In the 1920s, the Osage Nation, a Native American tribe, was blessed with the discovery of oil from underneath their land. The tribe became immensely wealthy overnight, at one point becoming the wealthiest people per capita in the world. This wealth was bound to have consequences, however, as it attracted the unwanted interests of white Americans who would go to great lengths to secure and funnel all that wealth into their own pockets.

Ernest Burkhart (Leonardo DiCaprio) and William King Hale (Robert De Niro) are perhaps among the most vicious of them, and their plan starts with Burkhart’s marriage to an Osage woman, Mollie (Lily Gladstone), who is set to inherit a great fortune from her dying mother. An immediate problem, however, is her siblings who will occupy huge shares of that inheritance, and the duo intend to fix that.

Killers of the Flower Moon is a heavy film to watch, both in terms of its subject matter and its length. The film tackles a mostly-forgotten chapter of modern American history that is gruelling, heart-wrenching, and disgusting. I am not American, neither white nor Indian, yet I felt my guts turned inside out while watching the atrocities that Burkhart, Hale, and the others unleashed on the Osage people.

Adapted from the 2017 non-fictional book of the same name by David Grann, the film takes a different perspective into the story from the book. While the script initially centres around a BOI (Bureau of Investigation, later known as the FBI) agent, Thomas White, and his investigations of the Osage murders as the book did, the filmmakers decide to pivot and find a different way into the story through Ernest Burkhart’s character. This change in direction is, in my opinion, brilliant, as it allows the film to explore the Osage Nation from the perspective of an outsider who becomes deeply rooted in the Osage society. The result is a sweeping narrative that starts with Burkhart taking in the vibrant Osage tribe and wealth as he first returns to his ranch after the war. His innocence is then eroded and his appetite is expanded by his uncle who claims to be a true friend of the Osage, leading to the unrecoverable damage he does to the tribe.

Scorsese’s filmmaking needs no further praise. His collaboration with editor Thelma Schoonmaker brings wonderful results as always. The opening sequence of a sombre pipe burial ceremony by the Osage elders is immediately juxtaposed with Osage youth joyously dancing in gushing oil; Hale’s praise of the Osage’s intelligence is juxtaposed with an increasingly horrifying montage of dead Osage with the screen framing them like bodies in a coffin. These juxtapositions early in the film set the tone immediately, hinting at an impending doom on the tribe.

The film is claustrophobic at times when you realise you have no idea who you can trust. The scheme by the uncle-nephew is insidious, infiltrating the Osage tribe and slowly poisoning it. This is most portrayed through the fate of Burkhart’s wife, Mollie, who becomes increasingly ill at her husband’s hands. The film makes me feel every bit of the insidiousness of the plan and the paranoia that Mollie feels. It reminds me of the brilliant one-day sequence in Goodfellas where Scorsese shows you the paranoia, the dread of being caught (or worse killed), and the anxiety while stirring the tomato sauce in a normal day in Henry Hill’s life as a gangster. In Killers, I experience a similar rising sense of terror as Mollie struggles to navigate the unfolding tragedy, unaware of the involvement of the people she trusts most.

Killers has a substantial runtime of 206 minutes (3 hours and 26 minutes), and unfortunately, I did feel its length, particularly toward the end. The film takes its time to tell its story, often at the expense of tighter scenes and pacing. It is, in my opinion, at least half an hour too long for the story it portrays. More effective editing and discipline in cutting down sequences would have improved the film further.

Leonardo DiCaprio is excellent as the central character, Ernest Burkhart. Donning a grimace and an underbite, DiCaprio brought to life the conflicted nature of this pushover who does not have the ambition of his uncle nor the will to fight what’s wrong. However, in my opinion, he was overshadowed by Robert De Niro as William Hill, the mastermind and the truly vicious ‘friend’ of the Osage. De Niro’s performance is captivating, often commanding the screen completely despite the presence of DiCaprio and Gladstone. Every smirk, every stare, and every glance terrify me in different ways, yet there is something unnerving about how comforting his character can be on the surface. Lily Gladstone is brilliant as Mollie, Burkhart’s wife. Strong and confident, she breaks down gradually as her family crumbles around her, falls terribly ill and becomes paranoid. Gladstone brings equal amounts levity and weight to her character, wrenching my heart as I witness the tragedy that befallen Osage women.

The late Robbie Robertson’s score provides a sonic coherence to the film that parallels Scorsese’s early masterpiece Taxi Driver. Blending blues, folk and tribal elements, the score conjures to mind the Oklahoma landscape as beautifully captured by cinematographer Rodrigo Prieto, as well as the creeping dread that is eating away at the community. The heart thumps heard throughout the score reflect my own as I grow increasingly uneasy by the tragedy unfolding. The film is cinematic, gorgeous and sometimes hypnotising, drawing me into the world of the film with simple shots like that of a house in a downpour, of burning flames, and of flower fields.

All in all, Killers of the Flower Moon is a film about a largely forgotten tragedy in modern history that deserves to be told and watched on the big screen. It is emotional, heart wrenching and at times repulsive, as it should be. Despite its lengthy runtime, I highly encourage everyone to experience this latest cinematic gem by none other than the great Martin Scorsese.

Author: Chia Jing Heng (andreusjh99)