“You keep dancing with the devil... one day he's gonna follow you home.”
HEAD ARRANGEMENT
No doubt about it, Sinners is an absolute scorcher – a spooky, sweaty jam session as smart as it is soulful. Sinners has a lot to say — and it’s not shy about saying it, though often it is quite subtle — but Ryan Coogler is never less than a saint when it comes to the Golden Rule of getting those deeper themes across in a vampire-horror blockbuster: Thou shalt always keep it cool as fucking possible.
There are big ideas in Sinners and plenty of them – obvious ones like the violent and tragic history of the Black experience in America (especially the Jim Crow South) and the infiltration and co-optation of Black culture by predatory outsiders — but also subtler ones like the primal power in music and storytelling (like cinema too) that offers the possibility of a communion with a transcendent humanity across time and space even as it also threatens with its wildness and the dangerously seductive lure of its very potency, or the underrepresented “double victimization” of Black soldiers returning from WWI.
But Coogler never lets those big ideas get out ahead of the main thing he’s here to do: let it absolutely fucking rip telling a simple, stripped down story about bootleggers and bluesmen fighting vampires through one sweltering, Mississippi Delta night.
And Sinners isn’t just about blues music – it is a blues piece itself in form and style. Sinners is wildly creative, but Coogler isn’t much concerned with originality in any way. Instead, like a great blues tune, Sinners draws its power and soulfulness from taking a fairly simple, familiar framework to get you into its groove – and then, once the tune is going and framework established…then it’s time to cut loose and play. And brother, when it comes time for his solo, boy oh boy can Ryan Coogler fucking play.
The plot is a pretty basic riff: Bootlegger twins The SmokeStack Brothers — Michael B. Jordan taking his shot at playing dual roles (and crushing it) — return after serving in WWI and then making their bloody fortune in the Chicago Gangland wars of the Prohibition Era to their Mississippi Delta hometown with plans to open a juke joint as “a place of their own” for local Black sharecroppers to drink away their troubles and listen to the blues. And to play those blues, the Twins recruit their young cousin, Preacher Boy, who’s learned to play a mighty mean guitar since the Twins have been away. Such a mean guitar, in fact, that his burgeoning musical power has attracted the attention of dark forces that want to possess that power for their own and come to lay siege to the juke on opening night.
IN THE TRENCHES
But within that basic template remains an infinity’s worth of room to play — where the familiar structural framework might constrain the film in breadth, Coogler is making up for it with depth in detail to an almost unbelievable degree. He works in an incredible wealth of meaning and resonance through seemingly minor details without ever particularly calling attention to them or allowing them to detract from the movement of plot. The previously mentioned theme of Black American soldiers’ experience returning from WWI is a perfect example — it’s barely ever directly addressed, but rather emerges entirely by implication through seemingly minor “flavor text” type bits of dialogue and carefully chosen textural details. It’s the proof-in-the-pudding of what a truly unbelievable level Coogler is operating at in Sinners because follow this:
Based on the way Smoke and Stack refer to the intensity of the combat they saw in France and Germany, it’s quite heavily implied that the Twins served with the 369th Infantry — A.K.A “The Harlem Hellfighters,” a storied Black regiment that saw some of the hardest and bloodiest fighting in the entire war during the climactic push to finally break German trench lines in 1917-18 and was one of the first Allied units to cross the Rhine and enter Germany territory1. Besides the hints at this service record gleaned from dialogue references, Coogler also strongly alludes to it in visual touches like the type of knife Stack wields:
The choice on Coogler’s part for Stack to carry this “knuckle-duster” design isn’t just because it looks badass — that style was U.S. military issue to front-line trench fighters (the knuckle-guards are for punching, but their primary purpose is to keep soldiers from losing their weapon in intense close-quarters combat when hands get slippery with blood), and that makes this style of knife a bit of a Hellfighters’ signature. The fact that Stack carries this type of knife as a confirmed WW1 combat veteran not only serves to make this connection seem fairly overt, but also instantly speaks to the kind of terrible things Stack has seen and done to come home alive with that kind of knife.
But that’s not even where it stops, because what’s also highly relevant about the 369th to Sinners is that the unit is equally, perhaps even more renowned for its importance to musical history — it was the accompanying Hellfighters Regimental Band that introduced Europe to that somewhat important Black musical style emerging at that time…called “jazz.” An introduction of white people to Black culture which, I certainly hope you are aware, has had some unfortunate repercussions over the subsequent decades as well.
And, when I mentioned the “double victimization” of these soldiers, I am referring to the type of situations in which the outrages and exploitation suffered by a particular group at the hands of their supposed allies and/or countrymen is as bad if not worse than what that same group suffers at the hands of declared enemies. Black American soldiers in WW1 were sent abroad to experience the unfathomable horrors of the worst combat modern warfare had to offer while fighting for a cause to which they had no innate connection and in the service of a country that, at best, took no concern in their interests and at worst didn’t even regard them as human beings.
Stack’s devil-may-care hedonism and Smoke’s hard-hearted cynicism appear as two opposite pole reactions to the bitterness felt by Black soldiers returning home from the terrors of war only to be asked to submit once more to the indignity of legal oppression and the racial terrorism of Klan violence. And the Twins become outlaws not just because they enjoy the luxury and respect afforded by the lifestyle (although, they certainly do), but because they have genuine contempt for the so-called “laws” of their unworthy nation. They have seen the world’s true face and know that it is nothing but power and bloodshed all the way down — all money is blood money, the only true law is that which can be enforced by superior violence.
Some of this comes through subtle touches in dialogue, but ready to see what an unreal level this movie goes to with this kind of stuff? Coogler communicates essentially every single bit of this history and sketches out the thematic resonances in this story — without calling any specific attention to it but just having it present for an engaged observer to find if they wish — in less than a minute of on-screen action. Go ahead and take a little look at the regimental emblem of the 369th Infantry:
Yep, that’s a rattlesnake. In fact, while the 369th were known to Americans as the Hellfighters, to the French, they were “The Black Rattlers.” And, oh hey, what is one of the very first things we see the Twins do in the film to set their “outlaw” character for us?
Is it: kill a rattlesnake (the official symbol of their military service to the country that despises them) that is hidden among the literal baggage they brought home from their battles and do it with the very weapon issued to them by the state as a symbol of the capability for violence it instilled in them?
Yeah, that is exactly what happens. Because Ryan Coogler is seriously not playing around here, you guys. He has come to tear this thing the fuck up, and he’s going to do it in every last choice that goes on screen, and everyone is just gonna have to keep up as much they can.
SOLO
And for its first act or so, Sinners is excellent – beautiful, effectively told, charismatic and confident in its every move.
But then…then comes The Scene.
And you will know when it arrives, because when Ryan Coogler finally lets fully loose and reveals what truly diabolical jet fuel he has come to cook with, it is unlike anything you have ever seen in a movie of this kind before – a scene so completely electric, compelling and creatively vital that it grabs you by your very DNA and leaves room for nothing other than simply: “This is what cinema was made for.”
But in its primal transcendence, that scene is proof that you don’t need to invent a whole new instrument or a whole new form every single time to make something that gets people jumping out of their seats. Coogler plays the Vampire Horror instrument like a dusty old blues guitar – it’s only got so many strings, those strings only make the certain sounds they do, and there’s only so many combos they really work together in…but in the hands of a real player, there’s no limit to the music you can make with that one instrument.
In fact, the limitations are actually part of what makes the music so deeply felt. Just like blues music, Sinners relies on something like cinematic call-and-response – the audience can feel this shit because they have a sense for its rhythm, they know instinctively in most cases what’s generally supposed to come next. And when that tension resolves and the call is met with its correct response, it’s really pleasurable, but there’s also thrills and terrors in the moments when the artist suddenly does something new and unexpected within that familiar structure. But because the structure is there, there’s hardly ambiguity on whether an improvisation works or not – if a note is off-key, wrong for the structure, you can tell instantly. So when it’s right…goddamn can you feel how much it works.
And that’s Sinners right down to its roots. Generally speaking, there’s not any particular element of Sinners that’s completely new or innovative in any way. The basic plot is just From Dusk til Dawn transplanted into the Prohibition Era South; Smoke and Stack are recognizable character archetypes both as individuals – Smoke the “Soldier Boy” burying grief in hardness, Stack the wounded romantic hiding behind swagger and braggadocio – and also as a pair – outlaw brothers in the vein of the Kray twins, the James boys, or the Dukes of Hazard. Many of the individual beats throughout the night of siege too are recognizable riffs from other films, both specifically vampire horror and otherwise – obviously From Dusk til Dawn and The Faculty (the two films Coogler has specifically cited as influences), but also stuff like Blade, Prince of Darkness, The Thing and even from stuff as seemingly far afield as O Brother, Where Art Thou?.2
And while the vampires themselves may be unique in some of their motivation, Coogler has no intention of wasting our time trying to show off by coming up with some galaxy-brain new explanation of what vampires are or the mechanics of how they work in a film – these are Vampire Classic: seductive, blood-drinking fiends, unable to enter a dwelling without permission and weak to garlic, silver and stakes through the heart. Coogler’s using the basic, best known rules so he can skip the boring, noodly “lore” stuff and go straight to the good shit of character work, scares, and the funk prevailing.
But what makes Sinners rock is that not only is it unafraid to wear its influences on its sleeve, it’s completely unabashed to simply be the sum of those influences. Old stories told well are usually far more soulful than the pursuit of originality for its own sake. And, as becomes apparent from That Scene, Coogler is pretty clear that’s what he’s saying here. Art is not about being the isolated genius, it’s about becoming part of that ongoing artistic continuum that unites humanity across all times and divisions. We appreciate the truly original artistic innovation, but it’s not what makes people get up and move. We move when we feel connected – when we feel that communion with what has come before and what will come after that only arises from that which takes part in our common tradition. Sinners is great because it’s unoriginal, and Ryan Coogler wants you to know that.
“Sharp as possible”
But none of this high falutin’ stuff is ever spelled out because Coogler is also smart and tasteful and always keeps in sight that priority A1 is being cool. And Sinners rips on every front in that regard. Obviously, most special mention has to go to Ludwig Goransson’s music — it’s the heart of the film, one of the most outrageous bangers of a soundtrack in living memory, and pretty much puts paid to any idea of Goransson being less than the very best composer of music for film working today and rapidly approaching being among the best of all time, period.
And, with one exception, everyone in the cast kills it. Michael B. Jordan is an absolute force as the SmokeStack Twins, in part because Coogler knows down to an almost cellular level exactly how to deploy his avatar. The subtle brilliance of Jordan’s work is to craft two distinct characters for Smoke and Stack that nevertheless feel believably rooted in these guys being twins who share the bulk of their experiences with only minute variations becoming magnified over time. And Jordan commands the screen like few other actors today. He’s goofing it up a little bit especially with Stack, but he’s just so utterly in control of every aspect of his instrument as an actor – expressions, movements, and especially his reactions to other actors – that you can barely take your eyes off him when he’s in frame.
The supporting cast are equally brilliant. Delroy Lindo gives a wonderful turn as battered old bluesman Delta Slim. He’s wickedly funny about 75% of the time, but then he’ll cross you up with moments of such raw emotional force it takes your breath away. There’s a moment in the first act where Slim is asked to recount a story that ends in the brutal lynching of a former friend and musical partner and is so overwhelmed by the pain of this memory that he does the only thing he can do – he starts singing the blues. And again, in one lights-out punch, Lindo and Coogler basically hit you with everything you need to know about what blues music really is and where it comes from. It’s an unbelievably potent moment of cinema.
Wunmi Mosaku has built herself a pretty strong body of work, but Sinners represents a major stepping to center stage for her. She’s superb and deeply emotive as root magic practitioner (and, even more critically, catfish fry expert) Annie, Smoke’s erstwhile partner. And Jack O’Connell is a total blast as riverdancing vampiric Pied Piper Remmick. The fact that the vampires try to disguise their thirst for new victims under the aegis of welcoming all into a “family” of peace and equality isn’t totally a new idea, but placed in conversation with the very real Black anxiety around infiltration of their community by outsiders and potential agents of the Klan, it takes on a new dimension of sinister resonance – and also seduction. Because Remmick doesn’t just come offering belonging — killers of men themselves, the Twins can see that what Remmick offers is also power. And the presentation of the vampires as corny-ass white people doing Mumford and Sons busking and begging to be let into the cool Black juke joint before the masks slowly start coming off to reveal the blood-sucking beasts beneath…well, sometimes metaphors are supposed to be heavy-handed. Heavy hands punch hard.
But the true revelation in Sinners is Miles Caton, as burgeoning blues phenom Sammie “Preacher Boy” Moore. Caton is a hell of an actor and nails Preacher Boy’s combination of teenage earnestness and longing for something more than the life of a rural sharecropper. He’s a natural on screen. But oh my goodness, when he starts to sing…that voice. The reaction Michael B. Jordan does as Stack when Preacher Boy starts singing in the car is the exact reaction of every person in every theater watching this movie – “Hoooooooo boy, can this kid sing!”
Unfortunately, there is that one exception to the cross-the-board excellence of the cast…and that is Hailee Steinfeld. I’m sorry, but Steinfeld is just not a very good actor. She is giving it nothing less than her all – the effort is unimpeachable and she’s very game for some fun stuff – but she just doesn’t have the juice. A lot of her line reads sound painfully self-conscious, like a high school theater kid who just doesn’t have that innate ability to become a character. There are some clever meta and structural reasons that Coogler chose Steinfeld for this particular role it seems, and it’s hard to fault the logic there, but it would have been better just to do some writing tweaks, I think. Some people have it, some people don’t – it’s not fair, but it’s just the way it goes. And Steinfeld doesn’t have it.
Sinners also has some beautiful and very interesting work in its cinematography. Coogler is riding the wave begun by films like Oppenheimer and The Brutalist that have reminded audiences that one of the most special things about movies – and one of the best draws to get audiences to actually come to a theater to experience it – is cinema’s ability to be big as fuck. The 65mm stock creates an epically huge, classic widescreen canvas for Coogler and DP Autumn Durald Arkapaw to paint within, and although the number of locations is limited, they fill them with vibrant movement and light and texture.
There’s a deeper conversation to be had on this by better experts on the subject, but given the ongoing discussion over recent years about the frequent deficiencies in filmmakers’ ability to light and shoot Black skin properly, I found the choices Coogler and Arkapaw made in that regard extremely interesting to consider and potentially learn from. Instead of the frequent tendency to use a lot of very white-blue lighting to reflect and “sculpt” Black features on screen, Coogler and Arkapaw seem to deliberately do the opposite – grading towards the yellow end of the spectrum to capture the heat of the Mississippi Delta and lighting and exposing in a way that lends an almost chiaroscuro quality to Black skin under the sunlight. It’s not until night falls and the juke joint opens that what Coogler and Arkapaw is really doing becomes clear though. Because while this quality in bright sunlight throws Black characters into such high contrast that things teeter on the edge of looking blown-out, underneath the softer lights of the juke and in the place they feel most at home, the full richness and beauty of all the characters becomes manifest. Which seems like a pretty genius visual concept to make the juke joint feel like the special “place of our own” in contrast to the harshness of the outside world that the characters feel it as.
All this depth and care and richness in filmmaking texture in a movie still throwing absolute stand-up-and-cheer haymakers of “Hell Yeah!” cinema pleasure makes for a wildly entertaining time at the theater. Sinners is a crowd-pleaser, a banger, a total blast — and it’s also smart and self-aware and meaningful and constructed with consummate craftsmanship at every level. Ryan Coogler is the master at using populist entertainment as a vehicle for weaving complex and urgent ideas amid thunderous statements of directorial intent. He’s one of the very best doing it today, and Sinners is unequivocally his best work so far.
It’s a devil you very much want to dance with…and let follow you home.
The gamers among you may recognize the Hellfighters from Battlefield 1 (the Battlefield series’ WWI game) — soldiers from the unit featured prominently in the game’s trailer and in-game cinematics.
Irish folk really is the devil’s own music, isn’t it? But, I’m gonna be real with you guys…I extremely fuck with that shit too because there is more than enough honky white devil in me for it to speak to very directly. “Will Ye Go, Lassie Go?” is honestly the tune from the film I’ve caught myself whistling around the house. What can I say? I’m sorry for party rocking to Irish reels…
Thanks for the thoughtful deep-dive into this awesome and radical new movie. I agree with everything you said. *That one scene* is such a beautiful visualization of art’s ability to converge past and future into the present moment. My one lil script issue was wtf happened to the Native American vampire hunters? For a movie so in control of everything, that was a weird thing to set up without any payoff. Otherwise tho an absolutely controlled and ambitious banger!
Wow! Your review was so in-depth and overall a very interesting read, Chapeau!