'Sinners' shows big fangtasia
Ryan Coogler's singular take on the vampire fantasia melds together discordant elements into sinful but fascinating harmonies.
THE BLUES AREN’T THE SAME in Sinners, Ryan Coogler’s soulful foray into period horror, a genre so few people, if at all, would associate with his work. That being said, the film, set against a Southern backdrop so obstinately Jim Crow, is most identifiably his, replete with striking Black imagery and well-observed critiques of America’s racist roots — like if Colson Whitehead wrote a bluesy rendition of Demon Night or Assault on Precinct 13. It’s a blissful detour from his recent IP stints, one that feels like a return to top form but is also far removed from his certifiable best work, Fruitvale Station.
Once again, he links up with his frequent conspirator, Michael B. Jordan, cast in a dual role as entrepreneurial twins, Smoke and Stack, who recently came into dubious wealth from Chicago. The film picks up with the twins returning to their hometown in Mississippi, determined to open up a local juke joint where colored folks can safely inebriate themselves and “feel true freedom.” It’s worth noting that the film is set truly in the early ‘30s, and that doesn’t exist in any pared-down, Disneyfied period where the state isn’t ensnared to unjust segregation laws, and Klansmen infest the town like nether-spawn creatures.
To that end, the twins enlist their friends’ help to spruce up an old sawmill into a proper venue for shuckin’ and jivin’. This includes their younger cousin Sammie (Miles Caton), whose uncommonly gifted strumming is so powerful, Smoke’s estranged wife, Annie (Wunmi Mosaku), who practices hoodoo magic, might just be able to summon devils who are willing to make dance. There’s also Delta Swim, a foulmouthed blues accompanist played by Delroy Lindo, Grace and Bo, a couple of Chinese shopkeepers played by Li Jun Li and Yao, respectively, and Mary, Stack’s white-passing ex played by Hailee Steinfeld.
But here’s the thing: vampires. Seeing the promo for Sinners made me think it was going to be white cone-clad vampires (Klanpires?), but nope. Coogler’s sharp-fanged creatures don’t lust for blood, they yearn for release. “I am your way out,” quips Remmick (Jack O’Connell), an Irish vampire who thinks resigning to immortality will rid anyone of all of life’s torments. Spoiler: it doesn’t. It’s like Paul Mescal telling thirtysomething men you’ll look 10x hotter in 5-inch inseam shorts without the tank-build legs to complement them. Spoiler: it won’t.
The film reaches a literal crescendo during an extended sequence where Sammie quite literally sings the juke-house down. That thing felt momentous and most moving, with each sweep of the camera and swelling of the score it brought up the importance of ownership of one’s cultural identity at a time when it’s constantly under threat of being taken away. It’s magnum opus type-sh*t, and at the risk of sounding hyperbolic, truly a sequence to be studied and remembered.
There’s nothing cursory about that appraisal. This is what I think Hollywood should be. Riveting. Fervent. And original. And as it’s only fitting, other filmmaking luminaries should take cues. Own your films. Shoot it in gorgeous lenses, in all the film formats you fancy. That’s true freedom.
ABOUT THE FILM
🦇 Sinners (2025)
dir. Ryan Coogler | Horror, Thriller, Musical | 🇺🇸Trying to leave their troubled lives behind, twin brothers return to their hometown to start again, only to discover that an even greater evil is waiting to welcome them back.