In the span of one film, Sinners addresses everything I dislike in the horror genre. Where most releases are rickety, disposable, and intended for fast income, Ryan Coogler delivers a sprawling, meticulous, and elegant film. Detractors will say it’s a bit low on scares, but Sinners more than makes up for that by being rich in atmosphere, ambitious in scope, and a spectacle for the eyes and ears. If more horror flicks were like this one, I’d become a fan.
Writer-director Coogler begins the story as something very different. We open in the Mississippi Delta, somewhere deep in the Depression. The Smokestack Twins (Michael B. Jordan) return home after seven years running guns and hooch for Al Capone. They’re flush with cash stolen from the Chicago Outfit, and plan to use the money to open their very own juke joint. To make it work, Smoke and Stack will have to get help from old friends in the local community, all while avoiding the Klan and angry mobsters.
During this setup, we meet the twins’ extended family: Sammie (Miles Caton) is their blues-playing cousin who finds himself approaching the same crossroads as Robert Johnson. Mary (Hailee Steinfeld) used to date Stack, and may still carry a torch for him. Annie (Wunmi Mosaku) was married to Smoke until a shared tragedy drove them apart. Finally, Slim (Delroy Lindo) is a boozy piano player who channels his trauma into being a wicked musician.
That’s enough narrative substance to support an entire movie, but Coogler and company use it as mere runway. As the twins get their juke joint bumping, the story reveals its biggest surprise: This lively party is about to fall under siege to a trio of thirsty vampires. Remmick (Jack O’Connell) and his minions present as harmless folk musicians. They only want to play the crowd with their rootsy playlist–so they claim. In reality, these monsters need an invitation inside so they can devour and enslave their audience.
If this sounds like a weird mash of O Brother Where Art Thou and From Duck Till Dawn, you’re not wrong. Coogler also borrows the aesthetics of The Color Purple and the revenge factor of Django Unchained. Tarantino doesn’t so much influence the energy and flow of the film so much as the creative spirit behind it: Much like QT, Coogler riffs on many familiar sources to create something new. Sinners may borrow heavily, but as a piece of compelling art, it stands on its own.
Beyond its narrative inspiration, Coogler also deploys a crew of Oscar-level quality. That starts with cinematographer Autumn Durald Arkapaw, who gives the film’s wide shots a supernatural infusion of color and crispness. It’s as if the story’s journey into Hell also features a scenic drive through Heaven. Swedish composer Ludwig Göransson offers a masterful sampler of swampy, stomping Delta blues. For Coogler, the music becomes a lead character, bearing witness to the repression and resilience around it. Even further, the film posits that the blues are an essential component of the mythic sprawl of Black music and its influence reverberates into the present-day.
As for the performances, the entire cast is uniformly strong. At the top, Jordan thrives in a difficult situation. The gimmick of having one actor play identical twins is risky, and it has sunk more than one film. (See also: Sandler, Adam.) Thankfully, Jordan gives noticeably different vibes to Smoke and Stack, making the former more grounded and haunted and the latter brash and impulsive. Around them, Coogler creates an orbit of strong women: Steinfeld’s Mary is smart, feisty, and vulnerable. Mosaku’s grief-stricken mother gives the film an added dimension of sorrow, and her Hoodoo mysticism comes in handy when the vampires attack. I even enjoyed the small role of Li Jun Li as the shopkeeper who wants to start bustin’ some vampires before they get to her daughter. On a separate note, it’s great to see Delroy Lindo as the overserved bluesman.
Some viewers might quibble that Sinners runs too long and burns too slow. After all, horror flicks are supposed to be short and disposable. But I would argue that very few horror movies have the care and refinement of this one. To paraphrase the late, great Roger Ebert: The best movies always feel too short; the bad ones can’t get over fast enough. Sinners gives us a lot of a good thing, and a part of me even wishes it went on a little longer.
138 min. R. MAX.
