Digital painting of a frame from the movie “Sinners” (Vaughan Stout / Digital Art).
(Spoilers Ahead! Tread Carefully!)
I can’t even begin to describe the anomally that is this film.
Any movie fanatic knows the dull ache of walking into their local theater epxecting community, and finding nothing but empty seats. Since COVID, it has been nothing short of a rarity to battle for parking long before the first preview graces the screen. But the second I stepped into the showing room for the late night screening of “Sinners”, a sea of excited faces battling for space looked back at me. Community.
This film was not only an incredibly entertaining take on the somewhat oversaturated market of vampiric horror. Of course we all loved Twilight, but the series (while I adore it) marked the Hollywood, commercial takeover of vampire fiction. It took the star power of a timeless folktale, and relied on that as its sole background, taking away any fear or curiosity associated with the undead creatures of the night. All it took was one Ryan Coogler to remind us why vampires were ever scary in the first place.
Coogler takes us on a ride through Mississipi history in the 30’s. In the state and era of some of the most vile post-slavery treachery in the United States, we follow our powerful black protagonists following dreams of unity and glamour.
Starting with young Sammie, a talented an aspiring blues musician (who’s even more gifted than we could have ever imagined). Miles Caton absolutely bodied his first ever film role as our lead protagonist. Born with soul and a gift so rich he can conjure echoes of his ancestory with his gifted guitar in one hand and his metal slide on the other. He leaps to the opportunity to flee his religious pressures and start a Juke Joint with his newly arrived cousins.
Enter Smoke and Stack, twin brother veterans turned mafia. The twins, having arrived from fleeing mob discourse (caused by yours truly) in Chicago, are played to perfection by the talented Michael B. Jordan. Through the use of seemless editing and CGI, Jordan’s characters take up their own individual space in each scene together as if they were two different entities entirely. Jordan’s roles were done so masterfully that my girlfriend turned to me near the 45 minute mark, stating that Smoke and Stack “look so similar” that she “couldn’t believe they were different actors.” She wasn’t the only viewer taken aback by Jordan’s flawless portrayal of the side-by-sde badasses, as social media was rampant with appraisal for the performance as well as questions regarding a nonexistent “Michael A. Jordan.”
The suave, charismatic Stack takes off with Sammie to acquire extra talent for the Juke Joint. We meet business partners, artists and cooks Bo and Lisa Chow, the alcoholic musician Delta Slim, the and soon-to-be doorman Cornbread. As the group gains momentum and spirit, it eventually threaten to run cold as they run into Stack’s white-passing ex-lover portrayed with the utmost grace by Hailee Steinfeld, Mary (and a very cold conforntation ensues, but she’ll be back). On the other end of the adventure, Smoke’s separate path takes a somber note. The business-minded, smile-not-to-be-seen Smoke visits not only his child’s grave, but also the baby’s mother and his ex-lover, Annie. The hoodoo practitioner and herbalist is recruited to the ragtag group as well, and they better thank themselves that she was.
The thrill of community sweeps up the group of misfits as they prepare for a grand opening, hoping to provide a place for soul, brother and sisterhood, and repreive in the deep South. Though this is no easy feat to begin with in a town overrun by Klansmen and hatred, we see the ice of uncertainty begin to melt as black locals enter the doors in troves, yearning for safety, solidarity, a drink and a dance. The tension between characters builds as the night surges with life and possibility. And then that one scene. If you’ve seen the film, you know which scene I’m referring to.
As Sammie is called to the stage, he introduces himself with a smirk that foreshadows the performance to come. As he strums his guitar, using the slider to get the grit and heart of blues to echo through the eagerly anticipating crowd, he begins to belt Sammie’s original song (and a true original song for the film) “I Lied to You.” With each echoing lyric, and background instrumentals produced by Ludwig Göransson, viewers and characters alike are woven seemlessly with the musical ancestry of the past, present and future. As a beautiful Letterboxd review by Joe A. stated, its a “Magnum Opus type scene. Spirit Awakening type scene. Inspirational, foundational, monumental.” To see the power of music, especially blues its spiritual binding, embodied in a nonstop visual interpretation from the eyes of the talented Ryan Coogler, your jaw will hang agape. And as Sammie’s final stretched note is cut crossfaded by a haunting, soul-tingling electric guitar solo from Göransson, we are reminded again that he produced “Redbone” (say thank you Ludwig Göransson).
Enter antagonist. Remmick, the centuries-old Irish vampire played by Jack O’Connell, masquerades as a clueless wanderer searching for community, drawn to the timeless power of the true human spirit exemplified by Sammie. The chilling calmness in which Remmick approaches the sanctity of the all-black sace that is the Juke Joint, nerves run taut. Something in the back of the viewers’ necks tingle as the soulless, eerie rendition of “Pick Poor Robin Clean” alerts the senses. This is merely the beginning of the end, as identities are revealed, characters are lured. People die. Well, “die.”
I don’t want to give away any more than I have already given, as spoilers are cruel and unusual punishment, but I simply need to talk about this film. And if there was one message to leave with readers, it is that I know films will get written off not only in the horror genre, but especially in the vampire genre. Do yourself a favor and attempt to overlook past grievances, because this film is gorgeous not only from a cinematography and CGI standpoint, but also from its symbols and performances. A complex villian, a phenomenal and prodigious cast, spiritual enlightenment, music in its purest form, conflicted and dynamic protagonists, cultural empowerment and reflection, worldbuilding, significant character attachment and development. I, from the bottom of my heart, believe this was a masterpiece to each and every sense, and you will not be the same person leaving the theater as you were walking in.
This film stands comfortably at a 9/10, but upon my second viewing I expect a full 10/10.
GO OUT AND ENJOY IT!