Robb’s review published on Letterboxd:
It’s just like Tulsa.
White Americans live in a fantasy where the Wild West was full of courageous cowboys and mountain men, who through their charm, wit, overwhelming intelligence, and overwhelming power, this country was conquered. For the good of the native, for their own benefit. It’s the same argument made in relation to African Americans, if they weren’t slaves to begin with, they’d still be in Africa. So all white transgressions are absolved, tied up neatly, called manifest destiny, natural selections, or heavenly mandate. I am white myself, and these conversations, the characters in the film, are commonplace to me and my childhood. This film is a perfect indictment of that indoctrination, a complete rebuttal of the entire way of life this nation has produced, and continues to enforce worldwide.
Scorsese cares little for these monoliths of white supremacy and capitalism, neither as a source of pride or cultural heritage. With Killers of the Flower Moon he takes a subject and a genre that from its very inception has been uncharitable at best or downright slander and propaganda at worst to its due time under scrutiny. The United States has never reckoned with its mass genocide of its native people, and the slow campaign to destroy their culture and sense of self over the last century. These stories are buried, ignored, and swept under the rug. Another powerful aspect to this film, and a running through line in many of Scorsese’s finest films, is the corrupting power of capitalism, the evil that corrupts and kills with selfish glory.
Leo plays a sniveling, cowardly, fool that is one of the lowest characters I have ever seen an actor of his prestige portray. De Niro plays a wolf in human skin, his performance is unnerving, frightening, and very real. The same wolves are your landlords, your bank managers, your corporate lawyers and hacks. Best De Niro in a very, very long time and will hold forever as among his very, very best.
The beating, bleeding heart of the film is Lily Gladstone, who turned in certainly the performance of the year. I can’t begin to describe what she does to Killers of the Flower Moon, my words can’t give her justice. One of the most heartbreaking performances I’ve ever seen, and the way her relationship is developed on screen is so cold, doomed, and ready to implode at any moment, the entire film takes on Shakespearean levels of tragedy.
The final salvo, where the film takes a daring and dramatic turn that I will not spoil, was perfect. So many films, tv shows, or general content churn out tragic realities and outcomes at such a commercial level and pace, Killers of the Flower Moon is a direct contradiction of this shock and awe formula. Anyone that sees this film knows exactly what’s going to happen, and why. We don’t spend time romanticizing murders, we spend most of this time in grief, confusion, or shame. We bear witness to these events, because they are worth knowing, and knowing well. Scorsese reckons with the basic facts of his craft, his place in these tragedies as a showmen, and urges us to think beyond the screen. To feel beyond these individual people, and this individual tribe.
