Killers of the Flower Moon is a sprawling, honest masterpiece

Killers of the Flower Moon. // Courtesy Melinda Sue Gordon

In a recent episode of the film-obsessive podcast Blank Check, playwright and filmmaker Leslye Headland gushed about her love of David Fincher’s Zodiac to hosts David Sims and Griffin Newman, claiming it was a movie she felt like she could live inside. You could easily say the same of Martin Scorsese’s Killers of the Flower Moon, which, like Zodiac, tells an immersive, sprawling true crime tale using a strong ensemble of actors, set in a very specific location (in this case 1920s Oklahoma). 

Killers of the Flower Moon has about an hour of runtime on Zodiac, clocking in at a whopping 3 hours and 26 minutes. Don’t let that length deter you, however—Scorsese’s film is so cram-packed with earthy characters, gorgeous shots and fascinating details that the time will fly right by. In fact, don’t be surprised if you feel compelled to watch it again to pick up on everything you missed the first time through.

Based on David Grann’s nonfiction modern classic (a book so frequently referenced in the true crime pantheon it’s hard to believe it was only published in 2017), Killers of the Flower Moon covers the Osage murders of the 1920s in Osage County, Oklahoma. Over a period of several years, a number of wealthy Indigenous Osage with ties to the Oklahoma oil boom mysteriously died. Their deaths were eventually tied to white cattleman William Hale (Robert DeNiro), who sought to acquire the victims’ oil claims. Mollie Burkhart (Lily Gladstone), the wife of Hale’s nephew Ernest (Leonardo DiCaprio), suffered unimaginably as a result of the killings, losing most of her family and community before the FBI—then in its infancy—came to town to investigate.

Killers of the Flower Moon. // Courtesy Melinda Sue Gordon

Scorsese and his collaborators build a detailed world for their characters, one that places equal emphasis on Osage culture and traditions, and the economy that grew up around them in Fairfax, Oklahoma. The production transformed downtown Pawhuska, Oklahoma, the seat of the Osage Nation, to shoot most of the film, and you can see the meticulous attention to detail in every single frame—a dusty mainstreet that becomes a drag race track at a moment’s notice, a guest bed placed on a porch, a thriving backwoods moonshine operation. The setting feels very of its time, but also authentic to the place and people it’s depicting as they exist today. In that sense, you could think of Killers of the Flower Moon as a Great Plains edition of Gangs of New York, depicting a world that feels wholly its own, but with recognizable elements and behaviors.

Part of that unique quality comes from the film’s depiction of the oil-rich Osage, who discovered oil on their land and smartly retained the rights, getting money from companies who worked their claims. Much like Tulsa’s Black Wall Street (the 1921 Tulsa riot gets significant mention in the film), this sudden wealth turns Fairfax into a place where marginalized people hold financial power, leading to a fascinating flipping of the historical power dynamic. 

Members of the Osage Nation wear traditional clothes while being driven in their Pierce Arrows by white drivers. They also sport flapper getups and drink bathtub gin at downtown clubs. It’s a fascinating blend of the time-honored and the modern, but when Mollie’s mother Lizzie Q (Tantoo Cardinal) expresses concern that the incoming cashflow and fast-moving change is endangering the tribe’s culture, you understand her concern.

Killers of the Flower Moon. // Courtesy Melinda Sue Gordon

Of course, the biggest threat to the Osage comes in the form of white greed. De Niro is fascinating as the treacherous Hale, as is DiCaprio as the dim-witted Ernest, who comes to Oklahoma looking for work after WWI and quickly becomes embroiled in his uncle’s long-range scheming, but never doubts his seemingly well-meaning stated motives. Gladstone gives a powerhouse performance as Mollie, exuding confidence and quiet intelligence that, despite all the loss and betrayal she suffers, remains intact from the first time we meet her until the film’s final moments. For everyone else, this story is one of social injustice, crime and intrigue. For Mollie, it’s a horror movie, and she emerges as a unique kind of final girl. 

Mollie’s resilience alongside endless injustice is indicative of the film’s depiction of the Osage Nation as a whole. Killers of the Flower Moon is honest about the racism and evil perpetrated against the tribe, but it doesn’t infantilize them or show them as passive victims. Scorsese is clearly committed to showing the strength and beauty of America’s indigenous cultures in the film, from his casting process to the inclusion of his late friend Robbie Robertson (half Mohawk) in the score, to the film’s moving final shot. 

Much of Killers of the Flower Moon is tragic, but it’s also deeply affirming, committed to depicting this chapter in American and Osage history with integrity. The fact that it does so with such attention, beauty and dramatic richness is what makes it a masterpiece in the true sense of the word, the work of an artist who has achieved mastery over the medium, and the maturity to use that talent as a force for good.