When black gold is struck in Osage County, white benefactors manage oil assets for the native Americans who own the land. After returning from World War I, Ernest Buckhart (Leonardo di Caprio) is tasked by uncle William King Hale (Robert de Niro) with getting close to Mollie (Lily Gladstone) who has lucrative land rights to her name.

Scorsese’s admirable attempt to shed light on real-life Mollie’s plight is undermined by relegating her to an underdeveloped supporting Character with no agency, either oblivious to what’s going on around her or outlandishly forgiving. The story is undoubtedly a poor choice for a director whose lack of interest in female characters is on the record.

Instead the film focuses on the struggles of Ernest, whose plans for Mollie are so manipulative and cruel that the pretence of moral conflict between his love of his wife and love of money becomes laughable. The film’s gargantuan runtime is filled almost entirely of people talking, so to leave characters under-developed and their motivations unclear is almost a feat in itself.

This is a shame because Killers of the Flower Moon has a lot going for it. Scorsese’s skill behind the camera has only ripened with age, maintaining an astonishing level of attention to detail throughout. With not a single moment which looks like CGI, Scorsese’s commitment to the practical art of filmmaking continues to push boundaries. He also seeks genuine improvement in the representation of native Americans on screen, with a number of characters with speaking roles. It’s a sorry sign of Hollywood’s history that this represents progress.

There are some sublime performances, even from characters who aren’t given enough to do. But ultimately Killers of the Flower Moon would be better if it was told from Mollie’s perspective: the apparently loving husband gradually revealed to be manipulative and self-serving. This would be a more compelling narrative, and do greater justice to the real-life victim of white supremacy.