veteran, Ernest Burkhart (Leonardo DiCaprio), who has returned from Europe in need of employment. His uncle, William 'King' Hale (Robert De Niro), is heavily involved with the Osage Nation and is seen by many of them as respectful, friendly, and helpful – he speaks their language fluently and is keen to follow their customs.
This avuncular appearance masks a rapacious and cruel nature, a man who wants to take every cent possible from the Osage people by fair means or foul. As part of this, he suggests that his nephew become a chauffeur to Molly Kyle (Lily Gladstone), a single woman who will likely inherit a fortune from the Nation's oil wealth – the long-term plan is to marry her and become a court-appointed guardian of her finances, at which point she will be deemed incompetent and ruined.
I'm not how he does it but DiCaprio has changed his face in a similar way to Billy Bob Thornton in
Sling Blade, almost speaking with a permanent grimace that may be a result of the internal injuries he suffered in Europe, and manages to convey both tenderness and ruthlessness. He is also tender and loving around Molly but willing to go along with Hale's plan to murder Molly's first husband for his life insurance – Ernest is a complicated and conflicted man, a willing puppet of his powerful uncle.
The performances DiCaprio, De Niro, and Lily Gladstone are all superb – Gladstone is very impressive – and the fine ensemble cast features Jesse Plemons, John Lithgow, Brendan Fraser, and an admirable range of Native American actors.
It's a film I'm glad I saw at the cinema because it is a long film that demands your attention, an important commentary on America's relationship with its indigenous people, so watching it without any distractions was important.
Additionally, I saw it on one of the bigger screens so was able to appreciate Rodrigo Prieto's cinematography in a way that wouldn't be as impressive on my 55" TV at home. Unsurprisingly, Thelma Schoonmaker edited the film and did so in a way that made the film feel weighty and important, but never too long or confused. Considering what was on the screen, I have no idea how much was left out to get it down to 'only' 206 minutes!
Finally, Robbie Robertson's score should be singled out for praise because it is a wonderful backdrop to the film, a blues-inflected and beautifully composed piece of music by someone with Cayuga and Mohawk ancestry. It is unfortunate that this 11th collaboration with Scorsese was his last feature film and Robertson died just before the film was theatrically released, so it's fitting that it is dedicated to him.
I would like to watch this again before it disappears from cinemas and will try to avoid one with an interval. It was constructed and edited as one uninterrupted piece, paced accordingly, and I don't think it should be broken up with a 15 minute break so people can go to the toilet or buy a drink – inserting an interval after it was finished artificially changes the film that Scorsese and Schoonmaker directed and edited, respectively, and just feels wrong.
