At the dawn of the twentieth century, oil was discovered on the Osage Nation Reservation, in Northeastern Oklahoma. The tribe was relatively small at that time—around 2,000 members—due largely to epidemics that had decimated the population after contact with European settlers in their native Midwest. The United States government forced the Osage into Oklahoma, but the tribe purposely chose rocky, infertile land so whites would be less likely to steal it. Unlike most other tribes, the Osage were able to buy their land and retain the mineral rights. After the discovery of oil, they became the wealthiest people, per capita, on Earth.
It didn’t take long before white oilmen, bankers, lawyers, con-men, and outlaws of all stripes descended upon the Osage. The Osage Allotment Act of 1906 was intended to end the tribe’s communal way of living by dividing the land into parcels for each family to own. By the 1920s, awash with oil money, tribal members were spending lavishly. In 1921, Congress passed a law that gave white “guardians” oversight of their fortunes. Then, suddenly, some of the wealthiest Osage began dying mysteriously.
This is the backdrop for Martin Scorsese’s epic and elegiac new film, Killers of the Flower Moon, which is based on David Grann’s bestselling 2017 book of the same title. The film, like the book, tells the true story of the Osage murders—the “Reign of Terror,” as it became known—and the subsequent investigation by the FBI. The film is part crime story, part romance, and part courtroom drama, but ultimately it is a crushing portrayal of the dire effects of rapacious capitalism on the Osage’s traditional way of life.
Killers of the Flower Moon stars Scorsese’s two favorite leading men: Leonardo DiCaprio and Robert DeNiro. DiCaprio plays Ernest Burkhart, a white war veteran who has arrived on the reservation to profit from the oil wells. DeNiro plays William Hale, Burkhart’s uncle and a successful cattle rancher. A longtime resident of the lands, Hale is highly influential and viewed by many as a benefactor of the Osage.
But early in the film, the audience is tipped off to Hale’s egotism and avarice, as he demands to be called king—as in “King of the Osage Hills”—and convinces Burkhart to marry an Osage woman named Mollie Kyle so Burkhart can inherit her headright, a quarterly distribution of funds derived from the Osage Mineral Estate. DeNiro is effectively despicable in his role as Hale. Lily Gladstone, a Native American actress who grew up on the Blackfeet Reservation in Montana, plays Mollie. Gladstone has tribal affiliations with Kainai, Amskapi Piikani, and Nimi’ipuu First Nations.
Over the course of the film’s three-and-a-half hour run time, the true-life murder story drives the narrative. But the marriage between Ernest and Mollie provides the film’s emotional crux. In fact, of the performances of the three starring actors, Gladstone’s was the one that knocked me out. The conflict between Osage spirituality and white materialism is embodied in her marriage, and Gladstone brilliantly evokes the resignation of an exploited people through her sad eyes and reluctant smile.
In Mollie’s cautious optimism with Ernest, her giddy rapport with her sisters, and her illness and final heartbreak, Gladstone’s performance is note-perfect.
DiCaprio turns in a bravura performance as well. He plays Ernest Burkhardt as an easily manipulated rube with a charming side. His accent reflects a touch of Billy Bob Thornton's character in the film Sling Blade. This initially turned me off, but the ambiguity he conveys in Ernest’s intentions makes his performance extremely powerful. Did he marry Mollie only for her money, or does he truly love her? He keeps us guessing. One standout scene shows Ernest telling Mollie, with a mere shake of his head, that her sister Rita has been killed. Ernest’s expression is full of anguish and empathy. And as Hale’s plot unfolds and wreaks its havoc, Ernest begins to unravel. By the end, we aren’t sure whether he will stay loyal to his uncle or betray him. The slow burning tension makes for high drama.
Killers of the Flower Moon stands with Scorsese’s best films; for me, those are Raging Bull and Goodfellas. A straight comparison with those two films is impossible, however, because they are vastly different. The film’s closest companion in the director’s filmography is Gangs of New York, due to its scope and focus on history—although Flower Moon is by far the stronger work. The one minor flaw in the new film is that several of the villains are so obviously bad guys that they veer into the cartoonish.
As for the film’s technical aspects, the cinematography and set design are astounding, transporting viewers straight to the 1920s. The screenplay, by Scorsese and Eric Roth, manages to stay faithful to the book without including every single character involved in the conspiracy. It also avoids turning the film into a white savior story by giving the Osage their proper due in helping to solve the murders, such as in Mollie's hiring of a private detective or when the tribe sends a delegate to Washington to get the FBI involved. (Scorsese has said his initial script neglected to give the Osage enough agency, so he rewrote it.) And Scorsese’s direction is as good as ever: He wields innovative techniques to condense the complex narrative, such as silent-era title cards, newsreels, and a radio segment that provides an epilogue.
The best part of this film are the scenes that honor the traditional ways of the Osage. I found the death scenes particularly moving because, in these moments, the tragedy of their people really hits home. As we watch tribal member after tribal member slip away, surreal images appear at their bedsides. When Mollie’s mother, Lizzie, finally succumbs to poison, for instance, an Osage warrior, painted blood red, leads her off into a serene landscape—devoid of oil wells, banks, or billiard halls.
Palast Investigative Fund (c)2023
Everett Wall, chair of the Osage Minerals Council from Greg Palast and George DiCaprio’s documentary, “Long Knife: Osage Oil and the New Trail of Tears,” scheduled to be released in 2024.
Despite these narrative accomplishments, neither Scorsese nor Grann has told the entire story. The investigative journalist Greg Palast has been researching the tragedy of the Osage for almost three decades, and he is gearing up to release a documentary produced by George DiCaprio with help from son Leonardo, that Palast says will tell “the hidden story of the Osage over the 100 years since the Reign of Terror.” The documentary, called Long Knife, promises to implicate the Koch Brothers in “crimes against the Osage.” A teaser for Long Knife is available here.
Killers of the Flower Moon premieres in theaters October 20.