Greed and bigotry fuse with fatal consequences in this epic adaptation of David Grann’s 2017 non-fiction book from cinematic maestro Martin Scorsese and co-screenwriter Eric Roth. A simmering, 1920s-set crime thriller imbued with a Wild West flavour and quiet fury, over three-and-a-half (largely justified) hours, it tells the terrible tale of the Osage Indian murders. 

Leonardo DiCaprio is our weak and weasily protagonist, Ernest Burkhart, a former army cook who returns from war and is warmly welcomed by his seemingly benevolent uncle, William Hale (Robert De Niro), a pivotal and, it transpires, dangerously ambitious figure in the burgeoning town of Fairfax, Oklahoma.

At the suggestion of his uncle, Ernest enters into a relationship with Mollie Kyle (Lily Gladstone), a member of the Osage Nation who, along with her fellow tribespeople, owns the rights to oil discovered on their land. The film exposes the murderous plot to rob them of those rights, eventually uncovered by Bureau Of Investigation agent Tom White (played here by a typically excellent Jesse Plemons).

A few filmic flourishes aside, Killers Of The Flower Moon is a restrained and focused look at the mercilessness and sense of superiority of a group of white men and their demented, ruinous pursuit of money, persuasively described by Mollie as a sickness. Scorsese takes time to fill in the cultural context, as Ernest learns about the Osage tribe’s history and we witness various rituals. 

The hatred these white folk feel for Osage people is palpable, and Scorsese’s film conveys great sadness for what transpired, part of a toxic history that still colours America’s political and social landscape to this day. The casting of Scorsese stalwart De Niro (appearing in his tenth film for the director) in the chief antagonist role works unsurprisingly well, with the menace we know the actor is capable of lurking behind his more avuncular modern-day screen persona.

There are some quibbles. If the meat of the film is impossible to tear your eyes from, the slightly gimmicky postscript leaves things on a bit of a strange note. And there’s some wisdom in making us feel the discomfort of being aligned with a deeply compromised, sometimes despicable central character; but whether or not it reflects the reality of those times, side-lining and somewhat silencing Mollie proves frustrating. 

It’s yet another plum role for DiCaprio, who cycles through avarice, cowardice and regret, though in their scenes together, Gladstone matches him with her gentle gravitas and understated agony. Ultimately, it’s an impressive, characteristically sophisticated achievement from Scorsese. Told with due care and craft, Killers Of The Flower Moon is an engrossing, satisfyingly enraging spin on a story that deserves to be better known.

Killers Of The Flower Moon screens at Southbank Centre, Sunday 8 October, and BFI Southbank, Tuesday 10 October as part of the BFI London Film Festival; in cinemas from Friday 20 October.