Sinners

by Mike McGranaghan

Sinners is Ryan Coogler’s take on the old story about the blues musician and the devil. The Black Panther director wades into horror territory this time, although he’s got far more on his mind than cheap scares and gore effects. In fact, the horror element doesn’t fully come into play until the last half-hour, and you don’t even care because everything leading up to it is so satisfying. When it does arrive, Coogler uses the bloody mayhem to deepen the themes he’s spent ninety minutes carefully developing.

Set in 1932, the film stars Michael B. Jordan as twin brothers Smoke and Stack, who have just returned home to the Mississippi Delta after years working in Chicago’s criminal underground. Using the cash they accumulated, the siblings plan to open their own juke joint. They hire a young guitar player named Sammie (Miles Caton) to be one of their musicians. He signs on against the wishes of his pastor father, a pious man who sees the blues as the devil's music. Pianist Delta Slim (Delroy Lindo) accompanies Sammie on keyboards and Smoke’s estranged wife Annie (Wunmi Mosaku) cooks the food. One of the opening night guests is Stack’s biracial former lover Mary (Hailee Steinfeld).

Early scenes in Sinners develop the characters and their relationships to each other. We also see how Smoke and Stack use their influence – and cash – to quickly put their business together. It’s clear that some people in their lives harbor resentment toward them for having left in the first place. Equally clear is that their vision to create a thriving Black-owned establishment is inspiring. Coogler goes deep into these ideas, creating first-class drama that’s carried out by an ace cast.

Amazingly, casting Jordan in a dual role doesn’t feel like a stunt. The actor is exceptional as the brothers, building a multi-layered dynamic with himself. Smoke is no-nonsense and all business; Stack is the fast-talking showman. They are two fascinating sides of the same coin. I quickly forgot visual effects were being used to allow him to play both men because his performances are so dynamic.

I don’t want to get too specific about how the horror factors in. A prologue describes an old belief pertaining to musicians so talented that they can summon evil. That evil arrives in the form of Remmick (Jack O’Connell), a white guy who’s very adamant about being allowed entry into the juke joint. He and his two cohorts are a specific sort of creature, but the story doesn’t use them in the manner we’re used to. Coogler is utilizing horror tropes to examine the Jim Crow South. What Remmick offers is not necessarily villainous, even if the means of executing his plan most certainly are. The last act of Sinners is wall-to-wall action, all of which serves to meaningfully pay off both the Smoke/Stack relationship and the overall exploration of how Black people were suppressed in the era.

Technically, the picture is a marvel. Autumn Durald Arkapaw’s ultra-widescreen cinematography is lush and atmospheric, instantly pulling us into this world. Outstanding production design makes the juke joint come alive, and Ludwig Göransson’s evocative score perfectly accentuates every scene where it’s featured. Coogler displays visual ambition, too, most notably in a long single-shot musical number that mixes decades in magical fashion.

You could take out the horror stuff and Sinners would still be a 4-star drama about the efforts of two brothers to open their own business in a society run by whites. The horror kicks the film’s ideas to another level, though. This is a movie that delivers the requisite jolts at the same time that it’s stimulating your intellect and hitting you on an emotional level. That’s an astounding trifecta.

Note: Do not leave when the end credits start or you will miss an amazing extra scene.

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