The biggest – certainly the longest - movie of the year comes from the man still considered to be America’s greatest living director, Martin Scorsese. It’s called Killers of the Flower Moon.
Scorsese comes from the great tradition of classic movies and classic movie-makers.
He was never a Hollywood director as such – he described himself as an “in spite of Hollywood director” – but he was steeped in the films of David Lean, Federico Fellini, Kubrick and Kurosawa. And the great westerns.
Photo: Paramount Pictures
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Which is why it’s only right that this most urban of American film-makers should finally turn to making his own Western.
When Scorsese was asked why make something as risky as Killers of the Flower Moon, he said “At my age why wouldn’t I take a risk?”
And the risk entailed reshaping what could have been a straightforward whodunit. As Marty says, it’s more a “who didn’t do it.”
Killers of the Flower Moon opens on Ernest Burkhart – Leonardo DiCaprio – returning home from World War I. Home being Oklahoma where his uncle William Hale – Robert de Niro – has a job offer for him.
Hale is already a successful rancher – the self-styled “King of Oklahoma” – when the territory suddenly strikes it rich.
And the luckiest people in the state are the owners of the land – the Osage tribe. Suddenly oil wells are springing up all over the territory, all owned by the Osage.
Oil, like gold, is a signal for chancers and opportunists from all over the country to try their luck - including Ernest, of course.
With no particular skills he takes a job as a driver for hire, and one of the people he drives is a wealthy Osage woman called Mollie.
As his uncle says, that’s a short cut to wealth – marry an Osage heiress. All over the territory, white men are marrying Osage women, because that way they get their hands on all that money in the fullness of time.
But for some – in fact for more than some – “the fullness of time” is a long time to wait for an impatient man.
Osage people start dying for various reasons – accidents, suicides, illnesses – and no-one seems to be investigating these killings.
They’re tragedies, shrugs Hale, but that’s what happens when people find themselves with more money than they can handle.
And while it’s clear the shiftless Ernest is probably tied up in some robberies that are happening at the same time – he’s too lazy to work for a living – he doesn’t seem the type to go in for murder. Apart from anything, he’s fallen in love with Mollie.
Unlikely as it seems, he’s not only married her, he seems to sincerely love her, and she him. Mollie - played by a wonderful actress called Lily Gladstone - is the sad, beating heart of Killers of the Flower Moon.
Her accomplishment – and to be fair, the accomplishment of Scorsese and DiCaprio - is that she makes us believe her love for Ernest.
The film is a daunting three and a half hours long, but there isn’t a dead moment in it.
The camera work of Rodrigo Prieto, the editing - the brilliant Thelma Schoonmaker - and the music of the late Robbie Robertson are all Oscar-worthy.
It’s also the best I’ve seen DiCaprio for years – a man torn between the love of a wife too good for him and an uncle who might be the most evil character ever played by de Niro.
The worst villains are the ones apparently cloaked in virtue. William Hale speaks fluent Osage, he’s a regular visitor to tribal meetings, assuring them there’s no need to call in outside help.
But everyone knows who’s behind the many killings. And eventually someone has the courage to do something.
The original book Killers of the Flower Moon was told from the point of view of the newly-created FBI.
But Scorsese and producer DiCaprio realised that the real story lay in the relationship of Ernest and Mollie, his weakness and her strength.
It’s a true story, and unlike so many crime stories of the time, the truth does come out and some justice is served, if not enough of it.
But the joy of Killers of the Flower Moon is the confidence, skill and sheer artistry with which it’s made.
And I loved the unexpected ending – a final scene that dramatises the usual closing captions explaining what happens to the main characters.
It’s a daring close to a brilliant movie, Scorsese’s best in years - a unique blend of scale, passion, anger, heart and soul.