Killers of the Flower Moon

Director: Martin Scorsese
Starring: Leonardo DiCaprio, Robert De Niro, Lily Gladstone, Jesse Plemons, John Lithgow, Brendan Fraser, Tantoo Cardinal, Cara Jade Myers, Jason Isbell, William Belleau, Scott Shepherd, Tatanks Means, Sturgill Simpson, Charlie Musselwhite, Pat Healy, Jack White, Barry Corbin, Pete Yorn
Running Time: 206 min.
Rating: R

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

There's this chilling moment toward the end of Martin Scorsese's Killers of the Flower Moon when Robert De Niro's villainous character predicts that any outrage about the murders he ordered won't last. People move on and history fades, until disappearing, rarely given a second thought. Sadly, he ended up being right. Long removed from public consciousness, it took David Grann's 2017 non-fiction bestseller for the Osage Nation killings to be widely acknowledged for the pure savagery it was.

Now the basis for this three and a half hour epic, Scorsese and co-writer Eric Roth are put in the unenviable position of not only doing justice to real events, but molding it into a piece of art and entertainment that doesn't feel like a preachy history lecture. On that front, Scorsese again proves his worth, giving shape and meaning to a gigantic story too well crafted to be merely written off as a cinematic miniseries.   

During the annual "Flower Moon" ceremony, a discovery of oil deposits beneath the ground brings abundant wealth to Oklahoma's Native American Osage tribe, even as their revenues are legally overseen by white court-appointed guardians. But World War I veteran Ernest Burkhart's (Leonardo DiCaprio) return to the states in 1919 to live with his uncle, William "King" Hale (De Niro) soon makes a bad situation worse. A reserve deputy sheriff and local political honcho, Hale's been posing as a friendly benefactor to the Osage inheritors while orchestrating their murders for money. Now with Ernest in the fold, he has even more help.

When not committing armed robberies with his brother Byron (Scott Shepherd), Ernest works as a driver for Mollie Kyle (Lily Gladstone), an Osage whose family owns oil headrights. But after Ernest falls in love and marries her, Hale convinces him they need to target his new wife's relatives to gain control of the inheritance. With Mollie suffering from diabetes and caring for an elderly mother, Hale and his nephews sets their sights on eliminating her sisters first. As the reservation's body count rises, Hale uses his pull with local law enforcement to cover up the killings, until the arrival of F.B.I. agent Thomas Bruce White Sr. (Jesse Plemons) threatens to expose it all.

It's somewhat difficult to reconcile how Mollie marries Ernest to begin with since there's hardly a minute where he doesn't come across as a hopelessly dense creep. And DiCaprio, fitted with bad teeth and mealy mouthed drawl that makes him sound like Sling Blade's Karl Childers, plays this to a hilt, with him initially tagging behind her like a lost puppy. Despite Mollie having a good head on her shoulders and seemingly aware of his faults, Gladstone succeeds in making her believably vulnerable enough to fall for this. The character's sadness over the Osage's plight, her own declining health and continuous family tragedies could be counted as contributing factors she thinks marrying him may lessen.

The gullible Ernest doesn't start out gunning for Mollie's money until his uncle tells him to, knowing once this lost soul feels wanted and important, there's no looking back. And since the grandfatherly Hale's hands are in everything as he projects the aura of an upstanding community leader, covering up these murders becomes that much easier. Ernest expresses occasional doubt about the atrocities he carries out, but mostly because he's too dumb to fully comprehend them. He's also a major screw up who still somehow increases their chances of being caught despite Hale having local law enforcement and doctors in his pocket, declaring the gruesome murders as suicides and accidents. 

After much of Mollie's family is buried, it's easy to assume she must know who's responsible. When exactly that happens we're not sure, which is what makes Gladstone's performance such a delicate dance. Using little other than unreadable expressions and body language, she plays Mollie as outwardly guarded and composed while playing her cards close to the vest, realizing that could be the only remaining chance at survival. 

A lot of the smaller turns add up, such as Cara Jade Myers' role as Mollie's unpredictably promiscuous sister Anna and Jason Isbell's quietly intense Bill Smith, the brother-in-law who spooks Ernest with his suspicions. The most effective subplot involves melancholy alcoholic Osage Henry Roan (William Belleau), a friend of Hale's who finds himself in the crosshairs of hired assassin Alvin Reynolds (Charles Musselwhite). Singer/songwriter Pete Yorn also cameos as an explosives expert, but the artist whose presence looms largest is the late Robbie Robertson, with The Band co-founder's bluesy score proving subtly impactful, heightening the film's most powerful stretches and overall tone. Jack Fisk's production design also aids in that regard, somewhat reminiscent of his work in There Will Be Blood. 

All bets are off when the FBI close in, with Ernest and Hale scrambling to tie up loose ends while a bedridden Mollie is neutralized, hallucinating and wasting away despite being one of the few in the country to obtain insulin. Hardly an appendage, Mollie's story continues uninterrupted into the second half, where her character's physically incapacitated. Teetering between life and death, some of Gladstone's best scenes come as the full brunt of her husband's actions reign down. And while the kingpin role may not be a huge leap for De Niro, you'd have to really go back years to find a part he's been able to devour quite like this.

Jesse Plemons' agent White projects an aw shucks demeanor off the bat, but proves cunning enough to let the perpetrators implicate themselves and each other with their lies. Fittingly, Ernest can't manage to make the most obvious, face-saving choice without briefly getting suckered by Hale and Brendan Fraser's bombastic defense attorney W.S. Hamilton. And even when Ernest comes close to doing the right thing out of circumstantial necessity, it doesn't take long for him to ruin that also, failing to take responsibility for the worst he's done.   

While many will understandably find it taxing to spend the entirety of this picture with DiCaprio's easily manipulated sleazebag character, it could help explain why Scorsese strays from Grann's source material, foregoing a heroic FBI origin story to put increased focus on the victims. This adds some depth, transforming what could have been a law enforcement procedural into a gripping meditation on prejudice and corruption.   

Scorsese finds a completely fresh and inventive device to close on, letting us know what's become of these people in a stylistic approach that puts to shame your ordinary closing title cards that vomit historical data. The movie is more cut and dry than you'd expect, but it's what happened, and for any quibbles about various portrayals, all those continuous murders still hit hardest. No matter how much money the Osage had, they lacked power and a voice, at least until they finally convinced the right people to listen. 

Joker

Director: Todd Phillips
Starring: Joaquin Phoenix, Robert De Niro, Zazie Beetz, Frances Conroy, Brett Cullen, Shea Whigham, Bill Camp, Glenn Fleshler, Leigh Gill, Marc Maron, Douglas Hodge, Dante Pereira-Olson
Running Time: 122 min.
Rating: R

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)

There's been a lot of discussion lately as to what constitutes a "realistic" take on a comic book or superhero property, if such a decriptor even exists. While great entertainment, the idea that Tim Burton's 1989 Batman was once praised for its dark grittiness seems downright laughable now. Christopher Nolan may have changed game entirely with his Dark Knight Trilogy, stripping away many elements that defined the genre with something more closely resembling a crime drama, but it was really Heath Ledger's Oscar-winning reinterpretation of the Joker as a nihilistic terrorist that left an imprint. Nolan was onto to something big with that approach until Marvel came along, reminding audiences worldwide that they love "fun" superhero movies, as interchangeable and corporately indistinct as they've since become. Soon, a future where every major property would be Nolanized with a healthy dose of realism and nuance fell by the wayside. 

Now, with Joker, comedy director Todd Phillips does what Nolan and everyone before him was either too tentative or flat-out forbidden in going all the way with, delivering a dark psychological drama that doesn't only subvert the form, but flat-out demolishes it. The credits read "Based on DC characters" and, finally, for the first time, we can say, "very loosely." It actually shares more in common with dark psychological dramas like Taxi Driver, The King of Comedy and Requiem For a Dream, channeling the tone, look and content of those films more than any aforementioned Bat project. And Joaquin Phoenix's chilling, disturbing reimagining of this character is a full-fledged introduction, going where so few actors have in really playing the man behind the facepaint, infusing him with a complexity this long limiting genre has frowned upon. The material's depth affords him that chance, as he creates a painfully real depiction of mental illness that would be too difficult to watch if it wasn't so gripping. 

It's 1981 and party clown and sometimes stand-up comedian Arthur Fleck (Phoenix) is living in a dilapidated apartment with his ailing mother, Penny, (Frances Conroy) in Gotham City. With crime and unemployment at a high, the city is also in the midst of a garbage strike and overrun with rats. Even as wealthy businessman Thomas Wayne (Brett Cullen) vows to bring change with a mayoral bid, the rift between the haves and have nots of Gotham grows larger, with no signs of relief coming anytime soon. That's especially true for the mentally ill and socially awkward Arthur, who suffers from a clinical condition that causes inappropriate, uncontrollable laughing fits. Relying on social services for seven different medications, his luck worsens when, in full clown make-up and costume, he's jumped and beaten in an alley by a group of thugs while hawking electronics.

Implored by his co-workers to take measures insuring his safety on the streets, he discovers the most enjoyment watching "The Murray Franklin Show" with his mother. Both are enamored with its Carson-like host, Murray Franklin (Robert De Niro), whom Arthur dreams of someday meeting when his stand-up career takes off and he's asked to appear on the program. Things start looking up when he gets some club gigs and starts dating Sophie (Zazie Beetz), a cynical single mother who lives in the same building. But with his fragile mental state, Arthur's always one dangerous incident away from being pushed over the edge. And it's coming, no matter how often his mom tells him to "put on a happy face."

Despite taking place in "Gotham City," let's just call it what it is: late 70's, early 80's New York City. It not only looks and feels like it with the grafitti, garbage and porn shops, but the prevalence of the same socio-political issues as well. It's essentially a period piece, and more discussion should probably be centering around how that informs and even exacerbates the shocking events. And when talking about a mentally ill character, how it pushes him further over the edge when any or all of the few options available to him start to rapidly disappear. The idea of placing Arthur in this setting during that era was a masterstroke by Phillips, greatly heightening the intensity of nearly everything that occurs over the two hour running time.

Rarely does relief come from the feeling of being trapped in a powder keg ready to explode, and for someone like Arthur, it's a living hell. Phillips' and Scott Silver's script nails the idea that back then no one, aside from medical professionals, would recognize something as rarely talked about or acknowledged as mental illness. As a result, the surrounding characters pretty much write him off as merely a creepy "weirdo" no one would even think of considering a danger or threat on his worst day. It's this all too familar underestimation that helps leads to devastating consequences in a tumultuous city ripe for the picking. The setting also gives the movie an incredible out, allowing Arthur's behavior to rise to alarming heights before law enforcement get involved, albeit way late. And based on the time period and circumstances, it's believable, allowing a crucial suspension of disbelief most other films couldn't get away with. This does, and masterfully.  

A noticeably emaciated Phoenix has to walk a tightrope here, conveying a sincerity and almost childlike innocence and curiosity in Arthur when we first meet him. He takes his job seriously and believes he can go places despite the obstacles facing him, until it becomes too much for his emotional faculties to process. His laughing condition (a real life disorder ingeniously incorporated into the character) only magnifies the awkwardness of every already awkward encounter he has. Very few of his relationships are functional. Whether it's with his mom, co-workers, boss or girlfriend. The latter is especially rife with dysfunction, almost immediately sending out warning signs that something's amiss in this dynamic, possibly on both sides.

It's hardly a spoiler to state that once the Sinatra and Chaplin aficionado obtains a weapon for self-defense and gets his first taste of violence, Phoenix is able to take Arthur on a credible trajectory from someone who initially appears as if they couldn't hurt a fly to an unstable vigilante starting to get noticed and drunk with delusions of grandeur. His problems keep piling up, but because so many of Gotham's lesser off inhabitants can closely relate, he may eventually end up getting his time in the spotlight after all. Just like his idol, Murray Franklin. After all, what Arthur always craved most was attention and adulation. Echoing shades of Taxi Driver, he'll eventually get it, just not in the way that he or anyone else would have envisioned. 

Cleverly riffing on former co-star Jerry Lewis' role opposite his in The King of Comedy, De Niro delivers his most memorable supporting turn in years, proving to be a far more engaging presence as the fictitious talk show host than the notoriously guarded actor's been as a real life guest on them. How the media-obsessed Arthur's path eventually crosses with his should seem absurd, and it is, but it also ingeniously highlights the social divide in Gotham, giving this tragic clown a pulpit from which to preach. Police involvement in Arthur's crime spree may be much delayed, but in the midst of such turmoil, it's still easy for him to continue going undetected and unnoticed as a local celebrity, just as as he has his entire life. What occurs in the third act may be extremely violent and disturbing, but the inevitable path was paved for it the entire time.

The only references made to anything related to the Batman canon are passing ones and strategically placed Easter eggs that fans will notice and appreciate without alienating others completely unfamilar with the character or its history. Really, all of that can be thrown out the window since this is about as far removed from that universe as it gets. Even the inclusion of the Wayne family is mainly to further fuel the wealthy disparity crisis ripping apart Gotham. There's also a deeply personal angle to this involving Arthur that's strangely effective, adding a lot of fuel to an already burning fire.

While this isn't some kind of Joker "origin story" and thankfully exists independently from any scenario in which such a term would exist, some audiences will probably still reserve the option to view it as such. Let them, just as long as there's never a sequel to this, and it stands just where it is. There's a thrill in knowing the only goal was to serve this specifically memorable character and story rather than feed a studio machine just waiting to churn out inferior mainstream follow-ups that would only undermine the exceptional work done by Phillips and Phoenix.

Even in a long line of Phoenix performances, this is one for the ages, and as serious and unsettling an exploration of mental illness as you're likely to see on screen. Those in doubt need only look at the controversy surrounding its release and the real fears that some could view an examination of this protagonist's problems as a call-to-arms, and a provocation to commit violence. That it caused such a an uproar speaks to the massively discomforting chord this story strikes, albeit one we've unfortunately gotten all too familiar with. If anything, let Joker stand as a warning against us ever becoming numb to it.

The Intern

Director: Nancy Meyers
Starring: Robert De Niro, Anne Hathaway, Rene Russo, Anders Holm, Andrew Rannells, Adam DeVine, Zack Pearlman, Nat Wolff, Celia Weston, JoJo Kushner
Running Time: 121 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

The Intern reminds us just how much we take some of our biggest movie stars for granted. They're so omnipresent and overexposed in our culture it's easy to forget why we even cared about them to begin with. Sometimes it just takes them simply playing normal, everyday people to remember that some of them also happen to be great actors. Two such stars headline Nancy Meyers' latest, which is advertised as a harmless, fluffy workplace rom-com that's a reasonable enough excuse to kill two hours, for both younger and older audiences. That description is at least partially true, as it often is for many of Meyers' films. But there's really something to be said for doing it well, and The Intern manages to get all the little things right.  It's entirely pleasurable experience from beginning to end with very few problems and a plot that isn't so much surprising as it is insightful and easygoing. And it isn't all that unrealistic in terms of the central topic it deftly handles with the help of its co-leads, who are generations apart, but entirely on the same page when it comes to making this material click.

The timely script not only avoids talking down to audiences about topics like workplace gender politics, social media, stay-at-home dads, and the generation gap, but actually goes a step further in making intelligent observations about them. Few mainstream American comedies would actively avoid depicting a CEO of a major company (much less a female one) as a tyrant or an elderly retiree as anything other than a senile loon. This one does, finding Robert De Niro and Anne Hathaway as charming and likable as they've recently been, with the former doing his most subdued work in years. Its two hours go down easily, as this delivers on nearly all its comedic and dramatic potential. 

Looking to escape the malaise of his retirement as a phone book company executive, seventy-year-old widower Ben Whittaker (De Niro) applies to a senior citizen internship program, with the hopes of briefly rejoining the workforce to positively contribute to society. He says as much in his YouTube video, which lands him an interview and eventual job with About The Fit, a Brooklyn-based e-commerce fashion startup founded by current CEO Jules Ostin (Hathaway), whose overnight success, but relative inexperience, is overwhelming her. When Ben is assigned to the Type A Jules, she begrudgingly takes him in, as her initial skepticism of this internship program (and seniors in general), begins to wane after realizing he's more than fully capable of handling a wide variety of tasks.

Charming the entire office with his winning personality and knowledge, Ben soon has a positive influence on Jules, whose marriage has been suffering since her husband Matt (Anders Holm) gave up his career to become a stay-at-home dad to their young daughter, Paige (JoJo Kushner). Crumbling under the pressures of running her company, she finds an unlikely friend and father figure in Ben, who finds he might also have a lot to learn from the younger generation.

Given its story structure and thematic content, this could still be considered your typical rom-com, though there's hardly any romance to speak of and most entries in that genre aren't typically this restrained. That's evident from the very first scene, in which Ben records a video resume you actually believe would get this clearly articulate senior through the door for an interview and land him the position in a heartbeat. While much of that credit goes to De Niro's firm grip on the material, he stills needs dialogue of substance to deliver and Meyers' script continually comes through on that front. It was inevitable we'd get jokes about Ben's cluelessness about current technology as he steps into a progressive, contemporary office filled with Millennials, but the movie doesn't dwell on it or make Ben the butt of the joke. Even social media is incorporated fairly well into the plot without hammering us over the head with it.

While we're frequently laughing with Ben rather than at him, it's easy to imagine a lesser script doing the opposite, instead depicting him as an old blowhard set in his stubborn ways. If anything, he's as open to learning new things as his far younger co-workers are to learning from him. They don't go for easy Millennial jokes either, as all the employees at this company seem fairly competent rather than coming across as extras in an SNL skit skewering young people.

Whether it's Father of the Bride or It's Complicated, Meyers' films are frequently criticized for living in fantasy land, enveloping its audience in a saccharine Hollywood wish-fulfillment. To an extent that's true, but here's the rare case where her depiction is actually closer to reality than a snarkier, more negative portrayal would be. And it's also nice to see a comedy where characters aren't living in impossibly expensive New York City apartments because it looks nice on camera, but because their salaries and income levels dictate that they should.

If the portrayal of Ben is smart, the depiction of Jules may be even wiser. Removing the fact she's a female CEO and the whole stay-at-home-dad issue, imagine how tempting it must have been to write this character as a total bitch for comedy and conflict. And with Hathaway in the role the temptation was likely far greater to create a kind of reverse Devil Wears Prada, this time sending up media and public perception of the actress. But Meyers is too clever for that.

By making Jules an insecure CEO full of self-doubt that she can even handle this job, it makes her eventual bond with Ben mean more because his advice becomes invaluable. And just look at Jules' husband. They actually had the guts to cast some unknown, normal looking hipster guy in the role opposite Hathaway. The second we see them together something seems off. Why? Because it's realistic. And he seems like just the kind of person who would be thrown for a loop when Jules' career ascension completely alters their lives.

There's a romantic subplot involving Ben and the company masseuse (played by Rene Russo) that's kind of a throwaway until you start to realize that if the roles were reversed and Russo's character were a man, her behavior could result in termination or worse. Did the movie intentionally do this as a sly commentary on gender politics? Of course not. But it's there. And as far as third act complications go, the one involving Jules is actually pretty good, taking that gender reversal theme as far as it goes. The ending is a bit tidy, but it isn't often that a romantic comedy goes into the final stretch with a woman holding as many cards as Jules does here.

At this point, Hathaway could convincingly play any occupation and as this uncertain CEO, she walks a fine line between being a little bit prickly and demanding, while almost being entirely too good-hearted a person to succeed in the position she's been put in. Making matters more interesting is that the person who put her there was herself, sometimes much to her own disbelief. Hathaway effectively draws a contrast in how Jules behaves at work and at home, startling for both its similarities and differences. And it's safe to say if the character was written as one-dimensionally as the trailers implied, she would have found a way to make that work just as well.

De Niro is pretty much a revelation here. "Subtle" isn't exactly a word that jumps to mind when considering his comedic work and so much of what he does dramatically rests on kind of a tough guy persona. This is so different from anything he's done recently because he dials everything down so much and just conveys this quiet, confident intelligence that lets us know that Ben knows the deal. At one point Jules remarks just how observant Ben is and the same description can just as easily be applied to De Niro's performance, which was good enough for a nomination if more people bothered to take it seriously. They really should have.

If there's one thing missing, it's conflict or stakes of any kind,It's so efficiently written and the characters so smart and likable that you keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. But let's be honest. You don't see a Nancy Meyers movie for conflict any more than you'd watch Garry Marshall's Mother's Day for explosions. It's supposed to be a palette cleanser, as you root for good people essentially being good to each other for two hours. As that, it's a phenomenal success.

There's a couple of scenes in the film where Ben and Jules are talking about their lives and it feels so organic. Two people of entirely different ages and generations finding a common ground. The line between employee and employer disappears as two friends bond over their disparate situations, that aren't quite as far apart as you'd think. And it doesn't feel corny or creepy in the slightest because of these two great actors and the fact that the right creative choices were made by Meyers to have them land naturally at this point. The Intern doesn't reinvent the wheel but is does occasionally surprise with just how much it accomplishes with a relatively simple but engaging premise.
  

Dennis Has a Podcast: 2013 Oscars Preview (with Jeremy The Critic)

After almost a year absence I returned as a guest to my good friend Dennis' fantastic Dennis Has A Podcast (great logo by the way!) and discussed all things Oscar. We previewed the big show tomorrow, offered up our predictions, talked about what we hope to expect, and still found time to cover some other fun stuff too. As always, it was a blast. Plus, you get to listen to me rant about why Silver Linings Playbook deserves to win Best Picture. What's not to like?

Click here to listen

And don't forget to check out other episodes of DHAP on iTunes, TuneIn, and Stitcher, like him on Facebook, and follow him on Twitter.