Directed by:
Martin ScorseseCinematography:
Rodrigo PrietoComposer:
Robbie RobertsonCast:
Leonardo DiCaprio, Robert De Niro, Lily Gladstone, Jesse Plemons, Tantoo Cardinal, John Lithgow, Brendan Fraser, Louis Cancelmi, Tatanka Means (more)VOD (3)
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At the turn of the 20th century, oil brought a fortune to the Osage Nation, who became some of the richest people in the world overnight. The wealth of these Native Americans immediately attracted white interlopers, who manipulated, extorted, and stole as much Osage money as they could before resorting to murder. (Paramount Pictures)
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Reviews (13)
During those 206 minutes, I kept wondering who Martin Scorsese makes such long films for in today's fast-paced world. The current generation might be intimidated by the length, and if DiCaprio and De Niro ever lose their star power, it seems he's making these for us — the die-hard film fans of today. And it shows. The film feels like it's crafted by a true cinephile, for cinephiles who savor every meticulous detail. It's true that the first hour and a half felt rather slow, and the plot is quite straightforward, making it hard to get into initially. But then it clicked, and I started to enjoy every expression De Niro and DiCaprio delivered. DiCaprio perfected his dialogue delivery, and both actors brought their characters to life so compellingly in the second half that I was completely engrossed. Despite one being a psychotic maniac and the other a simpleton, neither being particularly likeable, their performances were captivating. The epilogue is the cherry on top of a film that, while undeniably long, proves to be exceptionally good.
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At first glance, the same symptoms The Irishman had. In his latest films, Scorsese is no longer able to escalate, or at least keep the pace of the story and thus the viewer engaged. Add to that the monstrous running time and we have a problem. Although Killers of the Flower Moon has unquestionable narrative value, an artistic signature and dramatic ambition, those 200 minutes were for the most part plodding, despite the fact that DiCaprio and De Niro literally give an acting tour-de-force.
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The American interpretation of the banality of evil, where “banality” is synonymous with the everyday and the ordinary, but it is not readily apparent. Scorsese needs these three and a half hours so that he can depict, with maximum disturbing effect, the paradoxes and absurdities in the actions of people who, with the support of institutionalised racism and under the banner of their own truths and idealised values, were able to live side by side with those whom they killed. Two aspects stand in opposition to each other. On one side, there is the mythology of a nation that is being corroded by adapting to an imported lifestyle, or rather to a foreign mythos of prosperity. The tragedy of the Osage consists in the fact that they tried to adapt to a foreign mythos, but from the perspective of the white outsiders, that mythos was (and still remains) meant only for themselves and not for anyone else. On the other side, we have a stubborn self-centredness underpinned by an imagined right to prosperity in a land of unlimited opportunities, which in practice means that it can be seized by any means at the expense of others. The narrative consistently makes us aware that evil does not consist in some sort of moral gymnastics that the individual uses to justify his or her opposition to good. On the contrary, the essence of evil consists in absolute rational ignorance with respect to anything foreign, including morality. Essential support for this is provided by the instilled roles, models and ideals that one has to fulfil, because the effort to fulfil them helps one not to see anything else. Fortunately, however, there is a third side, represented not by the local authorities, but by those of the state, which in Scorsese's typically idealistic vision are completely immune to the corruption and temptations of the world around them, because they are built specifically for the purpose of fighting evil. Thanks not only to the presence of DiCaprio, Killers of the Flower Moon is a reprise of The Wolf of Wall Street, in which Scorsese portrayed the perversity of egocentrism and opportunism so spectacularly that his film became a materialisation of the dreams of numerous assholes and a representation of what they should aspire to. This time, in the acting itself (from DiCaprio's clumsiness to DeNiro’s adaptation of Donald Trump’s facial expressions) and in the purposefully slow pacing, he deliberately takes care to ensure that his view of America’s values cannot in any way be misappropriated in the furtherance of those values, though the effort is ultimately futile, because nothing external will break the convinced racists and mammonists.
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Crushing. It’s good to see in the context of today's times when it appears that no one plays a fair game and those who do are suffering the most. It's not at all enjoyable to watch, in fact it can only be endured because of Scorsese’s masterful work with the actors and his obvious desire to tell an important story. De Niro and DiCaprio are both excellent, and Lily Gladstone is Oscar-worthy. Too bad the people who should see it won't be the ones who will, because they won't be comfortable with the company they'll spend those three and a half hours in, since the main characters are a lazy invalid slacker with a weak will, a naive (though mostly sick) rich wife, and an egomaniac convinced of the righteousness of his actions. The common denominator is, of course, money. Yeah, I like money, almost as much as I like my wife.
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In the plane of view towards the community condemned to destruction, dense, yearning, typically biting and sometimes captivating from the director. In the same striking plane of a family saga from old bad times but weaker in all respects. The characteristic of the central trio is almost clearly defined from the beginning, there is little hidden between the lines, and when the last detail stops being concealed in front of the viewer, it is done. From that moment on, it no longer makes sense to trust specific relationships and therefore the motivation for crucial actions in the final act. So I don't understand even more why this movie lasts for two and a half hours, when all the motives and points could fit into two and I wouldn't lose any meanings or depths. Which brings me to how much Scorsese loves extravagance and formal indulgence. Where there should be a herd, there are several hundred cows, where there should be a crowd scene, there are people from horizon to horizon and so on (especially in the beginning) over and over again. Even DiCaprio is overused this time and the possibilities of his broken expression, although otherwise perfectly functional, are overloaded because the viewer is almost stuffed in front of their eyes with all emotional extremes. I understand the intoxication with the possibilities of cinematography, but unlike the much smarter Irishman, similarly thoughtful and cautiously venomous American memories, I won't spin this disc for the second time.
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