There is a pitch black core and foundation to Martin Scorsese’s latest masterpiece Killers of the Flower Moon that defies, complicates and depicts with truth the story that is built upon it, that of a love story, that of a crime saga, that of a conspiracy thriller, that of a tale of epic tragedy. There are I feel two ways that one can go about talking about Flower Moon, in that they can either talk about the film itself or talk around the film – I intend to here do a little of talking around the film for it is a film that is fuelled by contextual factors, however there is it seems a factor of those viewing the film who are simply dismissing the fact that once again (to reiterate a word I used with flippancy in the first sentence) that Scorsese has once again crafted a pure masterpiece, in a list of masterful works that one has the pleasure of losing count of. Flower Moon is long, dark and soul-crushing, yet it is also deeply compelling, vastly enthralling and the home of some of the finest filmmaking, writing and performance of the year.
With Flower Moon Scorsese and writer Eric Roth depict the marriage of Mollie and Ernest Burkhart, chosen here as the central plot arc as around them the reign of terror Osage murders rage on and reach their bloodiest peak at the hands of William Hale, a white man affectionately known by many as the King of the Osage hills. The story unravels without any elements of mystery or thriller following its first forty minutes, a choice by Scorsese, Roth and editor Thelma Schoonmaker to avoid notions of sensationalist entertainment with this story. Flower Moon is not some sprawling true crime epic with a thrilling conclusion, it is instead first a depiction of love against a setting of majesty and intrigue as yet undepicted to this level on film, then a slow pained depiction of familial grief amidst a series of murders, followed then by a dark and unsettling tale of conspiracy and murder from the killer’s point of view, before all of these factors culminate in a mirage of misery and pain without much satisfaction in its conclusion. Roth and Scorsese have crafted an arc for this tale around three central figures of Ernest, Mollie and Hale taking turns almost over the course of the films three hour running time to let each figure be put more in the centre. The greatest horror of the film being that the depictions of conspiracy are not so grand and intricate at all, huge atrocities and murders are planned over the course of a few spare scenes where one man talks to another briefly, offers money, relays the fact that native American’s are the target (“well, that’s different” is one particular haunting reply to this information) and then the murders are depicted without visual flourish and often in a simple and blunt static shot. Bluntness is used often by Scorsese and cinematographer Rodrigo Prieto as a tool to effectively depict just how ‘everyday’ and horridly common these violent and meditated occurrences have grown in this part of the world. This matter of factness is best juxtaposed however with the humanity and complexities of the performances the film habitates. Further made haunting, touching and beautiful in the depiction of this horror by Robbie Roberton’s sensational score that balances pure raucous joy with truly melancholic refrains illuminating the overshadowing terror that enveloped this place for so long. Prieto’s work in particular brings a cruel grit to the proceedings with Schoonmaker’s most effective work being her excellent gradual pacing of the film to have it no drag per say at all, paired with a series of playful trickeries with the form that shock and in equal parts awe us.
Let’s for a moment then talk around the film. I have now seen the film twice on the big screen and prior to this read David Grann’s sensational book that the film is based upon, adapted for the screen by Eric Roth. Now much has been made of the script overhaul that occurred around COVID where DiCaprio changed roles from Jesse Plemmon’s Tom White FBI agent figure for Ernest Burkhart, suggesting that the film would work better not played like straight detective investigation non-fiction like Grann’s book with its reveals of duplicity and crime revealing slowly with each investigative turn. But instead depict the film with a more intense focus on Mollie and Ernest, depicting Ernest and Hale’s evil plot as it unfolds, rather than piecing out clues. This is the catch 22 (and then one more catch) that I want to discuss when it comes down to the conversation that has swamped and in certain fields overshadowed this film when it comes to how Scorsese has chosen to tell it. For instance the project was developed it seems with DiCaprio in the role of Tom White and the film playing out like a straight forward detective thriller, I’m sure of course with Scorsese and Roth there would have been nothing “straight forward” about it, but the point stands when it comes to structure. But what is the arc there? Yes, White did manage to solve the fraction of the Osage murders that were perpetrated by Hale and in turn Burkhart, but there was a vast amount of those who were killed that White did not manage to ‘solve’. This would simply frame the film as what many would jump on it as a ‘white saviour’ movie, with the white detective coming down and solving the crime, that he was only allowed via Hoover at the time to solve a fraction of. One particular quote relating to other films rattles around my head, it’s Terry Gilliam when he talked of the difference between Stanley Kubrick’s potential adaptation of Schindler’s List and Steven Spielberg’s eventual film, commenting that (and I am paraphrasing I think) that “the holocaust was about failure, that film was about success”. That’s how I feel about the possible versions of Flower Moon, the way that this film has been made in its current form is the ‘failure’ version of this story and thankfully I believe it’s the best way that this story could have ever been dramatized for film – not that I wasn’t completely enveloped by Grann’s sensational work, but his third part of the book goes into his own further research and how widespread the murders most likely (most definitely) were, but to introduce a modern day reporter at the final hurdle in this film certainly wouldn’t have worked, nor would some tired framing device suit this tale either.
The film holds at its centre three of the finest performances of the year and beyond them a further example of Scorsese’s astounding handling of ensembles with casting directors Ellen Lewis and Rene Haynes not missing in any instance no matter the size of the part. Every single face and performance in the ensemble enriches the film and critiques surrounding Brendan Fraser for instance don’t sit with me as the figure depicted is so clearly as boisterous and performative as Fraser presents him. Fraser and John Lithgow appearing at the final hurdle for two further stellar supporting turns to enrich the film is just a further sign of this casting excellence, with a team of four detectives arriving with 90 minutes left on the film led by a sturdy and subtle Jesse Plemmons to also deepen the bench. With a film of this running time and such a vast ensemble its hard to credit all, but I mean with sincerity that every single figure on screen does excellent work, from the towering grieving performances of variety from Mollies family, with Tantoo Cardinal, Janae Collins, Jillian Dion and a wonderfully feisty yet tragic turn from Cara Jade Myers, to the figures of naïve villainy who simply went about what they saw as cash jobs, from great turns from Louis Cancelmi, Scott Shepherd, Ty Mitchell and a sublime Tommy Schultz. Further we find just even more great work with William Belleau and Jason Isbell as innocents further caught in the evil plot. There is just such a sensational variety of excellence on screen in regards to performance that the film defies any notions of wrongfooting. But it is of course our trio of leads who bolster the film in its pain, terror and tragedy. DiCaprio is so unflinchingly driven, torn and in many ways naïve, with his true motivations and manner played at times for dark laughs. As a matter of fact for what it’s worth the film does indeed contain some of the darkest and funniest moments of Scorsese’s recent era. Gladstone is so sensational as Mollie that she draws the viewer every single time she utters a word or is on screen, no matter who she is on screen with, and in the choice moments when Scorsese utilises his powerful grasp of voiceover, Gladstone offers us a touching and powerful depiction of the troubled interior thoughts so many of these trapped women must have felt. De Niro once again defies any notion that he is beyond his prime and offers a performance of such villainy, of such machiavellian duplicity and of such horrid bitter evil that the race for my favourite supporting actor performance of the year just got an awful lot less easy.
There is
finally one other point of critique regarding if the film should have been told
from Mollie’s point of view. There is an unfortunate bluntness I have to use
when replying to this criticism as anybody who has actually seen the film must
understand; in that frankly it’s not feasible for Mollie to be the centre of
any story for a very long period of time. This is it seems a call for Tarantino-esque
revisionism that does not appeal to Scorsese or Roth in any way shape or form
as they relay and dole out the tragic series of events as and how they actually
occurred. This allows for depictions of conspiracy, this allows for a bounty of
believable, touching, then later unsettling, and later still devastating scenes
with Mollie with her family and Ernest. This allows for a glimpse into the painfully
blasé manner in which these horrors were committed. It does not hold place for un-factual
and un-truthful created scenes where Mollie is given more ‘perceived strength’ beyond
the many scenes of power and pain that really happened that Scorsese, Gladstone
and Roth depict with immense craft.
A truly towering 10/10 achievement that marks as aforementioned yet another masterpiece in Scorsese’s awe-inspiring cannon. There is solid ground here for Scorsese, Schoonmaker and Prieto, even for DiCaprio and De Niro, with work that we have seen facets of great renditions of before, but what makes Flower Moon frankly so mesmerising is the manner in which all of these great figures, not the least of which Scorsese, De Niro and Schoonmaker have managed in what with regret we must accept is the final era of their careers, to create astounding, new and fresh ways to highlight the impeccable work they have done for over fifty years now. Flower Moon also brings in new figures into the fold, the true crowning figure of them all being Gladstone who tears your heart out and yet gives you hope in the face of horror and adversity. Flower Moon is not a simple film, it is not an easy film, it is even at times a deeply emotionally taxing film that plays editing and visual tricks to unsettle us deeper – but it also is a film of beauty and strength, in its text and certainly in its filmmaking.
P.S. Without quite discussing how it unfolds, the ending itself has winded me twice over now and is such a tender, pained and haunting expression of the failures of art, the strength of Mollie as her life continued and the historical ignorance of atrocities that a film that had already astounded me about five times over through its runtime, still managed to give me true goosebumps in its final minutes. And to be frank it upsets me that such a decidedly pointed and effective decision is being reduced by some critics and viewers to some sort of vanity based throat clearing, which the emotionality depicted so clearly defies.
- - Thomas Carruthers
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