The thud of Robbie Robertson’s score underpins the striking landscapes captured by Rodrigo Prieto, whose cinematography presents us with some of the most unforgettable images of the past few years – and helming this entire process is Martin Scorsese, who once again proves that he is arguably the greatest living director currently working in the English language, and someone who has more than proven himself as an essential voice. It almost seems wildly inappropriate to even have the suggestion of a preamble to his work, since he has been perhaps the embodiment of cinematic artistry for over half a century – and yet, we always find ourselves thrilled when he announces a new project, and even more enthusiastic when he follows through and sets these ambitious concepts into motion. Killers of the Flower Moon has been a passion project for the director for a few years, and it has certainly been quite a journey David Grann’s novel has taken to the screen, with Scorsese working critically with the text to find the best approach to bringing these ideas to life while still honouring the facts. Much like the source material, the film tells the story of the cold-blooded murders that took place in Oklahoma during the 1920s, where the Osage people were targeted as a result of their prosperity, which was viewed as easily attainable by a small group of white businessmen who believed, as a result of their colonial mindset, that what belongs to marginalized groups is ultimately the property of whoever is willing to take a few calculated risks. By this point, it should not be surprising that Scorsese has once again redefined what cinema can convey, and while it is not nearly as personal or introspective as The Irishman or Silence, two films constructed on a similarly epic scale in recent years, his passion for the subject is never in denial throughout Killers of the Flower Moon, which is a beautiful and poignant drama that has some jagged edges, intentionally placed throughout this film to remind us of the importance of not only looking to the past but also acknowledging the profound brutalities levelled against countless communities in history, the primary thesis statement of this astonishing film.

While his detractors may tend to reduce his cinematic contributions to a few genres or conventions, Scorsese has proven himself to be a truly versatile director, and while he may have a few concepts that he usually implements more often in his films than others, he has shown an immense diversity in the kinds of stories he tells. The specific aspect that drew him to adapt Killers of the Flower Moon is not entirely clear, but like many of his more ambitious works, he was likely drawn to the material based on his fascination with not only the period but also the underlying social and cultural aspects, which have often informed his historical dramas. He has a gift for recreating the past, and it is almost certain that what he is doing is taking Grann’s novel and using it as a foundation for a film that explores several complex themes. The source material is quite broad, and there wasn’t any logical way for Scorsese to adapt it directly, especially since it is a non-fiction work, and didn’t have a traditional narrative. Working with co-writer Eric Roth, with whom he has collaborated on several projects, Scorsese chooses a few key themes and expands on them, turning these ideas into the basis for the film. Initially, it started as an account of how J. Edgar Hoover laid the groundwork for the Bureau of Investigation, which was soon to become known as the FBI, but while this would have been fascinating on its terms, it’s undeniable that shifting the focus away from these outsiders, and instead playing emphasis on the community impacted by these events the most made the film a much more engaging experience, and one that gave Scorsese the chance to develop on several ideas, rather than depending on elements that have previously been foregrounded in his films. His keen observations intertwine with his incredible aptitude when it comes to making films of an immense scope without resorting to excess, and they coalesce in this intimidating but strikingly beautiful historical drama that is most intriguing when we realize there is much more to it than initially meets the eye.

One of the most fascinating elements of Scorsese’s work is that despite being beyond acclaimed and arguably the most famous filmmaker of his generation, every time he steps behind the camera, it feels like a reintroduction to his work. This has been a feature throughout his career, but it seems more potent in his later works, where we learn something new about the director with every subsequent work, each one providing insights on not only the subjects that fascinate him but also elements of his own philosophical and psychological inventory, which are clear in so many of his works. On the surface, Killers of the Flower Moon does not seem to be a particularly personal work – technically, Scorsese is entirely removed from having any logical connection to this story, by his heritage and the era in which these events took place. Yet, we still find that it is another reflective work, a film that meditates on several profound themes, each one carefully woven into the fabric of the story with precision and a kind of genuine complexity that has become increasingly rare in films of this scope. Morality is a theme that has often found its way into his work, and there are countless moments in this film in which he is given the chance to look at the theme, which he does with a critical gaze, never once implying that the central characters in this film are by any means good people, but rather ordinary individuals who found themselves being overtaken by greed. Killers of the Flower Moon has many fascinating interpretations, but it seems that the most universal theme is that this is a film about the corruption of the human spirit, and how greed can have malicious consequences that can cause the decline of an entire culture, represented in this striking tale of how the lack of morality from a small group of individuals led to one of the darkest chapters in American history, and which is inexplicably still somewhat obscure, a fact that is frequently mentioned throughout the film, almost as if Scorsese is insistent on reminding us about the various harrowing details that inspired this film, and hopefully inciting concurrent conversations on many of the themes brought up throughout the story.

Throughout Killers of the Flower Moon, we find Scorsese negotiating the concept of morality about historical enterprise – this is a film that starts as an account of a man returning home from war and trying to establish a life for himself, only to find that he is given a choice: he can either earn an honest living through hard work and collaboration with the local community, or he could succumb to the temptation to utilize what he believes is his entitled responsibility to assert his dominance and take over the land and its resources by any means necessary. Choosing to look at the subject through the perspective of the perpetrators is an interesting choice, and not many filmmakers could easily create a film where the villains are central to the story. However, as with many of his films, Scorsese is not interested in sympathy for these people but rather uses them as tools to explore deeper themes. This film is filled with complex characters, and the active avoidance of conventional archetypes is quite noticeable, even at its broadest moments. There are very few truly sympathetic characters throughout this film – the perpetrators are portrayed as volatile, foolish thugs who allow greed to overtake all reason, while even the investigators and lawyers on both sides of the courtroom are seen as opportunistic and manipulative in some way. Indeed, the only truly sympathetic characters are those within the Osage community, and we find that the most profoundly moving moments are those in which the cultural beliefs of this population are shown in direct contrast to the immoral, unethical nature of the people who claim to be their colleagues but are in reality nothing more than bloodthirsty predators. It’s a complex and nuanced deconstruction of not only historical events, but cultural practices and the interactions between these populations, and it fits in perfectly with the ongoing conversation around the dark spectre of imperialism, since despite not being quite the same in theory, what we witnessed through the Osage murders was very close to the colonial project that ended the lives of countless people at the hands of the greedy elite who believed in their God-given right to have what was never theirs to own in the first place.

While it is a decidedly unsympathetic film in terms of how it views these people and their actions, Killers of the Flower Moon is still interested in creating interesting characters, especially since nearly everyone involved in the narrative is either entirely obscure or very little information exists about them, outside of what is contained in Grann’s book and the historical resources that guided in his writing process. Scorsese enlists two of his most esteemed collaborators to play the central characters of Ernest Burkhart, the war hero who becomes corrupted by greed, and William King Hale, the uncle who first plants the seed of psychopathy in his impressionable, shell-shocked mind. Leonardo DiCaprio and Robert De Niro take on the roles respectively, and they are both exceptional, turning in performances that are layered with meaning, being profoundly complex while actively avoiding giving us even the slightest excuse to feel sympathy for these people and what they represent. De Niro in particular is chilling – he’s an incredible actor regardless of the director, but there is something that emerges when he works with Scorsese that seems exclusive to their partnership, with De Niro seemingly being more willing to play even more sinister characters than usual when under the direction of his close friend. However, while both actors give very strong performances, it is Lily Gladstone who is the heart of the film – as perhaps the only truly good character in the film, she plays the resilient and strong-willed Osage woman who starts to realize the moral corruption that is beginning to cause her community to rot from within, she is astonishing, every moment she is on screen being amongst the most effective in this entire film. It could certainly not have been an easy task to act across from two titans like De Niro and DiCaprio and still manage to be the most memorable aspect of the film, but considering the way the film is structured and the sheer might of her performance, it is undeniable that this is a profoundly moving showcase for Gladstone’s immense talents. Supporting roles from Tantoo Cardinal, Brendan Fraser, John Lithgow and a range of other incredible actors in smaller roles (many of which are drawn from the Osage community themselves) enrich the film and add layers of complexity to an already engaging and thrilling story that makes sure to properly define every character.

Killers of the Flower Moon is ultimately a film with a lot more meaning than we initially expected, particularly if we are anticipating a story that simply presents an objective account of the events that took place during this dark chapter in American history. While there is certainly an immense degree of historical accuracy, we find that the aspects of the film that draw us in with the most fervour are actually those relating to the slightly more abstract concepts. What seems to be propelling this film is the concept of history, particularly the impenetrable weight of the past. What transpired in the Osage community in the 1920s was not simply an act of violence and racism, but an event that left scars that are still felt to this day, deciding to tell this story extremely daunting. There has been some question as to whether or not Scorsese was the right person to tell this story, and while I am in no position to offer any kind of definitive opinion on the matter (as the only authorities on the subject are the Osage themselves, as we have seen from their insightful contributions in discussing the film and what it represents), but it is clear that this is a film made with respect and genuine compassion. Scorsese has never been one to veer towards sentimentality, and in many ways, his almost cutthroat approach to presenting the facts in vibrant detail makes more of an impact. He may not be the ultimate authority on the history of the Osage people, but Killers of the Flower Moon is similarly not the definitive text on these people or what they endured at the hands of these malicious imperialists, and considering the level of detail that went into the cultural aspects, as well as the active participation of elders and experts from within the Osage community, it is clear that every effort was made to make this film as authentic and respectful as possible. At this point in his career, Scorsese has very little use for showboating, and it is clear that every moment of this film was a labour of love for a director who had a fascination with this material, and the good sense to do whatever it took to bring it to the screen in an authentic and meaningful a way as possible, which is precisely why this is such a beautifully engaging work.

Scorsese has a knack for exploring the past, and as perhaps his largest period production to date, he had quite an enormous challenge ahead of him in terms of constructing this film. Added to this is the fact that he needed to portray the culture with as much genuine detail as possible, right down to the smallest intricacies. Recreating the past is an endeavour that has been undertaken by countless filmmakers, and Scorsese has contributed his fair share of period pieces throughout his career. Yet, every one of them feels more expansive and detailed than the one that preceded it, and a lot of this comes from the fact that the director surrounds himself with only the most gifted artists. He has consistently shown his adherence to the idea of collaboration being the key to his success, and working with only the best artists in their respective fields will undoubtedly result in something more meaningful and thoroughly authentic. As mentioned previously, Killers of the Flower Moon features cinematography by the brilliant Rodrigo Prieto, who works closely with Scorsese to create this image of the past, capturing these expansive landscapes that transport us to the past. Credit must also be given to masters of their respective industries, Jack Fisk and the duo of Jacqueline West and Julie O’Keefe, who head the art direction and costume design departments respectively. Their contributions were not only valuable, but essential – without their incredible work, this film would not carry such an immensely powerful sense of authenticity, and both departments actively employed and consulted with members of the Osage community to ensure that every choice, right down to the smallest detail, was genuine and reflected their rich, beautiful history. Scorsese is a director who prioritizes the concept of collaboration and actively constructs his films around the exceptional work of his cohorts, who help bring Killers of the Flower Moon to life, ensuring that every frame of this film is filled with a genuine sense of historical accuracy and a sincere respect for the culture being conveyed, an important aspect of this astonishing film.

After seven decades in the industry, which has expanded from the outset of the New Hollywood movement in the late 1960s to the present era, one would imagine that a director like Scorsese would have either run out of artistic steam, or retreated into a well-deserved retirement, since the majority of directors would be content to make just one masterpiece during their career, while Scorsese has nearly a dozen, and yet seems to be showing very little interest in slowing down, contrary to what his reflections on ageing and mortality in recent years may suggest. Killers of the Flower Moon immediately joins the canon of truly great films that he has made throughout his career. At this point in his career, Scorsese knows that he doesn’t have much time – he’s not delusional enough to believe that he is unstoppable, and Killers of the Flower Moon is a film that allows him to meditate on ideas that are very close to him on a philosophical level, while still being an engaging and compelling film. Despite its length of 206 minutes, the film moves at a rapid pace, and there is not a wasted moment to be found anywhere in this film. We unfortunately are living in a time when the cinematic epic is slowly becoming extinct, which is why Scorsese’s insistence on allowing this story to flourish at its own pace, as well as the level of detail necessary to bring these ideas to life, is essential to the identity of the film. We don’t often find contemporary works that manage to exist on such a grand spectacle in terms of their artistry, but also feel profoundly intimate, spending time with its characters and unpacking their psychological state, which is particularly important since the story constantly draws on these aspects as it explores the theme of morality and psychological destruction. Killers of the Flower Moon is an immense achievement – sinister and haunting, but also profoundly moving and extremely effective, capturing the past in vivid detail and presenting it through a harrowing story of the darkest recesses of the human condition. Scorsese once again proves his undeniable mastery of the medium, and by working closely with several supremely gifted artists, he creates a striking and effective film that tells an important story as it immerses us in the past, showing us a chapter in history and giving a voice to the people who have been silenced for over a century.