Oct 23, 2023Liked by Sarah Welch-Larson, Kevin McLenithan
Terrific analysis, Kevin. I appreciate that we are given the explanation by DeNiro's character early in the film about the power of the Osage's knowledge and communication when they are silent. Though he is the central villain in the story, he is also one of the most clear-eyed about the situation. (See also his jailhouse prophecy late in the film about how this series of outrageous evils will be received by the culture.) Molly's choices of when to stay silent in conversation are her most powerful moments of truth-telling, such as the confrontation between her and Earnest over the administering of her insulin.
The moment when (spoiler, I guess) Scorsese himself appears onscreen was absolutely stunning to me. He put himself as the "writer/director/filmmaker/auteur" of this film in the midst of a completely inadequate and very white telling of the story. It seemed to me as well a confessional that acknowledges that though he is the one privileged or powerful enough to tell the story today, he stands in a tradition that is connected to a long history of white tellings of Native stories, both onscreen in films that he grew up loving, and in other arenas. He has to acknowledge that, and putting himself onscreen is the only way to do that in a way that can ironically decenter him and turn our focus back to the Native people. And so (once again, without words) the Osage get the final screen image and sounds after this confessional denouement in their tribal dance and song.
It's a beautiful work that is masterful without the least showy as in earlier films. Just a quiet confidence in the filmmaking team that has a lifetime of making masterpieces behind them, from Jack Fisk to Thelma Schoonmaker to Rodrigo Prieto to the old pals DeNiro and Scorsese themselves.
Terrific analysis, Kevin. I appreciate that we are given the explanation by DeNiro's character early in the film about the power of the Osage's knowledge and communication when they are silent. Though he is the central villain in the story, he is also one of the most clear-eyed about the situation. (See also his jailhouse prophecy late in the film about how this series of outrageous evils will be received by the culture.) Molly's choices of when to stay silent in conversation are her most powerful moments of truth-telling, such as the confrontation between her and Earnest over the administering of her insulin.
The moment when (spoiler, I guess) Scorsese himself appears onscreen was absolutely stunning to me. He put himself as the "writer/director/filmmaker/auteur" of this film in the midst of a completely inadequate and very white telling of the story. It seemed to me as well a confessional that acknowledges that though he is the one privileged or powerful enough to tell the story today, he stands in a tradition that is connected to a long history of white tellings of Native stories, both onscreen in films that he grew up loving, and in other arenas. He has to acknowledge that, and putting himself onscreen is the only way to do that in a way that can ironically decenter him and turn our focus back to the Native people. And so (once again, without words) the Osage get the final screen image and sounds after this confessional denouement in their tribal dance and song.
It's a beautiful work that is masterful without the least showy as in earlier films. Just a quiet confidence in the filmmaking team that has a lifetime of making masterpieces behind them, from Jack Fisk to Thelma Schoonmaker to Rodrigo Prieto to the old pals DeNiro and Scorsese themselves.
Thanks, Joshua! Big yes to your observation about how Scorsese uses what is unsaid as much as what is said.