Best Pictures #103: 2023 (96th) Academy Awards Best Picture Nominee
"Can you find the wolves in this picture?"
David Grann’s captivating nonfiction book, The Killers of the Flower Moon, about the series of murders of members of the Osage nation in Oklahoma in the 1920’s unfolds like a mystery. Director and co-writer Martin Scorsese’s epic length adaptation makes clear who the killers are right from the start. They are not masterminds—criminals in Scorsese movies rarely are—but they are white in reservation country and powerful, or close to power, and corrupt. When oil is discovered on the Osage land, its people become wealthy and make good lives for themselves. The catch is that many Osage are declared legally “incompetent” and are restricted access to their own money without a (white) guardian. Wolves in sheep's clothing circle and then the murders begin.
Leonardo DiCaprio plays Ernest Burkhart, a World War I veteran with a stomach injury who returns to Oklahoma looking for as little work as possible. His uncle, William Hale (Robert De Niro), a wealthy and powerful cattle baron, who doesn’t mind if you call him “King'', sets him up with a job as a chauffeur, one of many who drive wealthy Osage clients. Ernest’s regular customer is Mollie (Lily Gladstone), a full blood Osage, who he falls for and eventually wins over. They marry, meaning that Mollie’s oil “headrights” will go to Ernest if she dies. If her sisters and mother die before her, their oil rights will go to Mollie then to Ernest. Uncle “King'' Hale is pleased with this.
Ernest is a different kind of role for DiCaprio, who turns in one of his best performances. Ernest has his own kind of charm and insists to his uncle that he’s not thick, but he is a dimwit. His love for Mollie seems genuine but he does not see that Hale pushed him to pursue and marry Mollie. He also has no problem following his uncle’s order to kill off certain Osage tribe members, even Mollie’s sister. His inner toil and conflict about what is happening arrives far later than they should have, in part because he is dim and in part because he doesn’t want to admit it to himself, but it makes for some strong and powerful scenes from DiCaprio.
We spend less time with Mollie than Ernest or Hale, but she is the sympathetic center of the movie. In her early scenes she is quiet and reserved but with an easy to detect liveliness underneath. In the scenes where she must ask her banker, a proud member of the KKK, for her own money she conveys a quiet disdain and defiant dignity. She is diabetic and Hale has arranged for her to receive special insulin shots, with an extra ingredient he’s told Ernest to add.
Why did the Osage not see that Hale was a villain? Many scenes of Killers of the Flower Moon reminded me of Henry Hill’s words in Scorsese’s Goodfellas, “...nobody ever tells you that they're going to kill you, doesn't happen that way... your murderers come with smiles, they come as your friends, the people who've cared for you all of your life.” William “King” Hale spoke Osage, knew and respected their customs, went out of his way to become involved in their lives, and even contributed $1000 to the Osage fund to investigate the killings. De Niro, giving one of his best performances in a very impressive career, is excellent as a wolf in sheep’s clothing; a gentle, avuncular personality who expressed nothing but concern and respect for his Osage neighbors while conspiring with lowlife scum to kill them. The setting and clothes are different but he is still just a greedy gangster.
There is no way around Killers of the Flower Moon’s intimidating runtime of 3 ½ hours—actually 3 hrs 26 min but that may as well be 3 ½ hours—but it earns its epic length and uses it wisely. The murders did not happen in a spree but spread over years and we see only a handful of them. Life continues, happily even, and then one night someone is shot, then one day a woman succumbs to the “wasting sickness.” Jesse Plemons as Agent Tom White of the newly formed Bureau of Investigation—now the FBI—does not show up until just over 2 hours into the movie. His part is not big but Plemons is a welcome presence because a new chapter of the story begins and perhaps now relief is at hand.
Scorsese is synonymous with gangster movies and has been accused of glamorizing the criminal lifestyle. He has admitted that to a certain degree this is necessary to show the allure of the criminal life. However, the bulk of any of those movies is dedicated to showing that though these characters find wealth and power, and are at times relatable and even funny, they are not good people and their reckless, destructive, violent behavior was not worth anything. With his later movies like The Departed (2006), The Wolf of Wall Street (2013), The Irishman (2019), and now Killers of the Flower Moon (2023), Scorsese has gone out of his way to not glamourize these characters in any way at all. There is nothing appealing about De Niro’s “King” Hale; he is only a rich and endlessly greedy man. Ernest is an average guy but a puppet, not in control over anything about his life. Every other criminal they deal with, even if they are memorable–and indeed many are–they are not admirable in any way, even if they provide some dark comic relief.
The film’s epilogue, which I won’t go into detail on, is maybe the most striking and even experimental piece of filmmaking Scorsese has ever done. It is jarring and even confusing at first. The film makes a self aware and reflective comment on itself and asks the audience to do the same. The final line, spoken softly and plainly, lands like a gut punch, staying with the audience long after the credits roll. This is a difficult film, an entertaining film, a challenging film, a great film. Scorsese is a magician who, in what should be his sunset years, continues to amaze.
