Leonardo DiCaprio - (Please Read First Post Prior to Posting)

[Jade Bahr]

Screaming over the Jack/evil twin Ernest/Titanic part Interesting summary altogether. I agree with almost everything. Especially that we young (mainly female) fans played a significant part in where he is today and the only thing he ever did was not taken us seriously. But yeah Leo after all those years I'm still here watching your movies. You're welcome.

 

Commentary: ‘Titanic’ made Leonardo DiCaprio a Hollywood heartthrob. He’s been avoiding it ever since

 

“Leonardo DiCaprio is the most riveting and sought-after new actor in Hollywood. From the moment he appeared on the big screen, the camera loved him. With his piercing blue-green eyes and his shock of blond hair, Leonardo is breaking hearts and box-office records around the globe.” — from “Leonardo DiCaprio, Modern-Day Romeo” by Grace Catalano

 

To be alive in 1998 was to be acutely aware that a man named Leonardo DiCaprio roamed the Earth — and that seemingly wherever he went, screaming girls and clamoring paparazzi were sure to follow.

 

In the 12 months that followed the release of “Titanic” in December 1997, the world was gripped by a case of celebrity fervor that rivaled the heyday of the Beatles and — with all due respect to Harry Styles and Timothée Chalamet — has not been replicated since.

 

“Titanic” reigned at the top of the box office for 15 weeks, becoming the highest-grossing film of all time, a title it would hold for 12 years. The success of the movie, the subject of much skeptical pre-release coverage about its then unprecedented $200-million budget, was anything but guaranteed. It was fueled largely by the passion of young women and teenage girls who swooned over DiCaprio’s portrayal of Jack Dawson, the vagabond artist who stole the heart of rich girl Rose DeWitt Bukater (Kate Winslet), then saved her life by sacrificing himself to the icy depths of the North Atlantic (even though we all know there was room for two people on that door).

 

These young admirers, many of whom had fallen for DiCaprio’s sensitive performances in “What’s Eating Gilbert Grape,” “This Boy’s Life” and “William Shakespeare’s Romeo + Juliet,” went to see the movie half a dozen times or more. Their curiosity turned quickie, unauthorized biographies like “Leonardo DiCaprio: Modern-Day Romeo” into bestsellers and compelled them to fire up their modems and head to GeoCities to make rudimentary websites that functioned like virtual bedroom walls.

 

The media couldn’t get enough of Leomania, publishing breathless accounts of his romantic conquests and chronicling the late-night exploits of the actor’s infamous posse, a tight-knit circle of friends that included Tobey Maguire and Kevin Connolly. DiCaprio was so ubiquitous that the Taliban reportedly arrested barbers for giving men haircuts modeled after Jack Dawson’s floppy ’do.

 

“Titanic” would go on to win 11 Oscars, including best picture, though DiCaprio was not even nominated — a snub that inspired fans to flood the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences with angry phone calls. His exclusion looks even more egregious with the benefit of hindsight. (The category that year was dominated by veterans like Dustin Hoffman and Jack Nicholson, with the “cute young guy” slot going to Matt Damon for “Good Will Hunting.”) It was clear that academy voters didn’t take DiCaprio seriously when he was in matinee idol mode — and that his “limp, lovesick” teenage fans were not considered trustworthy arbiters of taste. Even DiCaprio was, at times, openly disdainful of his adolescent admirers; members of his entourage were known to dump water on fans loitering outside his apartment building.

 

Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet in “Titanic.” (Paramount Pictures)

 

DiCaprio, who skipped the Oscars that year, could barely mask his ambivalence about “Titanic” and the way it launched him from misfit roles into leading-man territory. “After the whole experience, I know it’s really not my cup of tea,” he told Vanity Fair.

 

The period after “Titanic” “was a very empty existence,” DiCaprio said in a New York Times profile — a rare solo sit-down for the actor — in 2002, as he was staging what was then viewed as a “comeback.” “I’d get headaches from dealing with pure unadulterated garbage. But you can’t help it. It becomes who you are. You’re suddenly defined in the media as a cutie-pie.”

 

DiCaprio has spent the last quarter century doing everything in his power to make audiences forget he could ever be considered a “cutie-pie” — or anything less than a Very Serious Actor.

 

His transformation culminates this week with the release of “Killers of the Flower Moon,” directed by his longtime collaborator Martin Scorsese. Based on David Grann’s engrossing nonfiction bestseller, the epic dramatizes the Osage Reign of Terror, a period in the 1920s when dozens of oil-rich Osage people were systematically murdered by white people attempting to gain control of their fortune — a spree of greed-fueled, racist violence that has received scant attention in the history books, or from Hollywood.

 

With tobacco-stained teeth and a protruding underbite reminiscent of Marlon Brando in “The Godfather,” DiCaprio stars as Ernest Burkart, a dim-witted World War I veteran roped into a sinister plot devised by his uncle, William “King” Hale (Robert De Niro), a self-proclaimed friend of the Osage who, it soon becomes clear, is anything but. At Hale’s behest, Ernest marries an Osage woman named Mollie Kyle (a mesmerizing Lily Gladstone), whose relatives begin to die off, one by one, under mysterious circumstances. Eventually, Tom White (Jesse Plemons), an agent with the newly formed Bureau of Investigation, rolls into town to find out who is behind the crimes — something the audience knows from the opening minutes of the film.

 

Though DiCaprio plays him as more of a tragic rube than a cold-blooded killer, Ernest is, arguably, his most villainous character to date — Jack Dawson’s evil, boneheaded twin — and easily his most despicable since Calvin Candie, the sadistic plantation owner in “Django Unchained.” Let’s put it this way: if Ernest had been on the Titanic, he would have taken the whole door for himself. And probably pushed Rose into the ocean while he was at it.

 

DiCaprio was originally attached to star as White, who is a much more significant figure in Grann’s book. Early drafts of the script by Scorsese and Eric Roth focused on the investigation into the murders, but several years into the development process, the project was drastically overhauled, reportedly at the insistence of DiCaprio, who was recast as Ernest. Instead of a white savior narrative about valiant law enforcement officials cracking the case, “Killers of the Flower Moon” now centers on the twisted relationship between Mollie and Ernest.

 

While the impulse to re-frame the story and foreground the Osage perspective is understandable, even laudable, the end result is a movie that spends more than three hours following two white men as they enact a slow-rolling genocide of their own extended family. The pickings may have been slim in 1920s Oklahoma, but it’s also difficult to comprehend why Mollie, who is stoic but shrewd, would fall for someone as transparently sleazy as Ernest.

 

Lily Gladstone and Leonardo DiCaprio in “Killers of the Flower Moon.” (Apple TV+)

 

With a running time of three hours and 26 minutes (12 minutes longer than “Titanic”) and a reported budget of $200 million, “Killers of the Flower Moon” is exactly the kind of Big, Important Movie that DiCaprio has been making, almost exclusively, since he became the king of the world. He has not starred in a feature film under two hours since “The Beach” in 2000, which clocked in at one hour and 59 minutes.

 

After that picture, a critical disappointment that did middling box office, he took several years off, before returning to film by pairing with two of our greatest living auteurs: Steven Spielberg, whose breezy “Catch Me if You Can” starred DiCaprio as a charming con artist, and Scorsese, whose gritty 19th century epic about American identity, “Gangs of New York,” began a long and fruitful collaboration.

 

Since then, DiCaprio has worked almost exclusively with well-established (read: male) directors — Scorsese, Quentin Tarantino, Alejandro González Iñárritu, Christopher Nolan — on films with obvious awards aspirations. He’s donned an array of regrettable facial hair, old-age makeup and greasy wigs to transform into vile plantation owners, shameless financial criminals, rumpled astronomy professors, washed-up actors and legendary real-world paranoiacs. He is not so much Hollywood’s biggest movie star as its best-paid character actor.

 

DiCaprio, who turns 50 next year, has generally done everything he can to dim his still boyish good looks, except in “The Great Gatsby,” an adaptation of perhaps the most celebrated American novel of the 20th century that he was initially reluctant to join because he remembered it as a “ traditional love story.” In 2016, he finally won an Oscar, after four previous nominations, for his performance as a vengeance-hungry frontiersman in “The Revenant.” His characters often die, but since “Titanic,” they rarely do so for love.

 

DiCaprio in “The Revenant.” (Kimberley French / 20th Century Fox)

 

DiCaprio has taken physical risks, famously eating raw bison liver and filming in the freezing cold for months on end in “The Revenant,” for instance, but creatively he has taken a safer approach. (He has also taken fewer at-bats, only appearing in four feature films since 2014.) And though he hasn’t made an abject stinker in decades, the rebelliousness and messy experimentation that marked his pre-”Titanic” films, like “The Basketball Diaries” or “Total Eclipse,” have long since given way to the caution of someone afraid of not being taken seriously. (“Total Eclipse,” released in 1995 and centering on the relationship between French poets Arthur Rimbaud and Paul Verlaine, is also the last time DiCaprio starred in a narrative feature directed by a woman.)

 

He has also strictly guarded his privacy, rarely granting extensive solo interviews or making routine chit-chat on late night TV, and he has assiduously cultivated his image as a serious climate change activist by producing documentaries and launching an environmental foundation.

 

In the early years of his fame, DiCaprio was candid with journalists, coming off as a charming prankster and precocious cut-up. He spoke of wanting to get married and have children, even telling Interview’s Ingrid Sischy that Pauly Shore taught him all about sex and girls (in retrospect, a major red flag). Nowadays, when he does do press, he tends to rehash the same colorful anecdotes that delight talk show viewers but ultimately reveal almost nothing about his life, like the time he was flying to Russia and the engine on the plane failed.

 

The internet has filled the resulting void by caricaturing DiCaprio — who wears an average bro uniform of T-shirts, cargo shorts, baseball caps and sunglasses when off-duty — as an aging Lothario who dumps his girlfriends the minute they turn 25. When he (or, more likely, his social media team) posts earnestly on Instagram about endangered frogs, the comments inevitably turn to jokes about how old the frog is.

 

The irony is that DiCaprio’s young female fans appreciated his talents before many others in Hollywood. They knew he was way better than he needed to be as a homeless teenager in the final season of “Growing Pains,” where, in a textbook example of “Cousin Oliver Syndrome,” he was brought in to revive a flagging sitcom. They felt his anguish in “This Boy’s Life,” his first movie with Robert De Niro, who was so impressed with his young co-star that he called up his old pal Scorsese to tell him about it. And they propelled “William Shakespeare’s Romeo + Juliet,” Baz Luhrmann’s MTV-ified take on the classic tragedy, to become a surprise box office hit. For teenage girls who considered themselves too edgy for Jonathan Taylor Thomas, DiCaprio represented a different kind of heartthrob, and an heir apparent to River Phoenix, whom DiCaprio also idolized. Even his name — Leonardo DiCaprio — seemed romantic.

 

It’s instructive to look at how Winslet, his co-star in “Titanic” and, later, “Revolutionary Road,” has approached her post-”Titanic” career. Though she has also won an Oscar and cemented her status as one of the finest actors of her generation, she has experimented wildly. She’s played prickly and unlikable characters, starred in cozy romantic comedies, big-budget thrillers and queer period pieces. She’s worked with legendary directors and up-and-comers and has even — gasp! — done TV. Several times. This may be why the teenage girls who once memorized every piece of Leo trivia like it was sacred scripture — Did you know an agent once tried to get him to change his name to Lenny Williams? — are now middle-age women who have long since shut down their fan sites and eagerly await a possible second season of “Mare of Easttown.”

 

It may have been a cash grab, but the very existence of “Leonardo DiCaprio, Modern-Day Romeo” acknowledged, as perhaps even DiCaprio himself has not, that the actor’s female fans were central to making him the sort of hero James Cameron or Martin Scorsese could hang a film on. And though he’s since run away from the persona they loved, there would be no Leomania, or Leonardo DiCaprio as we know him, if those fans hadn’t supported him first.

 

Not that young women alive in 2023 are terribly bothered about it. According to most projections, they’ll be too busy keeping another star-driven epic atop the box office this weekend: “Taylor Swift: The Eras Tour.”

 

Source

[BarbieErin]

2 hours ago, Jade Bahr said:

Screaming over the Jack/evil twin Ernest/Titanic part Interesting summary altogether. I agree with almost everything. Especially that we young (mainly female) fans played a significant part in where he is today and the only thing he ever did was not taken us seriously. But yeah Leo after all those years I'm still here watching your movies. You're welcome.

 

Commentary: ‘Titanic’ made Leonardo DiCaprio a Hollywood heartthrob. He’s been avoiding it ever since

 

“Leonardo DiCaprio is the most riveting and sought-after new actor in Hollywood. From the moment he appeared on the big screen, the camera loved him. With his piercing blue-green eyes and his shock of blond hair, Leonardo is breaking hearts and box-office records around the globe.” — from “Leonardo DiCaprio, Modern-Day Romeo” by Grace Catalano

 

To be alive in 1998 was to be acutely aware that a man named Leonardo DiCaprio roamed the Earth — and that seemingly wherever he went, screaming girls and clamoring paparazzi were sure to follow.

 

In the 12 months that followed the release of “Titanic” in December 1997, the world was gripped by a case of celebrity fervor that rivaled the heyday of the Beatles and — with all due respect to Harry Styles and Timothée Chalamet — has not been replicated since.

 

“Titanic” reigned at the top of the box office for 15 weeks, becoming the highest-grossing film of all time, a title it would hold for 12 years. The success of the movie, the subject of much skeptical pre-release coverage about its then unprecedented $200-million budget, was anything but guaranteed. It was fueled largely by the passion of young women and teenage girls who swooned over DiCaprio’s portrayal of Jack Dawson, the vagabond artist who stole the heart of rich girl Rose DeWitt Bukater (Kate Winslet), then saved her life by sacrificing himself to the icy depths of the North Atlantic (even though we all know there was room for two people on that door).

 

These young admirers, many of whom had fallen for DiCaprio’s sensitive performances in “What’s Eating Gilbert Grape,” “This Boy’s Life” and “William Shakespeare’s Romeo + Juliet,” went to see the movie half a dozen times or more. Their curiosity turned quickie, unauthorized biographies like “Leonardo DiCaprio: Modern-Day Romeo” into bestsellers and compelled them to fire up their modems and head to GeoCities to make rudimentary websites that functioned like virtual bedroom walls.

 

The media couldn’t get enough of Leomania, publishing breathless accounts of his romantic conquests and chronicling the late-night exploits of the actor’s infamous posse, a tight-knit circle of friends that included Tobey Maguire and Kevin Connolly. DiCaprio was so ubiquitous that the Taliban reportedly arrested barbers for giving men haircuts modeled after Jack Dawson’s floppy ’do.

 

“Titanic” would go on to win 11 Oscars, including best picture, though DiCaprio was not even nominated — a snub that inspired fans to flood the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences with angry phone calls. His exclusion looks even more egregious with the benefit of hindsight. (The category that year was dominated by veterans like Dustin Hoffman and Jack Nicholson, with the “cute young guy” slot going to Matt Damon for “Good Will Hunting.”) It was clear that academy voters didn’t take DiCaprio seriously when he was in matinee idol mode — and that his “limp, lovesick” teenage fans were not considered trustworthy arbiters of taste. Even DiCaprio was, at times, openly disdainful of his adolescent admirers; members of his entourage were known to dump water on fans loitering outside his apartment building.

 

Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet in “Titanic.” (Paramount Pictures)

 

DiCaprio, who skipped the Oscars that year, could barely mask his ambivalence about “Titanic” and the way it launched him from misfit roles into leading-man territory. “After the whole experience, I know it’s really not my cup of tea,” he told Vanity Fair.

 

The period after “Titanic” “was a very empty existence,” DiCaprio said in a New York Times profile — a rare solo sit-down for the actor — in 2002, as he was staging what was then viewed as a “comeback.” “I’d get headaches from dealing with pure unadulterated garbage. But you can’t help it. It becomes who you are. You’re suddenly defined in the media as a cutie-pie.”

 

DiCaprio has spent the last quarter century doing everything in his power to make audiences forget he could ever be considered a “cutie-pie” — or anything less than a Very Serious Actor.

 

His transformation culminates this week with the release of “Killers of the Flower Moon,” directed by his longtime collaborator Martin Scorsese. Based on David Grann’s engrossing nonfiction bestseller, the epic dramatizes the Osage Reign of Terror, a period in the 1920s when dozens of oil-rich Osage people were systematically murdered by white people attempting to gain control of their fortune — a spree of greed-fueled, racist violence that has received scant attention in the history books, or from Hollywood.

 

With tobacco-stained teeth and a protruding underbite reminiscent of Marlon Brando in “The Godfather,” DiCaprio stars as Ernest Burkart, a dim-witted World War I veteran roped into a sinister plot devised by his uncle, William “King” Hale (Robert De Niro), a self-proclaimed friend of the Osage who, it soon becomes clear, is anything but. At Hale’s behest, Ernest marries an Osage woman named Mollie Kyle (a mesmerizing Lily Gladstone), whose relatives begin to die off, one by one, under mysterious circumstances. Eventually, Tom White (Jesse Plemons), an agent with the newly formed Bureau of Investigation, rolls into town to find out who is behind the crimes — something the audience knows from the opening minutes of the film.

 

Though DiCaprio plays him as more of a tragic rube than a cold-blooded killer, Ernest is, arguably, his most villainous character to date — Jack Dawson’s evil, boneheaded twin — and easily his most despicable since Calvin Candie, the sadistic plantation owner in “Django Unchained.” Let’s put it this way: if Ernest had been on the Titanic, he would have taken the whole door for himself. And probably pushed Rose into the ocean while he was at it.

 

DiCaprio was originally attached to star as White, who is a much more significant figure in Grann’s book. Early drafts of the script by Scorsese and Eric Roth focused on the investigation into the murders, but several years into the development process, the project was drastically overhauled, reportedly at the insistence of DiCaprio, who was recast as Ernest. Instead of a white savior narrative about valiant law enforcement officials cracking the case, “Killers of the Flower Moon” now centers on the twisted relationship between Mollie and Ernest.

 

While the impulse to re-frame the story and foreground the Osage perspective is understandable, even laudable, the end result is a movie that spends more than three hours following two white men as they enact a slow-rolling genocide of their own extended family. The pickings may have been slim in 1920s Oklahoma, but it’s also difficult to comprehend why Mollie, who is stoic but shrewd, would fall for someone as transparently sleazy as Ernest.

 

Lily Gladstone and Leonardo DiCaprio in “Killers of the Flower Moon.” (Apple TV+)

 

With a running time of three hours and 26 minutes (12 minutes longer than “Titanic”) and a reported budget of $200 million, “Killers of the Flower Moon” is exactly the kind of Big, Important Movie that DiCaprio has been making, almost exclusively, since he became the king of the world. He has not starred in a feature film under two hours since “The Beach” in 2000, which clocked in at one hour and 59 minutes.

 

After that picture, a critical disappointment that did middling box office, he took several years off, before returning to film by pairing with two of our greatest living auteurs: Steven Spielberg, whose breezy “Catch Me if You Can” starred DiCaprio as a charming con artist, and Scorsese, whose gritty 19th century epic about American identity, “Gangs of New York,” began a long and fruitful collaboration.

 

Since then, DiCaprio has worked almost exclusively with well-established (read: male) directors — Scorsese, Quentin Tarantino, Alejandro González Iñárritu, Christopher Nolan — on films with obvious awards aspirations. He’s donned an array of regrettable facial hair, old-age makeup and greasy wigs to transform into vile plantation owners, shameless financial criminals, rumpled astronomy professors, washed-up actors and legendary real-world paranoiacs. He is not so much Hollywood’s biggest movie star as its best-paid character actor.

 

DiCaprio, who turns 50 next year, has generally done everything he can to dim his still boyish good looks, except in “The Great Gatsby,” an adaptation of perhaps the most celebrated American novel of the 20th century that he was initially reluctant to join because he remembered it as a “ traditional love story.” In 2016, he finally won an Oscar, after four previous nominations, for his performance as a vengeance-hungry frontiersman in “The Revenant.” His characters often die, but since “Titanic,” they rarely do so for love.

 

DiCaprio in “The Revenant.” (Kimberley French / 20th Century Fox)

 

DiCaprio has taken physical risks, famously eating raw bison liver and filming in the freezing cold for months on end in “The Revenant,” for instance, but creatively he has taken a safer approach. (He has also taken fewer at-bats, only appearing in four feature films since 2014.) And though he hasn’t made an abject stinker in decades, the rebelliousness and messy experimentation that marked his pre-”Titanic” films, like “The Basketball Diaries” or “Total Eclipse,” have long since given way to the caution of someone afraid of not being taken seriously. (“Total Eclipse,” released in 1995 and centering on the relationship between French poets Arthur Rimbaud and Paul Verlaine, is also the last time DiCaprio starred in a narrative feature directed by a woman.)

 

He has also strictly guarded his privacy, rarely granting extensive solo interviews or making routine chit-chat on late night TV, and he has assiduously cultivated his image as a serious climate change activist by producing documentaries and launching an environmental foundation.

 

In the early years of his fame, DiCaprio was candid with journalists, coming off as a charming prankster and precocious cut-up. He spoke of wanting to get married and have children, even telling Interview’s Ingrid Sischy that Pauly Shore taught him all about sex and girls (in retrospect, a major red flag). Nowadays, when he does do press, he tends to rehash the same colorful anecdotes that delight talk show viewers but ultimately reveal almost nothing about his life, like the time he was flying to Russia and the engine on the plane failed.

 

The internet has filled the resulting void by caricaturing DiCaprio — who wears an average bro uniform of T-shirts, cargo shorts, baseball caps and sunglasses when off-duty — as an aging Lothario who dumps his girlfriends the minute they turn 25. When he (or, more likely, his social media team) posts earnestly on Instagram about endangered frogs, the comments inevitably turn to jokes about how old the frog is.

 

The irony is that DiCaprio’s young female fans appreciated his talents before many others in Hollywood. They knew he was way better than he needed to be as a homeless teenager in the final season of “Growing Pains,” where, in a textbook example of “Cousin Oliver Syndrome,” he was brought in to revive a flagging sitcom. They felt his anguish in “This Boy’s Life,” his first movie with Robert De Niro, who was so impressed with his young co-star that he called up his old pal Scorsese to tell him about it. And they propelled “William Shakespeare’s Romeo + Juliet,” Baz Luhrmann’s MTV-ified take on the classic tragedy, to become a surprise box office hit. For teenage girls who considered themselves too edgy for Jonathan Taylor Thomas, DiCaprio represented a different kind of heartthrob, and an heir apparent to River Phoenix, whom DiCaprio also idolized. Even his name — Leonardo DiCaprio — seemed romantic.

 

It’s instructive to look at how Winslet, his co-star in “Titanic” and, later, “Revolutionary Road,” has approached her post-”Titanic” career. Though she has also won an Oscar and cemented her status as one of the finest actors of her generation, she has experimented wildly. She’s played prickly and unlikable characters, starred in cozy romantic comedies, big-budget thrillers and queer period pieces. She’s worked with legendary directors and up-and-comers and has even — gasp! — done TV. Several times. This may be why the teenage girls who once memorized every piece of Leo trivia like it was sacred scripture — Did you know an agent once tried to get him to change his name to Lenny Williams? — are now middle-age women who have long since shut down their fan sites and eagerly await a possible second season of “Mare of Easttown.”

 

It may have been a cash grab, but the very existence of “Leonardo DiCaprio, Modern-Day Romeo” acknowledged, as perhaps even DiCaprio himself has not, that the actor’s female fans were central to making him the sort of hero James Cameron or Martin Scorsese could hang a film on. And though he’s since run away from the persona they loved, there would be no Leomania, or Leonardo DiCaprio as we know him, if those fans hadn’t supported him first.

 

Not that young women alive in 2023 are terribly bothered about it. According to most projections, they’ll be too busy keeping another star-driven epic atop the box office this weekend: “Taylor Swift: The Eras Tour.”

 

Source

 

I f****** HATED this article, seems more like a hater writing, lainey's cousin...

[BarbieErin]

28 minutes ago, Jade Bahr said:

I kinda respect what she achieved but I'm mostly not a fan of how she handeled things like her private/love life, public stunts/image, her crazy stans and criticism (she towards others and then when it backfires).

 

 

Exactly, I kinda like her music and I respect she as an artist... but her personality and the way she plays with media, with this fake friendships and "relationships", it's all a game and she's the master of playing it, it seems ALL sooo fake, argh, really makes me sick.  🤮🤢    

[LuckyGirl]

On 10/25/2023 at 11:02 PM, akatosh said:

Cute 🥰

On 10/25/2023 at 11:02 PM, akatosh said:

Cute

On 10/25/2023 at 11:02 PM, akatosh said:

Cute 🥰

😍😍😍that’s not in the movie, do you know if it’s a deleted scene or a behind a scene moment? 

 

[oxford25]

I sure hope Jeff knows what he is talking about

 

I want to see Leo on those award events red carpets !! 
 

 

[LuckyGirl]

6 minutes ago, oxford25 said:

I sure hope Jeff knows what he is talking about

 

I want to see Leo on those award events red carpets !! 
 

 

Hopefully I’m refreshing my feed waiting for the news hoping that the strike is over 

As much as a I’m happy that we have a new film, I’m also sad that there’s no promotion with leo, I’m dying for the stirke to end so we get to see leo 

[oxford25]

The latest from Jeff .. 

 

 

[Jade Bahr]

Some people really don't have problems. Looking for the theaters? Is she for real? She is lucky so many theaters are showing this dead ass long movie at all. Weird move.

 

Thelma Schoonmaker Says Theaters Showing ‘Killers of the Flower Moon’ With An Intermission Is A “Violation”

[Jade Bahr]

What Indigenous Artists Are Saying About Killers of the Flower Moon‘

Martin Scorsese’s Killers of the Flower Moon, based on David Grann’s 2007 book of the same name, tells the true story of the Osage Nation and the crimes committed against their people in 1920s Oklahoma. Scorsese’s goal in telling the story was to refocus the narrative on the Osage themselves, rather than the early days of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Despite having an endorsement from Principal Chief Geoffrey Standing Bear of the Osage Nation, the film, in its second week of release and trailing closely behind Taylor Swift: The Eras Tour, is beginning to widen into a bigger and deeper conversation about, as Chief Standing Bear calls it, “challenging history.”

 

Devery Jacobs, who starred in Hulu’s acclaimed Reservation Dogs, critiqued the film, calling it “painful, grueling, unrelenting and unnecessarily graphic.” Jacobs, who is a Native actress from Canada and activist, shared “strong feelings” in a Twitter thread on October 23. “I don’t feel that these very real people were shown honor or dignity in the horrific portrayal of their deaths,” she wrote. “Contrarily, I believe that by showing more murdered Native women on screen, it normalizes the violence committed against us and further dehumanizes our people.”

 

“Indig ppl exist beyond our grief, trauma & atrocities,” she said. “Our pride for being Native, our languages, cultures, joy & love are way more interesting & humanizing than showing the horrors white men inflicted on us.”

 

In a statement from October 20, Chief Standing Bear said the atrocities laid bare the truth. “Killers of the Flower Moon is an Osage story of trust and betrayal as directed by Martin Scorsese,” Standing Bear in a statement. “While watching, you need to know that this is a true story. Many Osage lives were lost, and whole family trees were forever altered. The film lays bare the truth and injustices done to us, while challenging history not to be repeated. We honor our ancestors who endured this time by continuing to survive and ensuring our future, guided by our Wahzhazhe culture and traditions.”

 

Gianna Sieke, an Osage Nation princess from 2021 to 2023 who worked on the film, discussed the difficulty of the history portrayed with Today. “It does tell our dark history, but it’s also including things that no one really knows, and it hasn’t been expressed to Osage people and anyone because it’s a dark history,” Sieke said. “People don’t really talk about it that much. And because of that, [the movie] has made a really big impact. Families are learning to cope and understand.” Regarding a scene in which Mollie Burkhart (Lily Gladstone) learns about a family tragedy, Osage Nation Congress member Brandy Lemon, who worked as a liaison between the film and the Osage community, told Today she “still wasn’t ready for it.” “It just hit me in the gut so hard, and every time I watch it, it still does,” she said.

 

Another point of discussion became Scorsese’s choice to make Ernest Burkhart, a white man who committed the film’s central crimes played by Leonardo DiCaprio, the main character. Christopher Cote, an Osage language consultant on the film, told The Hollywood Reporter on October 19 that “Martin Scorsese, not being Osage, I think he did a great job representing our people, but this history is being told almost from the perspective of Ernest Burkhart — they kind of give him this conscience and kind of depict that there’s love,” he said at the film’s Los Angeles premiere. “But when somebody conspires to murder your entire family, that’s not love. That’s not love, that’s just beyond abuse.”

 

“I think in the end, the question that you can be left with is: How long will you be complacent with racism?” Cote said. “How long will you go along with something and not say something, not speak up, how long will you be complacent? I think that’s because this film isn’t made for an Osage audience: It was made for everybody, not Osage. For those that have been disenfranchised, they can relate; but for other countries that have their acts and their history of oppression, this is an opportunity for them to ask themselves this question of morality, and that’s how I feel about this film.”

 

Devery Jacobs Criticizes Scorsese’s ‘Killers of the Flower Moon’: The ‘White Perspective’ Was Centered

"Being Native, watching this movie was f*cking hellfire," the "Reservation Dogs" actress tweeted.

 

Actress Devery Jacobs is speaking out against Martin Scorsese’s “Killers of the Flower Moon.”

 

The “Reservation Dogs” star took to Twitter to address the 1920s-set epic that follows the real-life killings of indigenous Osage after oil was found on their land in Oklahoma. Lily Gladstone stars as Mollie Burkhart, who alerted the federal government of a series of murders. Leonardo DiCaprio stars as her husband, who helped a criminal mastermind (Robert De Niro) plan targeted attacks to inherit head rights.

 

“I HAVE THOUGHTS. I HAVE STRONG FEELINGS,” Jacobs tweeted. “This film was painful, grueling, unrelenting, and unnecessarily graphic.”

 

She continued, “Being Native, watching this movie was fucking hellfire. Imagine the worst atrocities committed against yr ancestors, then having to sit thru a movie explicitly filled w/ them, w/ the only respite being 30min long scenes of murderous white guys talking about/planning the killings.”

 

Jacobs wrote, “I don’t feel that these very real people were shown honor or dignity in the horrific portrayal of their deaths. Contrarily, I believe that by showing more murdered Native women on screen, it normalizes the violence committed against us and further dehumanizes our people. I can’t believe it needs to be said, but Indig ppl exist beyond our grief, trauma, & atrocities. Our pride for being Native, our languages, cultures, joy, & love are way more interesting & humanizing than showing the horrors white men inflicted on us.”

 

Jacobs called out Gladstone’s performance, which has garnered the actress Oscar buzz.

 

“It must be noted that Lily Gladstone is a an absolute legend & carried Mollie w/ tremendous grace,” Jacobs wrote. “All the incredible Indigenous actors were the only redeeming factors of this film. Give Lily her goddamn Oscar.”

 

Yet, Jacobs pointed to Osage character being “painfully underwritten” compared to De Niro and DiCaprio’s respective parts.

 

“But while all of the performances were strong, if you look proportionally, each of the Osage characters felt painfully underwritten, while the white men were given way more courtesy and depth,” Jacobs penned. “This is the issue when non-Native directors are given the liberty to tell our stories; they center the white perspective and focus on Native people’s pain.”

 

She continued, “For the Osage communities involved in creating this film; I can imagine how cathartic it is to have these stories and histories finally acknowledged, especially on such a prestigious platform like this film. There was beautiful work done by so many Wazhazhe on this film. But admittedly, I would prefer to see a $200 million movie from an Osage filmmaker telling this history, any day of the week.”

 

“Killers of the Flower Moon” star Gladstone previously told Vulture that the film is “not a white savior story” and instead centers around “the Osage saying, ‘Do something. Here’s money. Come help us.'”

 

She added that “you don’t say no to that offer” to star in a Scorsese film, but there’s a “double-edged sword” when it comes to telling stories of Indigenous people.

 

“You want to have more Natives writing Native stories; you also want the masters to pay attention to what’s going on,” Gladstone said. “American history is not history without Native history. It was clear that I wasn’t just going to be given space to collaborate. I was expected to bring a lot to the table. That’s what being equitable is — not just opening the door. It’s pulling a seat out next to you at the table.”

How ‘Killers of the Flower Moon’ Fails Native Americans Like Me

Despite Martin Scorsese’s best efforts, ‘Killers of the Flower Moon’ can’t escape its fundamentally white lens.

 

It’s the genteel kindness of the white characters in Martin Scorsese’s new film Killers of the Flower Moon that hit me hardest. The ease with which they could both comfort and kill their Osage friends and families. The veneer of love and compassion that masked envy and a disbelief that people they deemed “incompetent” could live better lives than themselves.

 

The Osage people at the heart of the film persevered against a sustained assault and genocide. They fought to thrive in a world they did not create with rules that were not their own. And yet, they are not at the center of their own story.

 

Instead, Killers of the Flower Moon is once again told through a white lens, despite concerted efforts by Scorsese and co-screenwriter Eric Roth to incorporate Osage voices. Osage language consultant Christopher Cote, who worked on the film, argued that it would have been better to tell the story through Mollie’s (Lily Gladstone) eyes, but would have needed an Osage director to make that happen. Reservation Dogs star Devery Jacobs recently said that the white characters were portrayed with greater “courtesy and depth” than the Osage characters.

 

As a citizen of the Chickasaw Nation, I couldn’t agree more.

 

Killers of the Flower Moon presents an unflinching account of greed and apathy fueled by America’s thirst for oil and the progress that came with it in the early 1900s. Americans replaced their horses with cars, and their candles with electricity powered by oil that improved their lives with the conveniences we take for granted today. And it was Osage men, women, and children who paid for Americans’ newfound prosperity.

 

The U.S. government deported the Osage people and other Native Americans from their homelands to Oklahoma in the 19th and early 20th centuries to make room for white settlers moving west. The Osage people had no choice but to give up the world they knew and start new lives. They arrived in Oklahoma as the oil-based economy took shape and negotiated terms that enabled them to sell parcels of land while keeping ownership of the minerals beneath them.

 

The Osage people did not expect to find any oil, let alone end up with the highest per capita wealth in the country. They lived the “American dream” of electric-powered prosperity better than white Americans ever dreamt possible. But white settlers followed the money, devising ruthless schemes to take Osage land and oil for themselves.

 

This is the world that Killers of the Flower Moon presents its viewers. It is a three-and-a-half-hour barrage of senseless killing masterminded by William Hale (Robert De Niro), a white patriarch who embedded himself within the Osage community. Hale called himself “King of the Osage Hills” and a “true friend” of the Osage people as he planned their deaths. Hale persuaded his nephew Ernest Burkhart (Leonardo DiCaprio) to woo and marry Mollie Kyle (Gladstone), who came from a wealthy Osage family.

 

More than 60 Osage people, including many members of Mollie’s family, lost their lives to mysterious poisonings or shootings before J. Edgar Hoover’s newly created Bureau of Investigations intervened and brought Hale and others to justice. The devastation of the Osage people was a means to an end, a trade-off the settlers were willing to make.

 

Long before the movie came to screens, it took a white author, David Grann, to give this story the national profile it deserves in his 2017 book Killers of the Flower Moon: The Osage Murders and the Birth of the FBI. However, Grann wasn’t the first author to tell the Osage people’s story; Chickasaw author Linda Hogan recounted it in her Pulitzer prize-winning book Mean Spirit in 1990, and 15 years later, Osage author Charles H. Red Corn gave his own people a voice in his book A Pipe for February.

 

Neither of those books caught the attention of Hollywood in the way Grann’s book did. I can only hope the power and success of this film will give Native creators an opportunity to tell their stories to inform, educate, and entertain the wider world.

 

But more than anything, Killers of the Flower Moon gives audiences a false sense of comfort. It is easy to condemn atrocities that took place a century ago and assure ourselves that we are better people today. However, this story and the moral questions it raises are as pressing for us today as they were then.

 

As America and the wider world find new engines to power our lives, replacing oil with lithium, cobalt, and other raw elements, again, it is marginalized people who pay the price for progress. In the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) “modern-day slaves” scrape the depths of mines to extract the cobalt used in more than 90 percent of the lithium batteries that power our cars. The DRC should be one of the wealthiest countries in the world, a Norway of Africa, but it remains one of the poorest.

 

Similar devastation is found where the quest for nickel, another vital element for electric car batteries, has destroyed villages and landscapes in Indonesia, Brazil, and other countries. The waste byproducts poison the water, kill food sources, and increase the risks of respiratory disorders and cancers for those living nearby.

 

Native Americans are also facing the threats of today’s industrial progress. Earlier this year, the U.S. federal government approved what will be the country’s largest lithium mine. Several Native nations objected to development in Thacker Pass, a nine-square-mile region of northern Nevada that they consider sacred land. It was on that same land that U.S. federal agents killed between 30 and 50 Native men, women, and children in 1865. Members of these tribes sued the federal government to stop this development, arguing that they were not sufficiently consulted. They lost their case in July, and development continues.

 

Killers of the Flower Moon raises painful questions that need urgent answers as we pursue our quest for energy, prosperity, and a sustainable future. No form of energy is truly “clean,” which means that someone will pay an economic, environmental, and social cost for its production. It’s far easier to make trade-offs in the name of progress when those trade-offs are made against people we don’t know in places we don’t see. As these cases show, this means that marginalized people will pay the highest price as others prosper.

 

We can’t right the wrongs of the past—or the present—without putting those directly affected at the heart of decisions made. They must shape the options available, and they must share in the benefits realized, as the Osage people did when they were forced to Oklahoma. However, they must also be protected with transparency and legal accountability to ensure they retain their rightful benefits and that any development is undertaken with their permission on terms acceptable to them. They, and their world, must be respected as highly as the world of the companies that extract resources or the consumers who drive the cars that their land made possible.

 

Achieving this will not be easy, but it is essential.

 

Killers of the Flower Moon Is Not the Story an Osage Would Have Told. You Should Still See It.

I’ve never seen a movie immerse itself in a culture like this film did with ours.

 

I’ve always been so proud to be Osage. I’m thankful that I have a father that instilled that identity in me from a young age, as well as a non-Indigenous mother who has always reinforced it. But being Indigenous comes with a heavy load. All too often, it feels that we’re carrying on our ancestors’ Sisyphean task of struggling to become more visible and have our issues heard by non-Indigenous communities.

 

So when I heard years ago that this story I had grown up hearing was being adapted into a feature film and that none other than Martin Scorsese was directing it, I was knocked off my feet. I also had conflicting thoughts. On one hand, this was an opportunity for us to have our history told like never before. On the other, it was being done by an outsider who hadn’t grown up with it like we had.

 

In 2021 those nerves were somewhat quieted. That year, I decided that I wanted to get more involved with my tribe and be given a name. My recent ancestors chose not to follow traditional naming practices (an effect of colonization), so finding my family’s clan has required a ton of work that I’m still undertaking. But because our Wahzhazhe Cultural Center was busy with this film, they were hardly able to handle any other requests for a long time. Knowing that Scorsese and his crew were making use of them and many other resources on the rez began to ease my concerns and gave me hope that we would be properly represented. And represented we were.

 

Before I saw Killers of the Flower Moon, I spoke with Jim Gray, a former chief of the Osage Nation. In our conversation, he told me that he’s never seen a film immerse itself in a culture like this one did with ours. Having now seen it, I have to wholeheartedly agree. Language was taught by our teachers, including Christopher Cote, who gave a wonderful interview after he saw the film at the Los Angeles premiere. The costumes were made by Osage artists. Everything feels authentic to the time period.

 

As far as the story itself goes, I do not think that this is how an Osage would’ve told it. From all I’ve read about Scorsese and Leonardo DiCaprio initiating a shift in the story’s focus to center the Osage perspective rather than that of Tom White and the then-named Bureau of Investigation, I was hopeful that we would experience this tragedy through Mollie Burkhart (played sensationally by Lily Gladstone), the real-life Osage woman whose family was the target of one of the schemes of William Hale (Robert De Niro). Instead, the filmmakers opted to follow her white husband, convicted murderer Ernest Burkhart (DiCaprio). While I am disappointed in this choice, I do think that viewing the plot through the lens of Ernest grants the non-Osage audience the opportunity to gain more knowledge and understanding of the murderous scheme as the movie goes on.

 

Like Christopher said, I think it would take an Osage to make this film from the perspective of an Osage person. The problem is that, as Gladstone has said, no one is giving an Osage filmmaker Scorsese money to tell our story right now. I hope that as more and more Indigenous filmmakers are given opportunities, an Osage will have the chance to adapt Charles H. Red Corn’s novel A Pipe for February. The book tells the story of the Reign of Terror from the perspective of someone that lived through it, and I think it serves as a necessary companion to David Grann’s more journalistic Killers of the Flower Moon.

 

As I was watching the film, I kept wondering how Scorsese would end it. After all, there’s no white savior here. We were not saved by what is now known as the FBI. Our people got through this by relying on one another. Many cases weren’t investigated, much less solved. It’s hard to put an end to a chapter that’s still present. To me, the finale just might be perfect. It elicited every single emotion I’ve ever felt when learning about the Reign of Terror. It made me so angry, so sad, and so disillusioned with our country’s justice system. It also serves as a painful reminder of how stories centered on nonwhite groups are often told. The affected population is all too frequently granted a mere footnote in their own story in favor of making sure the “good guys” are glorified for “saving the day,” regardless of historical accuracy.

 

Additionally, I feel that this scene turns the camera both inward and onto the audience simultaneously. (Slight spoilers ahead.) The all-white cast of what seems to be a radio program delivers this story of depravity not only to an in-studio audience of the same demographic, but also to the (presumably) predominantly white audience in the movie theater. The message from Scorsese? To my mind, it’s that he knows that he and the viewers are and have always been complicit in these atrocities. It’s now up to the audience whether they understand and accept their culpability.

 

There’s been so much made of the run time of this movie, but I wholeheartedly encourage you to see it. It doesn’t fly by per se, but it does maintain a good pace that I never found tedious. There’s a lot to tell here—my ancestors lived through more than a decade of this. A length of three and a half hours is more than justified. Besides, the masterful performances by everyone involved help to keep you locked in.

 

It’s important to me that you, the non-Osage reader of this article, know that this is merely a chapter in Osage history. While the effects of the Reign of Terror still live with us today, we do not live as victims. We are a proud, resilient people and our tribe is a thriving nation. I know that for many of you, this will be your first exposure to our people. I do hope it’s not the last.

 

For any non-Indigenous person seeing this film and encountering this history for the first time, I encourage you to be angry. I think it’s a very healthy emotion to feel when learning about an event like this. This is a depiction of greed, racism, and an attempted extermination of a people, after all. But rather than sitting and wrestling with that anger internally, I hope that you can turn it into a drive to get engaged. Indigenous communities still have many issues that affect us today. I hope you use your anger to help us fight for visibility and for change.

 

Finally, I leave you with this: As the opportunity for Native peoples to have a voice in the entertainment space increases, more stories will come to light. Although some people will be content to plug their ears or bury their heads in the sand, that doesn’t change history. No matter what you want to believe, you cannot understand the formation of the United States as we know it today without first reckoning with and understanding the sins it was formed through.

[Jade Bahr]

So KOTFM will be Leos first financial "debacle" (lol) in... 13 years?

 

At least it was very profitable for Leo LOL

 

Apple’s $44 Million Open For ‘Killers Of The Flower Moon’ May Not Matter

 

You may have missed it this past weekend, but a little art film hit theaters, telling a little-known but painfully true story about white people being horrible to indigenous people, again. It was hailed as a hit after hauling in $23.2 million domestically over the weekend, and $44 million worldwide.

 

That's a solid opening for a limited-release film grappling with a challenging subject, especially given the problems theaters are facing since the pandemic. It's even heart-warming to think how an up-and-coming director has connected with the movie-going public through his complex, deeply crafted work illuminating an important story.

 

Except, of course, that Killers of the Flower Moon is anything but a little art film, and its 80-year-old director Martin Scorsese is no up-and-coming auteur. He’s made some of the last half century’s most celebrated movies, from Taxi Driver to Raging Bull, Goodfellas to Casino, The Departed to Wolf of Wall Street.

 

So it was a success, right? Well, not really, at least under the standard calculus of Hollywood theatrical releases.

 

In fact, if Killers had come from a traditional Hollywood studio, like almost all of Scorsese’s previous projects (Netflix distributed his last epic, The Irishman), and had an opening weekend like this one, it would almost certainly be regarded as a financial debacle. Studio executives likely would blame the poor economic climate, the industry’s strikes and post-pandemic hangover, or some other gremlin (when in doubt, blame marketing), as they prepared to write off a nine-figure sum, and likely the company’s entire quarter.

 

That’s because Killers cost a widely reported $200 million to produce, 10 times the budget of even a relatively well-funded arthouse film. And marketing from Apple and Paramount PARA -1.8%, which Apple is paying to distribute the film in theaters, likely will top another $100 million, given its wide release in more than 3,600 U.S. theaters.

 

Killers will be challenged to have a profitable run in theaters. There’s that expansive length, 3 hours and 26 minutes, which makes it difficult for theaters to run more than one showing in an evening, instead of two or more with a shorter project.

 

And the day-to-day dropoff in box office isn’t promising either. From Friday to Saturday, domestic grosses dropped 13%, and from Saturday to Sunday, it fell another 30%. So much for positive word of mouth on social media. There’s even the distribution fee Apple is paying Paramount, which eats further into Apple’s share of box office.

 

It’s true that the film was warmly received by those who did see it. By the calculations of BoxOfficeMojo, Killers had the 42nd-best opening weekend of all time among R-rated films, and the 53rd-best such weekend of any October release. Rotten Tomatoes’ survey of critics gave it a 92% “fresh” rating; the audience scores were nearly as good, at 85% from more than 1,000 people.

 

It’s absolutely Apple’s biggest awards contender in this strike-addled Oscar season. Scorsese personally has 14 previous Oscar nominations. Though he, puzzlingly, won only one of those previous nominations, on The Departed, his films have attracted plenty of other awards and nominations too, and will almost certainly get a houseful of nominations again this time.

 

And that matters for Apple’s obvious quality-over-quantity strategy, relying on awards and critical praise to communicate value for TV+. More awards equal more subscribers, especially for a company that’s always made its mass-market products premium experiences with premium prices.

 

But it's hard to see the box office haul for Killers as an achievement. Apple and Paramount gave Killers the 50th-widest release of any R-rated film ever, on 3,618 screens, according to BoxOfficeMojo. Basically, if people wanted to see Killers, it was available on a nearby screen. That wide release translated to a per-screen average, that other measure of art-film success, of $5,216. In art-film terms, that’s kinda meh.

 

But ask an industry analyst what all this means for Apple, as I did Tuesday at a conference on streaming video advertising on the Warner Bros. Discovery lot in Burbank, Calif., and they scoff about whether it means anything at all.

 

One analyst shared in conversation that Killers’ nice but hardly huge opening weekend isn’t a loss for Apple until it says so. And if ever Apple decides something like Killers is actually an issue, traditional Hollywood media companies better look out.

 

As the analyst noted, Apple reported $111.4 billion in free cash flow last year, has a market capitalization of $2.7 trillion, and is one of the world’s most valuable companies. Selling literal boatloads of iPhones (232 million last year) gives the company some considerable leeway when side hobbies like a streaming service hit a speed bump.

 

It’s just harder to figure out what Apple is doing with TV+.

 

It’s not like CEO Tim Cook was in the room Tuesday with other media company CEOs in restarted negotiations with the striking actors of SAG-AFTRA. TV+ just matters a lot less to Apple than, say, Disney+ does to Disney’s stumbling fortunes (and Disney CEO Bob Iger was in on the strike negotiations).

 

True, Apple TV+, has had some undeniable successes, like Ted Lasso’s two Outstanding Comedy Emmys, and CODA’s Best Picture Oscar. Series such as The Morning Show, Severance, For All Mankind, Foundation, Silo and Shrinking have gotten critical and pop-cultural notice.

 

The service’s library, however, remains painfully thin, despite four years of notoriously heavy spending on originals and acquisitions. That library looks particularly underfed compared to competing services from Hollywood media companies that have been making movies and TV shows for a century. Even fellow tech giant Amazon buffed up Prime Video, spending $8.5 billion on MGM and its vast library of film and TV.

 

Apple has generally declined to lay out a business case for Apple TV+, other than make it part of the Apple One bundle of services that it sells. Apple One also includes, at its beefiest, the iCloud backup service, Apple Music, the Apple Arcade game service, Apple News+, and Fitness+ as well as TV+. The “premier” tier provides all six services for up to six people, for $32.95 per month (Apple just raised prices on Apple One, TV+ and Arcade on Wednesday).

 

Apple has used the streaming service as part of its long-running strategy to expand its Services division, which includes all the Apple One services plus profitable ventures such as its Apple Care warranties. The company won’t report its latest quarterly results until Nov. 2, but in August, Apple reported Q2 Services revenues of $21.2 billion, thanks to more than 1 billion subscriptions of all kinds.

 

Again, that’s for just the quarter. For perspective, those quarterly revenues equal nearly as much as the entire market capitalization for Warner Bros. Discovery ($24.6 billion).

 

So when we try to evaluate whether a grim, 3.5-hour historical drama from an acknowledged master is a “flop,” it’s important to remember one thing: as long as people keep subscribing to TV+ and Apple One, maybe encouraged because Killers wins an Oscar or two, who cares?

 

It. Just. Doesn’t. Matter. At least until Apple decides it does matter. Then, as that analyst warned me, Hollywood better look out.

 

[Jade Bahr]

For those who wondered after the movie... like me. In short: Ernest also fucked up the life of his living children. What a surprise.

 

What Happened To Mollie & Ernest’s Children After Killers Of The Flower Moon

Killers of the Flower Moon is based on a true story, which means the story continues through Mollie and Ernst’s kids after the movie has finished.

• "Killers of the Flower Moon" tells the true story of the Osage murders while focusing on the Burkharts and their legacy.
• James "Cowboy" Burkhart, son of Ernest and Mollie Burkhart, grew up, married, and had children after the events of the movie.
• Elizabeth Burkhart, the daughter of Ernest and Mollie, remained in Osage and later moved to Fairfax, but little is known about her fate.

 

Martin Scorsese's Killers of the Flower Moon tells the true story of a series of murders in the Osage Nation of Oklahoma during the 1920s, specifically through the lens of Ernest and Mollie Burkhart, and although the movie ends in one particular way, the story actually continues in real life through the Burkharts' children. Killers of the Flower Moon is famed director Martin Scorsese's most recent release. It is based on the 2017 book of the same name, written by David Grann, and stars Leonardo DiCaprio, Lily Gladstone, Jesse Plemmons, and Robert De Niro.

 

While Killers of the Flower Moon focuses heavily on the Burkharts' roles in the Osage murders, the movie acknowledges the family they built over time. During the span of the film, Ernest and Mollie fall in love and have three children together. Though not much is seen of these children, they definitely impact Ernest's actions throughout the film. For example, when one of their children dies of whooping cough, Ernest is moved to testify in court. Ultimately, though Killers of the Flower Moon eventually ends, the legacy of the Burkharts and their story continues on through what happened to Mollie Burkhart and her children, James 'Cowboy' Burkhart and Elizabeth Burkhart.

 

What Happened To James 'Cowboy' Burkhart After Killers Of The Flower Moon

 

Ernest and Mollie Burkhart's son James Burkhart grew up and started a family after the end of Killers of the Flower Moon. According to an article by The Washington Post, James, who went by the nickname "Cowboy," married and had two daughters, Doris and Margie. Although James was a loving father and a kind man, he had a quick temper that could make him erratic and violent. Of her father, Margie said, "He was a complicated man." James was also a long-time alcoholic. Often, he would drink to such excess that his young daughters would have to drive home from the bar, one working the pedals and the other steering.

 

Ultimately, James' vices and shortcomings came as a result of what his family faced when he was a child. At just 9 years old, James' father Ernest went to prison for conspiring to kill members of the Osage nation in order to steal their oil. This was not just a traumatizing betrayal, but led to James and his family being ostracized by the Osage. The Burkharts were never the same after Ernest's sentencing, and this led to James' predilection for alcohol and fighting. According to Margie, James could never quite forgive his father for what he did.

 

What Happened To Elizabeth Burkhart After Killers Of The Flower Moon

 

Unlike her brother James, not much is known about the fate of Elizabeth Burkhart. James' daughter Margie mentions Elizabeth in The Washington Post, referring to her as aunt Liz, but nothing else is explored about the Burkharts' daughter. It seems that Elizabeth remained in Osage, Oklahoma after the events of Killers of the Flower Moon, and later, moved to a town called Fairfax in 1940. She also married a man named Claude Henry Shafer. It is unclear whether Elizabeth had children, and her date of death in unconfirmed. However, it can be assumed that, like James, Elizabeth was deeply impacted by the events of Killers of the Flower Moon.

[Jade Bahr]

I disagree. They are both terrible human beings no doubt but at least Candie never made a secret of his evilness while Ernest hided his true face behind a mask of pretended love and careness (well at least in the movie). The proverbial wolf in sheep's clothing. When he reveals his true face it's already too late. The worst of all enemies in my book.

 

[Jade Bahr]

Leo DuckCaprio back in LA 

 

 

[akatosh]

43 minutes ago, Jade Bahr said:

I disagree. They are both terrible human beings no doubt but at least Candie never made a secret of his evilness while Ernest hided his true face behind a mask of pretended love and careness (well at least in the movie). The proverbial wolf in sheep's clothing. When he reveals his true face it's already too late. The worst of all enemies in my book.

 

Ernest at least showed some remorse. Calvin was completely evil. They are both evil but I think Calvin wins here.

 

2 minutes ago, Jade Bahr said:

 

 

So funny.😄 Leo thinks he can just walk like this and nobody will recognize him. But they always recognize him.

[Jade Bahr]

41 minutes ago, akatosh said:

Ernest at least showed some remorse. Calvin was completely evil. They are both evil but I think Calvin wins here.

Well to be fair Calvin was killed in the middle of his evilness. He never really got the chance nor time to regret anything.

 

If devils survive they mostly regret their bad doings at some point just like King Louis in TMITIM another anti human character of Leo.

 

[Jade Bahr]