Film Reviews

April 18, 2025

"Sinners" is fierce, compelling and alive, an action-horror-drama extravaganza with lots of rhythm, soul, music, and a heart that never stops beating, as well as copious amounts of blood and gore. Sure, much of it feels mainstream and familiar, and it takes some turns that are more crowd-pleasing than imaginative, but overall, it's slick and bold, a big-budget enterprise that wants to challenge and excite us, and it succeeds sensationally on both counts.

Perhaps the most striking quality of this unique period piece is the distinct atmosphere director Ryan Coogler and his team establish early on and continuously recharge. Every frame is breathing, and even during scenes of deep sadness and reflection, or obvious plot exposition, we can feel the film's pulse, which speaks to how in tune and in love Coogler must have been with the ideas, characters, and era he wanted to invoke. Despite its dark and disturbing content, there's a palpable enthusiasm for the execution of realizing it, a passion Coogler first hinted he possessed with "Fruitvale Station" (2013).

Like the tragic "Fruitvale," and Coogler's first two "Creed" films (not to mention the "Black Panther" movies), "Sinners" stars Michael B. Jordan, in a terrific performance. He does double-duty playing twin brothers Smoke and Stack, a couple of smooth-talking charmers and ambitious businessmen, whose salty language and witty banter infuse some modern-day sensibilities into Coogler's screenplay, which takes place in 1932 Mississippi, when Smoke and Stack have ventured back to the Delta where they grew up.

The brothers left the deeply segregated South years ago to work for, and then steal from, Al Capone in Chicago, but now they have their minds set on opening a juke joint in an abandoned sawmill, which they purchased from Hogwood (David Maldonado), who, ironically, is head of the local Ku Klux Klan faction. Both Stack and Smoke--the former is the bigger player and ladies man of the two while the former is more rational and even-keeled--imagine their joint will be a place where Black folks can come together, eat and drink, dance and socialize, and let their guard down on the ceaseless white supremacy and gaze that presses down on them.

Smoke and Stack quickly enlist the locals as staff and talent, beginning with their cousin Sammie (Miles Caton), who, despite being young, can play a mean guitar and sing the blues like a seasoned pro. Sammie's father Jedidiah (Saul Williams), a pastor, naturally disapproves, and he's not the only one who looks upon the brothers with disdain. Stack's former lover, Mary (Hailee Steinfeld), who's biracial (her father's white genes allow her to pass as Caucasian), publicly scolds him because he never bothered to contact her after he and Smoke returned home from World War I. Nevertheless, her eyes turn toward Sammie and his youthful innocence, although Sammie is already smitten with Pearline (Jayme Lawson), who's married and advises the lad, "Careful boy, you going to bite off more than you can chew." Also down with the new join are Delta Slim (Delroy Lindo), with his sharp piano skills; the towering Cornbread (Omar Benson Miller) as the club's bouncer; and Grace and Bo Chow (Li Jun Li and Yao), a Chinese wife and husband team who own a local supermarket.

Meanwhile, Smoke reunites with his estranged wife, Annie (Wunmi Mosaku), who has been practicing Hoodoo and selling herbs, roots, and potions on the side. Smoke doesn't buy into any of this magic nonsense, but Annie is convinced it's kept Smoke and Stack alive all this time, even if it didn't do the same for her and Smoke's daughter, who died seven years earlier. Annie has mixed feelings about the brothers' new endeavor, but because she still loves her husband, she's onboard, and as the town's reliable "conjure woman," her knowledge of the occult will prove invaluable.

If you've seen the trailers for "Sinners," then you know it's more than just a story about African Americans wanting to carve out a social space of their own and fend off the disgust of racism. *SPOILER ALERT* It's also a supernatural horror thriller about an Irish vampire named Remmick (Jack O'Connell) who descends upon the Southern community, starts biting and "turning" the locals, and builds a demon army. What's interesting about the centuries-old Remmick is that, even though he's white, he's more biased against other whites, specifically members of the KKK. In fact, he's entranced, just as we are, by Sammie's music and its community-building capabilities, which is why he calmly asks the twins to invite him into their fine establishment. This is just one of the ways the movie subscribes to classic vampire conventions (one of which is that vampires must be invited in), along with their being hindered by garlic; killed by sunlight or a wooden stake to the heart; and possessing an insatiable appetite for blood. Even though we know these rules well, they seem fitting for a movie that takes place in 1930s Mississippi.

Luckily "Sinners" doesn't get too preoccupied with its vampire lore or the ensuing blood-sucking action and gory mayhem (of which there is plenty) that it loses its cerebral, social commentary, and emotional edge. The strength and beauty of this film comes from Coogler and his team prioritizing and peeling back the complexities of the characters, including their tenuous situations; their painful histories; their assets and flaws; and their wounded yet loving relationships.

What's more is that the film doesn't just focus on the ugly and dark sides of history and human nature. "Sinners" is just as eager to illustrate people being resilient and coming together in harmony and celebrating their roots, bodies, sexualities, and talents, and specifically for these characters, using systemic racism and Jim Crow laws to their advantage. Simply watching the predominantly Black characters talk, plan, strategize, dance, and sing, and then to become the envy of whites, gives "Sinners" a richness and confidence that's difficult to articulate. Perhaps the best way to describe it is that it's magnetic, and even if we might not always know why, we know that it is.

Along with Coogler and the cast, editor Michael P. Shawver, production designer Hannah Beachler, and cinematographer Autumn Durald Arkapaw deserve a lot of credit for keeping the narrative's many threads moving and for placing us in a space that is bursting with color and texture. "Sinners" seamlessly flows between states of warm conviviality to dark and fiery gruesomeness, and collectively, it all renders like a bizarre dream. This ties in with what will surely be considered the film's most indelible and virtuoso sequence, when it becomes a musical of sorts as Sammie sings and the cameras parades us through generations of different cultures striking poses and performing. The scene is practically a short film unto itself, and it is so moving and hypnotic, it gives us chills. When you combine this scene with the other drama and carnage, it's no wonder "Sinners" is already one of the most revered films of the year. It gives viewers an array of feelings and talking points.

With that being said, for all its dynamism and modern and historical implications, it can be argued "Sinners" takes a somewhat simple and anticipated turn toward its climax and conclusion. Perhaps the filmmakers thought that because they gave us so much to chew on leading up to the three-quarters mark, it would be okay if the final showdown gave our minds and let our minds and bodies rest a little. Don't get me wrong--it's still entertaining and suspenseful, particularly the cross-cutting to and from a bloody hand gripping a guitar, but it would have been more engrossing if the story explored a resolution that didn't boil down to a shootout and more killing. The traditional stylistic choices, such as bullets falling from a gun magazine in slow motion, felt derivative and like a retreat into "been there, done that" territory.

Still, "Sinners" is riveting. It sings and plays proudly and loudly, and most importantly, exquisitely, captivating us with its deliberate overtones and undertones. There's never a moment when our eyes aren't looking and our ears aren't listening intently at what's transpiring on-screen. Coogler and his team have made something special here, an experience that's best shared among a large crowd of people, and if ever there was a time to go to the movies to be reminded of what it means to come together, even if it's to watch humans battling vampires, and to reflect on who we are, that time is now. Indeed, the greatest attribute of “Sinners” is that its effects feel timeless.