We have been told this story before—about an epidemic of mysterious deaths and murders that struck the Osage tribe in the 1920’s, and how the case was cracked by the new-fangled Federal Bureau of Investigation.
A 1959 movie with Jimmy Stewart, “The FBI Story”, reviewed the case in an episode that ran 10 or 15 minutes. Now, Martin Scorsese focuses on the story for three and a half hours.
When oil is discovered in barren Oklahoma, members of the Osage Nation become instant millionaires. A boom-town atmosphere brings the usual conmen and leeches, but other whites embrace living with the tribe, such as cattleman William “King” Hale, played by Robert De Niro.
In fact, several whites intermarry with Osage women, such as Hale’s nephew, returning war veteran Ernest Burkhart, played by Leonardo DiCaprio. And when the women later die of wasting disease, or diabetes, or “suicide”, or their relations are shot in the head out on the plains, conveniently their white husbands inherit the oil rights.
Fulfilling one of his stated goals, Scorsese shows the perspective of the Osage through the dignity of their ceremonies, their visions of the afterlife and their outrage. The director succeeds most with the performance of Lily Gladstone as Molly Kyle, who shows warmth, strength and a clear-eyed quest for justice, whether she’s confronting President Calvin Coolidge or her husband, Ernest.
Still, this is Martin Scorsese, and most of the film’s dramatic interest, from the director and co-writer Eric Roth, focuses on the machinations of the white killers. We’re not far from “Goodfellas” territory when Ernest nearly bungles a hit and his uncle administers fierce punishment with a Masonic paddle.
The picture’s major achievement, maybe, is exposing the moral rot of its two main characters, who, in their minds, genuinely feel a bond with their victims.
De Niro, who can be folksy and predatory at the same time, plays the kind of paternalistic figure who feels he’s entitled to bestow blessings—but also can snatch them away.
I still don’t know about DiCaprio as Ernest—who loves his wife but connives at her extermination. Is his glum, internalised, guilt-ridden character a little too muddled, or is it one of the actor’s great performances?
I started to think about Brando’s conflicted character in “On the Waterfront”, but there’s no heroic outcome here. We’re in Scorsese/Coppola movie territory, where characters cruelly betray their loved ones.
“Killers of the Flower Moon” may be flawed or uncertain in spots, but it’s monumental, and rates four and a half stars out of five.