For the Osage Nation, a Native American tribe, the flower moon brings health and rejuvenation. As the moon rises in May, flowers begin to bloom, and the medicine they hold becomes accessible. These flowers, which were supposed to bring health and life, instead signaled the beginning of the “Reign of Terror” — a string of gruesome murders — in the early 1920s, thus killing the flower moon.
After the Osage Nation was forced out of their native lands in Kansas by white settlers, the government allowed them to live in what is now known as the Osage Hills of Oklahoma. The land was rough, uninhabitable and seemingly worthless — but in 1897, massive amounts of oil were discovered on the land. The Osage tribe soon became incredibly wealthy by earning a percentage of the oil sales via their ancestral blood rights, creating a flipped social hierarchy — the Native Americans were rich, and whites worked below them as maids and chauffeurs. Then Osage people were violently killed without investigation.
In the movie, this tragedy is what led to the birth of the FBI, something that the script originally focused heavily on in David Grann’s journalistic-style book. Director Martin Scorsese chose to focus the film on the Osage people who were impacted by the Reign of Terror. Grann suspects this intricate conspiracy to have a death toll in the hundreds, and focuses his analysis on the crippling realization that the American justice system failed in solving the numerous murders that occurred in the Osage Nation.
Scorsese’s three-and-a-half-hour film follows the life of Mollie Burkhart (Lily Gladstone), an Osage woman. We watch her husband, a challenged Ernest Burkhart (Leonardo DiCaprio), and his deceitful uncle William Hale (Robert De Niro) plot against the clueless Mollie, who only wishes to see the best in her husband. It is only with the arrival of federal agent Tom White (Jesse Plemons) that the truth begins to rise to the surface, despite persistent attempts to muffle it.
The Reign of Terror takes Mollie’s family by bullet, poison, explosion and even a mysterious “wasting illness.” She’s torn between being a symbol of resistance for her tribe and getting rid of a woman who is absolutely wrecked with grief as everyone in her family, including her own daughter, is murdered.
De Niro’s portrayal of Hale is chilling. While it’s no surprise that De Niro and Scorsese are working together, given their past collaborations in films like “Goodfellas” and “The Irishman,” it’s through this role that his talent shines brightest. The duality of a charming uncle and family man, when coupled with his murderous intent, leaves audiences with a sense of unease. As his character grows sloppier with his planning, he also becomes more confident in his connections through the town’s bureaucracy. Many of the townspeople were either bought off or intimidated by Hale’s influence. As De Niro’s thousand-yard stare becomes heavier throughout the film, he slowly — and wordlessly — reveals the questionable morality of the character.
On the contrary, Mollie and Ernest’s marriage was confusing, and rightfully so. DiCaprio portrayed Ernest’s indecision well as a returning soldier who admired his uncle but was also deeply in love with Mollie. When reading Grann’s book, it is difficult to have empathy for Ernest. DiCaprio’s dedication to the character creates a multi-faceted individual who is simultaneously both the protagonist and antagonist. His deep admiration for Mollie is evident throughout the film, but he also plans and helps execute her sister’s murder. Ernest struggles deeply with dedicating himself either to his wife or his uncle, a dilemma that lasts until the last minute.
Mollie’s compassion is evident throughout the film when it comes to her family. However, the audience grows increasingly concerned with the lengths her compassion will go to when it comes to Ernest. There’s no doubt they’re in love — despite their relationship being heavily flawed — but Ernest’s repeated love for money trumps his love for Mollie more times than not. He’s easily manipulated by his uncle, yet seemingly forgets about all of his wrongdoings when Mollie’s in the room. He doesn’t see Mollie as an Osage woman — she’s his wife, and by separating those two parts of her identity, Ernest finds a gray area to live in.
The audience lives through Mollie’s entire life. Throughout the film’s epic runtime of long and centric shots, we watch her grow, fall in love, struggle with her diabetes and deal with the loss of her loved ones. Despite her shortsightedness toward Ernest, she was a deeply intelligent woman who deserved rightful answers about her tribe’s murders. There is hope for a happy ending for her until the very end, despite knowing that America’s history when it comes to oil, colonialism and capitalism is anything but happy. While Ernest’s love may be true, it is not healthy.
Ernest’s centric moment is when he willingly takes part of the poison he has been giving to Mollie — never to kill, only to “slow her down” — and thus follows a hazy, psychedelic scene of fire with the world burning outside their windows.
In what could potentially be Scorsese’s final film, “Killers of the Flower Moon” acts as a grand and epic spectacle disguised as a riveting murder mystery. Scorsese channels his empathy and compassion, crafting what is undoubtedly a monumental achievement of contemporary American cinema.
Contact Julia Diorio at [email protected].
