Killers of the Flower Moon

You know you’re watching a great movie within the first minute of “Killers of the Flower Moon.” The scene is perfect; the camera, the music, it all sets the tone for the film.

You see the oil bubbling up in the prairie early on, like some misplaced witchy cauldron. As the oil begins to gurgle and then to gush, it splatters a half-dozen Osage men who’ve started to dance ecstatically at the discovery, their bodies slicked with petroleum — a harbinger of the blood that, as Scorsese reminds you in this heartbreaking masterpiece, has long engulfed us all.

“Can you find the wolves in this picture?” The premise of the story is established quickly. White people are the wolves in this picture, who moved to Osage County after Oil was discovered. Many are entrenched in the murders of Osage people. Local doctors who first provided lethal substances that slowly killed Osage people and then covered up the murders with fictitious death certificates. The local town sheriff is paid to turn a blind eye to certain dealings. The thick but handsome Ernest Burkhart who loves women and money. But the biggest wolve is William King Hale, the slick cattle ranger portrayed by Robert DeNiro, who is friendly with everyone but manipulative and ruthless.

This is an overwhelming movie. It’s long. Its set design and camera are perfect. The performances by DiCaprio and especially Lily Gladstone are stellar. The unmediated display of cold-blooded and subtle violence leaves you distraught.

“Killers of the Flower Moon” is a magnificent picture. Even at the age of 80, Martin Scorsese outclasses pretty much any director active today. There aren’t many that make movies like him.