“Sinners” Mixes Blues and Supernatural

Sinners (Ryan Coogler, 2025) 5 out of 5 stars

Ever since his debut feature, Fruitvale Station, Ryan Coogler has built a reputation for telling nuanced stories about Black communities. Even as he entered major franchises like Creed and Black Panther, Coogler kept that same perspective intact. But with his newest feature, Sinners, Coogler crafts his most personal story yet. Set in 1932, Sinners follows twin brothers Smoke and Stack (both played by frequent collaborator Michael B. Jordan) as they move back to their Mississippi hometown to open a juke joint. Opening night seems to be going well, but things quickly turn sinister when three unexpected guests arrive. At first glance, Sinners looks like just a fun horror flick. However, Coogler has more on his mind than mere thrills. He uses the story’s Southern setting to make a bigger point about confinement, community, and what freedom really looks like.

Much of Sinners’ first half is spent getting to know the twins and the town’s residents. Jordan is completely convincing in his dual role, with Smoke’s calculated calm balancing out Stack’s recklessness. The rest of the ensemble cast proves just as memorable. Annie (Wunmi Mosaku, His House) is a local hoodoo practitioner whose spiritual experience proves helpful later. Mary (Hailee Steinfeld, The Edge of Seventeen) is a mixed-race woman passing for white who has history with the twins. Chinese store owners Grace (Li Jun Li, Babylon) and Bo (Yao, #LookAtMe) are the twins’ old friends and fellow entrepreneurs. Lastly, Delta Slim (Delroy Lindo, Da 5 Bloods) and the twins’ cousin, Sammie (Miles Caton, making his big-screen debut), are bluesmen, the former a veteran and the latter a preacher’s boy. Coogler devotes nearly an hour to establishing all these characters and their motivations, but they are all so engaging to watch that it never feels drawn out. This way, the community feels lived in, and you care when it is threatened.

Without giving too much away, Sinners earns its R-rating once the second half begins. Violence and sexual content are heightened compared to Coogler’s previous work, but it feels visceral and not juvenile. The strangers, in particular, are certainly uncanny to watch at times. Nevertheless, their motivation is not as clichéd as you might think. This especially applies to their menacing leader, Remick (Jack O’Connell, Little Fish), who knows far more about the twins than he should. Once you learn who the strangers are and why they are stalking this juke joint, you can understand (if not condone) their choices. Interestingly enough, I would argue that the juke joint setting is what really sets Sinners apart from films with similar premises.

The ultimate purpose of a juke joint is to create a communal space for Black people, safe from the bigotries of the outside world. When Smoke and Stack open their spot, it represents not only a fresh start, but a chance for freedom. So, seeing them fight desperately to defend it means something. Just as significant is the blues music we hear there. When Sammie and Delta Slim perform together, they demonstrate that blues performers are truth-tellers, carrying on a storytelling tradition dating back to ancient African griots. As Slim puts it, “this wasn’t forced on us like religion, we brought it with us.”

That desire to bridge the gap between past and future generations permeates the film. It takes full advantage of its premise to combine the gory thrills of classic horror with the soulfulness of American blues. I am happy I got to see a film this unique in theaters. If nothing else, it proves that some stories and genres are truly timeless.

George W. Campbell

George W. Campbell is a director/screenwriter/editor from Bowie, Maryland, whose films focus on themes of family and personal relationships. As a Nicaraguan-American filmmaker, he aims to highlight specific parts of his culture and personal experiences (songs, dances, foods, and language).