Review: "Killers of the Flower Moon" is a Monument of Sorrow
Killers of the Flower Moon starts in death, but not of flesh or person. The Frontier is no more, the West has been won, and the Track of Tears travailed when the Osage tribe gathers to mourn a way of life. Their traditions, their beliefs, their language are moving into the twilight, so they bury a sacred pipe and give themselves a symbol to weep over and express unsurmountable grief. As if listening to the lament, the earth responds. Black oil bursts from the ground, a geyser of wealth for the People from the Middle Waters brought to this Oklahoma barrenness after settlers pushed them asunder and away from the Great Plains. A pittance place once thought worthless reveals itself a treasure, and, overnight, the Osage Nation becomes the richest per capita population in the world.
So starts Martin Scorsese's latest opus, a title that, even within the context of his hallowed filmography, feels like a monumental achievement…