Killers of a Flower Moon Review – A flawed adaptation
Director: Martin Scorsese
Writers: Eric Roth & Martin Scorsese
Stars: Leonardo DiCaprio, Robert De Niro, and Lily Gladstone
Running Time: 206 minutes
Please note there may be spoilers below.
Martin Scorsese’s Killers of a Flower Moon is closest in spirit to his 2002 epic Gangs of New York. Without the opinions of Harvey Weinstein to contend with, Scorsese’s director’s cut of Gangs of New York had been close to the maximalist size, scale, and length of Killers of a Flower Moon, both movies completely enamored with rebuilding violent American history. As Gangs of New York focuses on operatic melodrama, Killers of a Flower Moon can be reduced to a crime procedural led by conniving, weaselly men. And similar to Gangs of New York, Killers of a Flower Moon is both compelling and flawed. Scorsese uses David Grann’s bestseller about the true 1920s murders as a guide to paint a wide canvas that provides a fascinating exploration of a tragic story but also leaves us more exhausted than exhilarated.
It’s worth mentioning David Grann’s bestseller never decides on a primary character to follow – at times we follow Molly Burkhart, the wealthy Osage woman at the center of the titular killings, forced to watch her entire cultural history heartrendingly disappear around her. Sometimes we follow Ernest Burkhart, her seemingly dedicated husband, or Tom White, the steadfast and disciplined FBI agent, who is assigned by J. Edgar Hoover to solve the country’s most unsolvable and notorious case. The book glides between each, ultimately settling into the shoes of the courageous Tom White for the final act. Scorsese’s adaptation sticks only with two primary characters for it’s entire 206 minute running time – Ernest Burkhart (Leonardo DiCaprio) and William King Hale (Robert De Niro), whilst the others are relegated to supporting players.
It’s the major flaw in what’s an ambitious two-act affair. The first half explores how the most nefarious of individuals can manipulate an entire County. William Hale, part-time philanthropist, full-time crime-boss, has a way of speaking to his nephew Ernest that is both fatherly and villainous. There is no mystery here. Immediately the film has already laid its cards on the table – William and Ernest will destroy the lives of the Osage around them, even if Ernest lives a double life of denial and guilt. Ernest is encouraged by Hale to marry into the oil rich Osage tribe, and marry he does.
In the early scenes, Scorsese’s energetic flair defies his 80 years as we witness the social fabric of an economically unbalanced society. Photographers chase the uber-rich Osage people for portraits that cost a fortune to the average person. As the murders pile up, we understand funeral directors charge the Osage many times the price of a white man for a burial casket. As he’s done many times, Scorsese lights up at the opportunity to depict history in the making by reminding us how people have been unfairly treated since time immemorial. The world building of the first act is a masterclass in colliding events as scene by scene we descend into the slow and hellish proceedings of genocide.
De Niro aptly inhabits the narcissistic morality of Hale, a man who can order the murder of a woman in one moment and then kiss the head of her sister in the next. The purpose is to heat your blood to a slow boil for the opening half until you’re desperate for some form of justice, a justice the Osage so rarely received. But I have to say it – De Niro is miscast. He’s a little old for the role at 80 years-old, and I can’t help but imagine instead the rather sprightly, younger Hale (historically in his late-40s) with his astonishing energy needed to boundlessly inflict so much pain. A more historically accurate Hale would have been scarier. Here an aged frailness robs the film of a more intimately devious persona. Historically Hale lived decades beyond these murders, whilst in the film, it would be hard to see him living more than a few incarcerated years.
Alongside him, DiCaprio remains deeply entertaining to watch. He’s never an actor that ‘disappears’ into a role the way De Niro can, but he’s so fun to spend time with. Weirdly I can always see him ‘acting’ but the technique and commitment he brings is always so fierce I can’t stop loving his performances. Early in development, the character of FBI Agent Tom White (Jesse Plemons) was written for DiCaprio, and upon reading the book you can see why – Tom White represents the best of the white people, a man, maybe the only man, with such rock-solid integrity, he might be able to bring justice to an unjust saga of mundanely committed murder. But DiCaprio pushed hard to play Ernest Burkhart instead, the deeply unlikeable and complicit husband who is both in love and capable of killing Molly Burkhart. For DiCaprio the attraction is obvious – instead of being Hoover’s perfect G-Man, he gets dive into a deeply insecure and manipulated man, who can laugh as his soul dies inside. He spends hours of screen-time with his face in a permanent grimace wrapped tightly around his gravestone-colored teeth. And whilst the role is clearly pushing him in directions new, it’s also clear that by taking the role of Ernest, the second act of the movie falters.
By casting De Niro and DiCaprio as Hale and Burkhard, Scorsese has painted himself into a corner – he has to keep them as the leading men throughout. And frankly their characters don’t deserve it. As mentioned, in Gran’s book, Tom White becomes a major figure in the latter half. His personal history is fascinating, but most of all the story of how he manages to collate a group of disparate agents to infiltrate the powerful and impervious Hale is exciting, thrilling and most of all - cathartic. Not dissimilar to Elliot Ness’ team hunting down Al Capone via smart detective work. But in Scorsese’s procedural, White is reduced to a supporting player, and his FBI operation is compressed into a few key scenes. Even with this limitation, Jesse Plemons is formidable as the stoic White, a man who interrogates calmly, leaving space between the questions for the criminals to implicate themselves.
But the lack of focus on White’s cathartic manhunt and the continued focus on the pathetic and declining resolution of Ernest Burkhard is to the film’s detriment. Ernest’s contradictions and weaselly demeanor can’t sustain a film over 3 hours. 2 hours – absolutely, but the extensive running time causes to proceedings to wear thin. An act with White as the main protagonist is needed and would have doubled the ambition of the picture – to have a movie switch focus midway through would be a daring and challenging shift.
I’m hesitant to admit the film it too long (length can raise immersion in rare cases), but as it is currently structured, it outlasts its welcome. The inherent historical substance can endure this running time, but one can’t help but speculate that DiCaprio’s pursuit of one character has come at the expense of another.
Lily Gladstone is seminal as Mollie Burkhard. Both street-smart and intimate, she emits such a light sensitivity, it’s a shame she is rendered bedridden for most of the runtime. But then again, if you’re going to adapt this history, the cruelty of lost time is the point.
