The chronicling of the Osage Nation’s early 20th-century tragedy proves powerful and prescient.

Having earned just about every accolade there is and long cemented his position as one of the all-time great filmmakers, Martin Scorsese has nothing left to prove. Yet, on the cusp of 81–an age when most directors are either retiring to the Lifetime Achievement Award circuit or making films that are largely variations of their past glories–he is still out there challenging himself and audiences with bold and audacious projects.

Consider his output since he won his long-overdue Best Director Oscar for The Departed. A mind-bending thriller (Shutter Island). A combination of children’s fantasy/celebration of the early days of cinema (Hugo). A brash epic about the seductive nature of greed (The Wolf of Wall Street). A thoughtful and restrained religious drama (Silence). A mournful crime drama that played like his final summation of the genre (The Irishman). On the non-fiction side, he helmed a slew of documentaries covering everything from The Rolling Stones and Bob Dylan to Fran Lebowitz and the New York Times Review of Books. 

That is one hell of a lineup. Any one of those titles would be an unrivaled peak in the careers of most filmmakers. The streak continues with Killers of the Flower Moon, a stunning work that is both a Scorsese film through and through and unlike anything he has ever done before. Made by a filmmaker bringing both the expertise of a veteran and the energy and enthusiasm of an eager newcomer, this sprawling American epic works as a chronicle of a dark moment in the country’s history. It tells a gripping and ultimately heartbreaking Hitchcockian-style thriller that sees a wife awaken to the unthinkable possibility that her husband is trying to murder them. Meanwhile, throughout, the feature boasts unmistakable parallels with current events. 

The story, initially recounted in the 2017 best-selling David Grann nonfiction book of the same name, chronicles a particularly horrifying plot. In the 1920s, unscrupulous white people targeted members of the Oklahoma Osage tribe. The scam’s target was the millions that flowed into the Osage community when the seemingly useless land the government forced them onto proved to have vast oil reserves. While some seemed content to bilk the Osage people in the usual ways—overcharging them for goods and services or declaring them incompetent to “supervise” their holdings—others proved to be more impatient. Before long, the bodies begin to stack up, with the local authorities not particularly inclined to do much about it.

The feature focuses on the greed-fueled machinations of William King Hale (Robert De Niro). A rich rancher, he positions himself as a true friend to the Osage while subtly working to claim their wealth. When his nephew, Ernest Burkhart (Leonardo DiCaprio), arrives to live with him, an audaciously devious plot takes shape. William suggests Ernest should woo and marry Osage woman Mollie (Lily Gladstone). She, along with her sisters and mother, has considerable wealth from the oil. While not very bright, Ernest has a certain surface charm to which Mollie cannot help but succumb. Soon, they wed.

Around this time, members of Mollie’s family begin dying off rapidly. There’s no consistent cause, but all of them are strange and unexpected. They include a vaguely defined “wasting disease” to a house explosion. With each death, the deceased’s oil shares move to the other family members. Eventually, Mollie is the sole survivor and, thus, holder of all the claims. Should she meet similarly tragic ends, her holdings would pass on to her husband and their children. Mollie, who has diabetes, begins taking insulin, a brand-new medication at the time. Suddenly, she falls victim to a mysterious illness that makes her increasingly incapacitated. The disorder forces her to finally consider the husband she loves deeply could be a cold-hearted murderer.

[Killers of the Flower Moon] is as fresh, vital, and in tune with the concerns of today as anything else out there.

When Grann wrote his chronicle of the Osage murders, he focused his narrative primarily on the murder investigation by members of the then-newly emergent F.B.I. If Killers of the Flower Moon had stuck to that template, it likely would have been engrossing. Somewhere in the process, though, a decision was made to shift the focus away from the F.B.I.—who, led by former Texas Ranger Tom White (Jesse Plemons), do not even arrive on the scene until deep into the movie. Instead, the focus fell on the Osage themselves. Mollie’s story became a gateway to examine what happened to her people in shocking numbers. This proves to have been a wise decision for any number of reasons. 

Instead of allowing the story to turn into another white savior narrative, the Osage tribe takes center stage. This approach also removes the story from the familiar beats of a police procedural. As a result, it presents a part of history unfamiliar to many viewers in human terms. It also allows Scorsese and co-writer Eric Roth to underscore that while the sheer audacity of King’s plot to usurp Mollie’s wealth was startling, the idea of people going to extreme lengths to ensure non-white Americans do not become prosperous and self-sufficient was not an anomaly. For instance, they explicitly draw a line connecting the Osage crimes with the equally horrific Tulsa massacre of 1921.

This shift in focus also highlights Killer of the Flower Moon’s secret weapon, Gladstone’s performance. De Niro and DiCaprio are both excellent. De Niro’s work as the outwardly effusive and inwardly rancid King reminds us that, recent output aside, he’s still one of our greatest actors. Di Caprio, as the easily corruptible Ernest, delivers the best and darkest performance of his career. However, the lesser-known Gladstone (who has turned in fine performances in such films as Certain Women and the recent The Unknown Country) more than holds her own. She takes center stage with a powerful and ultimately mesmerizing performance that builds until a quietly shattering climactic scene in which she can no longer ignore her long simmer suspicions about her husband. In a year that has already seen several knockout performances by extraordinarily talented women, this is one of the best.

Of course, one sticking point for many is the film’s just under 3 1/2 hour running time. However, the feature’s skill and precision make it feel shorter than the running time would suggest. I can think of several other objectively shorter films that seem longer in comparison. Thanks to the efforts of editor Thelma Schoonmaker, cinematographer Rodrigo Prietro, production designer Jack Fisk, and others, Killers of the Flower Moon is an uncommonly engrossing and visually stunning work. It somehow manages the considerable trick of telling its story rapidly without rushing and never letting viewers get bogged down in a mass of information. Another frequent Scorsese collaborator, the late Robbie Robertson, should also pay a special note. He contributes a wonderful and occasionally trippy score that perfectly matches the material. 

Quentin Tarantino has stated that his upcoming film will be his last. He wishes to go out on top, dodging the fate of many previous filmmakers who stuck around too long and concluded their careers with substandard work. Killers of the Flower Moon acts as a rebuttal to that being an inevitability. It is as fresh, vital, and in tune with the concerns of today as anything else out there and made by a director who is still in total command of their considerable artistic powers. The result is one of the very best movies of the year. And yet another reminder—not that one is necessary—that Scorsese is a consummate artistic talent of our time.

Killers of the Flower Moon opens in theatres October 20.

Killers of the Flower Moon Trailer: