Sinners Review

Many will compare Sinners to From Dusk till Dawn. Where that film had Robert Rodriguez’s signature, Ryan Coogler plays his own tune in Sinners. I say that in more ways than one. People who go into Sinners blind might be surprised to learn that it’s a horror picture. Those expecting a more traditional horror movie will be surprised that Sinners is just as much a musical. Not the kind where characters sporadically break out into show tunes. When music plays such an essential role in a film’s plot, atmosphere, and themes, though, it might as well be a musical. However you’d categorize it, I’m dancing to Coogler’s beat.

The film sets itself in the South during the 1930s. Rock and roll is still a couple of decades away, although the seeds are being planted through the blues. Miles Caton is a contender for breakout actor of the year, playing Sammie Moore. He isn’t the most outgoing man, but give Sammie a guitar and he’ll roar to life. Sammie’s preacher father nonetheless insists that the guitar is an instrument of Satan. The devil isn’t working through Sammie, but a sinister song is echoing across the land. The source is Jack O’Connell as Remmick, a devil in disguise.

In addition to religious allegories, Sinners explores music’s roots in African-American culture. Michael B. Jordan delivers a dual performance as twin brothers Smoke and Stack. Both have made a living in less than honest ways, gaining a reputation. Upon returning home, they seek to start fresh by opening a juke joint. Along with their cousin Sammie, the brothers enlist an older-timer musician named Delta Slim (Delroy Lindo). Their homecoming also brings a couple of old flames back into their lives. Smoke rekindles his relationship with the spiritual Annie (Wunmi Mosaku) while Stack gets hot and heavy with Hailee Steinfeld’s Mary.

Mary is Caucasian, but like Steinfeld in real life, her mixed heritage includes African-American blood. The community accepts Mary as family, although they won’t let any white person in. When Remmick and his followers show up to their juke joint, singing Irish folk tunes, the brothers turn them away. Once Remmick hears the blues, though, he’s hellbent on sinking his teeth in and sucking the music dry. The genre shift to horror isn’t quite as sudden as From Dusk till Dawn. From the opening scene, Sinners hints at a supernatural element. Once it becomes an all-out horror picture, it doesn’t feel random. It feels like a natural progression – even if there’s nothing natural about the villains.

Sinners takes its time getting to the bombastic second act, which isn’t unwelcome. Coogler eases us into this world, making us care about these immensely likable characters and their dynamics. Music infuses the film with soul, making the audience feel as if they’re on the juke joint’s dance floor. When danger inevitably knocks on the door, the heroes aren’t just fighting for their lives. They’re fighting for their music, culture, and right to exist.

It’d be easy to hit the audience over the head with these themes, but Coogler knows how to show rather than tell. Coogler also uses music as a language, getting across what straightforward dialogue can’t. Sinners could’ve settled for being an over-the-top gore fest. While it doesn’t hold back in the bloodshed department, Coogler does for horror what he previously did with Creed and Black Panther: elevating popcorn entertainment to something far more poignant and personal.