Warner Bros. Pictures
Within the last decade, writer-director Ryan Coogler has cast Michael B. Jordan in six of his most significant projects. The dynamic, disruptive duo come back together to make “Sinners” as action-packed as “Creed” and as profound as “Black Panther” that, at its heart, celebrates Black culture throughout history in an unexpected commentary about white supremacy and its impact on indigenous communities.
Set in the Mississippi Delta, identical twins Smoke and Stack (Jordan), both World War I veterans, return home after robbing gangsters in Chicago. With the stolen money, the pair plan to open a juke joint, Club Juke, in an old sawmill they bought from racist landowners. Their cousin Sammie (Miles Caton), son of a preacher with an innate talent for blues music, joins them. Unlike the phenomenon present in the releases of other anticipated blockbusters, “Sinners” exceeds expectations set by trailers — after all, it is nearly impossible to communicate everything the film achieves into a simply put Jim-Crow “vampire flick.”
The very first sequence is poignant enough to make an impression on audiences, as we see a beat-up, weakened Sammie break into his father’s church, with flashes of the night before appearing on screen. This manages to create the adrenaline rush that horror movies like “The Conjuring” are famously known for. The story slowly builds up as the twins and Sammie go their separate ways to gather a staff of old friends who will help bring a crowd to Club Juke.
Coogler uses the first half of the film to establish core relationships. Smoke goes looking for Grace Chow (Li Jun Li) and Bo Chow (Yao), local Chinese shopkeepers who will mind the bar. The twins fulfill an anti-hero role, having no limits as to how far they will use violence to get what they want: whether this is money, power or respect — but they do so to help those oppressed by white supremacy. A great example of this happens shortly after we meet the Chows when two townsfolk try to steal Smoke’s truck and he shoots them both, not to kill them but to draw a boundary. Meanwhile, Stack and Sammie travel to the train station to find alcoholic bluesman Delta Slim (Delroy Lindo) and convince him to play with them.
Mary (Hailee Steinfeld), who has a half-African American grandfather, grew up in the Black community. She developed a romance with Stack before he left her to go to Chicago. Mary’s mother was also responsible for raising the twins after they killed their abusive father, allowing audiences to explore these complex relationships of the white ally, interracial lovers and dysfunctional fatherhood.
Smoke also has an estranged wife, a Hoodoo conjurer named Annie (Wunmi Mosaku), who has used her magic to protect the twins. This connection is fascinating as Smoke is the more emotionally frivolous twin and Annie is a motherly presence — something very fitting when we learn that Smoke and her had a daughter who passed away. Their reunion is passionate, and Coogler doesn’t shy away from depicting sex as a very passionate act, with every couple sharing an intimate scene but treating it in a romantic, seductive way rather than just an excuse to have Jordan shirtless on camera.
One cannot deny the incredible camera work, for example, the flawlessly executed continuous shots. Early in the film, there is a shot that follows Lisa Chow (Helena Hu) as she is sent to look for her mom, Grace, across the street, and then it returns full circle to Bo’s shop alongside his wife, allowing the audience to get a feel for the town. Another superb scene is a woozy shot that follows the camera as it travels through the joint and time.
While Sammie sings, a narration explains how he connects with the souls of the past and future through his powerful melodies. A range of fantastical ghoul performers, including African drummers, Afro-funk guitarists, hip-hop artists, R&B stars and even Chinese dancers are invoked, showcasing the beauty of community and art.
Toward the film’s climax, the action intensifies, as does the social commentary behind this Southern Gothic, genre-fluid tale. Remmick (Jack O’Connell), the villain of the film, is allured by Sammie’s powers, interrupting the celebration as he and a white supremacist couple show up at the club and play folk music for them. It is revealed that Remmick is an Irish vampire who emigrated to the U.S. and slowly claims more victims, disrupting the short-lived joy of those attending the opening of Club Juke.
By using vampire lore and mixing it with religious guilt in American minorities imposed by the conquistadors, Coogler explores the underlying white supremacy and appropriation that has happened for ages when it comes to Black culture. Even in the victims of Remmick, who all join one conscious mind, we can see a metaphorical but very real transformation and adjustment necessary from people of color to fit into the white ideal society — one where they hold no power.
“Sinners” is a film that will get gears turning and start a conversation for audiences, the industry and society as a whole. It will make watchers question their beliefs about race, allyship and religion. With mid-credits and post-credits scenes that teases the audience with the possibility of a sequel, one thing is for sure: If Coogler chooses to explore that storyline, it will be hard to surpass the standard set by this installment.