Across their five films together, filmmaker Ryan Coogler (Fruitvale Station, both Black Panther movies, and Creed) and actor Michael B. Jordan have elevated each other's work in ways that are plainly visible on screen. They’ve also elevated the various genres they’ve tackled by making one of the greatest superhero movies ever, one of the best sports dramas, and now, with Sinners, one of the most fascinating takes on vampire mythology I’ve ever seen, one that incorporates regional specificity, religious fervor, passionate music elements, and an uncanny sense of history.
Do things get messy in the process? Absolutely. But it’s the kind of mess I can and do absolutely get behind because it’s the result of ambition and a filmmaking skill that is growing with each Coogler/Jordan collaboration (it also helps that the movie was shot in 65mm IMAX and Ultra Panavision 70; I saw it in the closest thing to IMAX the city of Chicago has, and it looked and sounded glorious).
I’m specifically not calling Sinners a horror movies, despite the abundance of blood and gore at times; it’s not a particularly scary film, but I also don’t think it’s trying to be, at least not when it comes to the supernatural threats in the story.
Being set in 1932 Mississippi and featuring a predominantly Black cast, we have a good sense from the jump of what the real threats potentially are. So when we meet twin brothers Smoke and Stack (both played by Jordan) as they are buying a piece of property in their hometown in order to open up a juke joint and the seller is a white guy who claims that the Klan doesn’t exist any longer in that part of the state, we know where the real danger lies. (Even though the KKK is only a small part of the film, its presence and stories about its deeds permeate every frame.)
Over the course of the day that follows, the brothers recruit old friends and family to help them open and run the joint. The two have recently returned from some dirty dealings in Chicago, so the legends about their supposed exploits loom large in the town, making them infamous and people to be feared. One of them even shoots an old friend in the leg for trying to steal beer out of his truck, just to set an example for anyone else thinking about pinching anything from him. The brothers first meet up with their younger cousin Sammie (gifted guitar player and singer Miles Caton), who is promised a spot playing on stage that night, much to the chagrin of his preacher father. They also hire a full-time drunk of an old blues piano man and harmonica player named Delta Slim (Delroy Lindo), who can still play and prefers to get paid in beer.
Then they gather up a cast of helpers, including local store owners Grace and Bo Chow (Li Jun Li and Yao) to supply their store; Smoke’s estranged wife Annie (Wunmi Mosaku) to act as chef (the two have a painful history that is dealt with throughout the film); old friend Corn Bread (Omar Benson Miller) to be their bouncer; and they even run into Stack’s old girlfriend Mary (a fiery Hailee Steinfeld), who shows up at the club later, decidedly unwelcome. While all of this preparation is going on, a drifter named Remmick (Jack O’Connell) arrives at the doorstep of a young couple, who make the mistake of inviting him in (if you don’t invite his type in, they can’t come in).
The joint opens and people come from far and wide. If you need and example of why Sinners is so unique, even when it borrows from works such as From Dusk Till Dawn and HBO’s Lovecraft Country to Walter Hill’s deal-with-the-devil parable Crossroads: there’s a moment when Sammie finally gets to perform his song “I Lied to You” (penned by Coogler’s regular composer Ludwig Göransson and singer/producer Raphael Saadiq), and while he’s singing and roaming through the crowd, the film enters August Wilson territory with visual and audio representations of the ghosts of music past, present and future.
We gets bits of tribal rhythms, Chinese opera, jazz, folk music, funk, DJs, and hip-hop artist, all joining in the song and dipping in for elegant moments of dance. It’s the moment in the movie I can’t wait to go through frame by frame; and it’s a complete flex from Coogler, a swing of immense proportions that works so beautifully in the context of the time and place of this story that it doesn’t even have to make sense. It’s a moment that defines the connective tissue among all music and its ability to lift both the performer and the listener.
And it’s shortly after that that Coogler throws us right back into the horror, almost jarringly, when Remmick shows up at the juke joint with the young couple in tow, hoping to get on stage to play for a spell. They perform a spontaneous bluegrass audition at the front door, which sounds nice, but the brothers reject them for not being a good fit for their place. Instead of simply leaving the grounds, the three roaming singers head to the edge of the property and just start playing, attracting a curious audience who discovers all too quickly that Remmick is a vampire who is turning people into other vampires at an alarming rate.
The rest of the film is a flat-out vampire action movie, where no one’s life is sacred (even some of our favorites) and the throat-ripping is graphic and plentiful. If there’s a part of the film that feels dragged out, it’s the final act, both in the climactic battles between the survivors and the bloodsuckers, as well as a couple different endings, included an amusing extended sequence involving Chicago blues legend Buddy Guy (not playing himself, although he is playing a Chicago blues legend). There’s also a trippy sequence in which the vampires party outside the locked-down juke joint, with Remmick even doing a bit of Irish line dancing, which I’ve never seen a vampire do—and don’t ever need to see it again. But the cinematography from Autumn Durald Arkapaw is stunning and hypnotic, in that moment and throughout Sinners as well.
This is also a film that isn’t afraid to be sexy, sweaty (every moment in the film looks blazing hot), gritty, or wildly stylized to the point where some moments seem to be an idealized version of reality. But as I mentioned, I like the way Coogler swings. Do I care that he wears his influences, messages, and metaphors on the outside, instead of making them subtle? Why should he? That’s never been his style. He’s an in-your-face filmmaker whose boldness and singular voice mesh beautifully with Jordan’s acting style, making them one of the great actor/director teams in history. Sinners has some missteps, but they are easy to move past to get to the stuff that sinks its teeth into you with fervor.
The film is now playing in theaters.
If you enjoyed this post, please consider supporting Third Coast Review’s arts and culture coverage by making a donation. Choose the amount that works best for you, and know it goes directly to support our writers and contributors.