Killers of the Flower Moon contains almost no traditional action sequences. Martin Scorsese’s 2023 film about the Osage murders is a slow-burn crime drama that prioritizes intimate character moments, dialogue, and psychological tension over spectacle. The violence that does appear—including the devastating car bombing sequence that serves as the film’s emotional climax—unfolds with deliberate pacing, often in long takes that force viewers to sit with the discomfort rather than experience the adrenaline rush typical of action cinema.
For viewers expecting the kinetic energy of a heist film or a spy thriller, Killers of the Flower Moon will disappoint. Instead, Scorsese treats violence as a consequence of greed and obsession, something that emerges from character and circumstance rather than a spectacle to be choreographed. The opening hunting scene, which shows Ernest Burkhart (Leonardo DiCaprio) and other white settlers killing buffalo on Osage land, establishes this approach immediately—it’s framed as casual destruction by men indifferent to what they’re destroying.
Table of Contents
- How Does Scorsese Approach Violence Without Action Choreography?
- The Opening Hunting Sequence and Its Symbolic Weight
- The Car Bombing and How Scorsese Builds to Violence
- Building Tension Through Dialogue and Performance, Not Editing
- The Absence of Traditional Action as a Strategic Choice
- Violence as Consequence, Not Spectacle
- Technical Filmmaking Choices in Depicting Violence
- Frequently Asked Questions
How Does Scorsese Approach Violence Without Action Choreography?
Scorsese abandons the visual grammar of action cinema in Killers of the Flower Moon, instead drawing from the vocabulary of noir and character-driven crime films. Rather than quick cuts, dramatic angles, and musical cues that build excitement, the director holds scenes static, letting them unfold in real time. When violence occurs, it’s often sudden and unglamorous—a gunshot that ends a life, followed by silence and the mundane problem of what to do with a body. This approach creates a different kind of tension than action sequences typically deliver.
The anticipation builds through dialogue and behavioral cues rather than through editing and sound design. When Burkhart and his associates plan the poisoning of Mollie Kyle’s family (played by Lily Gladstone), the scenes depicting their actual execution feel almost anticlimactic—not because they lack impact, but because the emotional and moral weight has already been established through conversation. Comparison: in a traditional action film, the act of murder would be the climax. Here, it’s treated as a footnote to the deeper crime of exploitation.
The Opening Hunting Sequence and Its Symbolic Weight
The film begins not with a murder or a crime, but with a buffalo hunt on the Great Plains. Scorsese films this scene with muted colors and a documentary-like detachment, showing dozens of white settlers shooting buffalo from a distance, with many animals suffering wounded. There is no heroic music. There is no moment of triumph.
The sequence lasts long enough to become uncomfortable, which is precisely the point—it establishes the mindset of men who see the land and its inhabitants, including the Osage people, as resources to be extracted and discarded. This is Scorsese’s answer to the Western action sequence: stripping it of romance and showing it as systematic destruction. Burkhart’s role in this hunt is minor; he’s one of many, which underscores how this violence is normalized and collective rather than the product of individual villainy. The limitation here is that some viewers will find the sequence slow and tedious, potentially missing its thematic purpose entirely. Scorsese is asking audiences to experience a fraction of the boredom and brutality that characterized the actual historical genocide, which is an uncomfortable ask.
The Car Bombing and How Scorsese Builds to Violence
The most dramatic violent sequence in the film is the car bombing that kills Mollie’s mother, Anna Brown. Scorsese doesn’t film this as an explosion—the camera is inside the vehicle, showing Mollie and her mother in conversation before the ignition, then cuts to the aftermath, with the vehicle engulfed in flame and emergency responders arriving. The sequence is shocking precisely because it doesn’t give viewers the visceral satisfaction of seeing the mechanism or the technical details of the bomb. The tension leading to this scene is entirely psychological.
Viewers who have been following Burkhart’s scheme know what’s about to happen, but Mollie doesn’t. Scorsese cuts between Mollie and Burkhart, showing Burkhart’s anxiety as he waits for news, creating a perverse kind of suspense—we’re watching a man worry about whether his murder plot succeeded. This is the closest the film comes to traditional thriller mechanics, yet it still refuses to deliver the cathartic release that usually accompanies action sequences. The explosion is not filmed to be impressive; it’s filmed to be sickening.
Building Tension Through Dialogue and Performance, Not Editing
Where traditional action sequences rely on editing pace to create excitement, Scorsese builds tension in Killers of the Flower Moon through long scenes of conversation and subtle shifts in performance. The scene where Burkhart’s uncle, Tom White (played by Robert De Niro), confronts him about his crimes unfolds almost entirely in a single room, with minimal camera movement. The drama comes from the actors—DiCaprio’s defensive posturing, De Niro’s moral certainty—not from visual pyrotechnics. This approach demands more from viewers and from the actors themselves.
DiCaprio’s performance as Burkhart is internally focused, showing a man’s moral collapse through small choices and rationalizations rather than external action. Comparison: In a typical crime thriller, this scene might be shortened to its confession and confrontation. Scorsese extends it, letting the awkward silences and evasions carry emotional weight. The tradeoff is that this makes the film feel static to viewers accustomed to faster pacing, but it also makes the moral stakes feel more real and personal.
The Absence of Traditional Action as a Strategic Choice
One significant limitation of describing Killers of the Flower Moon as containing “action sequences” is that it sets false expectations. Audiences arriving for thrilling set pieces will feel bored and frustrated. The film is deliberately paced to allow viewers to understand the economic and social systems that enabled the Osage murders, which requires scenes of business dealings, legal maneuvering, and financial scheming—none of which qualify as action in the traditional sense.
Scorsese’s refusal to dramatize this story as an action narrative is also a refusal to simplify it. The actual Osage murders were not the result of a dramatic heist or a climactic shootout; they were the product of bureaucratic greed and systemic indifference. By avoiding action cinema’s visual language, Scorsese forces the film to confront that uncomfortable reality. A warning: viewers seeking a Scorsese film in the vein of Casino or Goodfellas will find Killers of the Flower Moon markedly different, slower, and less overtly entertaining.
Violence as Consequence, Not Spectacle
The violent acts in Killers of the Flower Moon are filmed as consequences of the plot rather than as moments to be celebrated or aestheticized. When poisonings occur, they’re treated as sad facts to be absorbed rather than dramatic high points. When murder happens, it’s shown as something that solves a problem for the perpetrator but does nothing to resolve the moral dimension of the crime.
This represents a significant departure from how violence typically functions in crime films, where acts of violence often carry a weight proportional to their visual importance. A specific example: the death of Mollie’s sister is depicted in a single, almost offhand manner, despite being a crucial plot point. Scorsese doesn’t dwell on it or build it up; he acknowledges it and moves forward, which mirrors how those committing the murders may have experienced it—as transactions rather than tragedies. This approach denies viewers the emotional catharsis that violence in cinema typically provides.
Technical Filmmaking Choices in Depicting Violence
Scorsese’s cinematographer, Rodrigo Prieto, films violence without stylization. Colors remain muted; lighting remains naturalistic; camera movement remains minimal. When the camera does move, it’s motivated by the logic of the scene rather than by a desire to make violence visually dynamic. This technical restraint underscores that these are not heroic or entertaining acts; they are crimes committed by ordinary men motivated by greed and enabled by institutional racism.
The sound design similarly avoids the dramatic cues that typically accompany action sequences. Explosions aren’t scored to be impressive; gunshots aren’t isolated to ring out dramatically. Scorsese allows ambient sound to dominate—voices, wind, the mundane noise of ordinary life—which makes violence feel intrusive rather than thrilling. This choice reflects the film’s central argument: that the systematic murder of the Osage people was treated by those in power as an ordinary business matter, not as a catastrophic moral emergency.
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Frequently Asked Questions
Does Killers of the Flower Moon have any action scenes?
The film contains violent moments—including a car bombing and poisonings—but these are filmed as dramatic consequences rather than action sequences, with minimal editing, choreography, or visual spectacle.
Is this a Scorsese crime thriller like Goodfellas or Casino?
While all three are Scorsese crime films, Killers of the Flower Moon is significantly slower and more deliberately paced, prioritizing historical accuracy and moral weight over entertainment value.
Why does Scorsese avoid traditional action filmmaking in this story?
The Osage murders were not the product of dramatic confrontations or spectacular crimes but of systematic greed and institutional racism; action cinema would simplify and distort that reality.
How long are the violent sequences in the film?
Most violent sequences are brief and filmed in long takes without dramatic editing, forcing viewers to sit with discomfort rather than experience cathartic release.
What kind of pacing should viewers expect?
The film is deliberately slow, with extended scenes of dialogue, business dealings, and character interaction; it’s built for patience and reflection rather than excitement.
