Sinners
Successful as writer/director Ryan Coogler has been at injecting his vision into others’ stories, it’s a treat to see him working with original material for the first time.
The man behind both Black Panther films, the Rocky legacy project Creed, and the fact-based Fruitvale Station proves that he’s been a freak all along with Sinners, an exciting, allegorically-rich horror film and easily one of the most creative vampire movies of all time.
Rooted in gripping dual performances by Michael B. Jordan, the 1930s Mississippi-set thriller plays like From Dusk Till Dawn in the Jim Crow South — but has slightly more to say than that Robert Rodriguez/Quentin Tarantino collaboration.
Coogler makes his elevated purposes clear through a somewhat overlong opening hour, dominated by excessive character development as twins Smoke and Stack (Jordan) return home after a seven-year detour in Chicago. Why are they back? The brothers claim it’s a “devil you know” situation and that the Windy City is just as racist as the South, but a lame, 11th hour explanation arises and is swept over like it was never uttered.
Determined to establish and open a juke joint in less than a day, the siblings accomplish a staggering amount in a matter of hours, but this efficiency just shows how tight their bonds are in the community. Over that span, viewers get to know the brother’s guitar prodigy cousin Sammie “Preacher Boy” Moore (promising newcomer Miles Caton), their old flames Annie (Wunmi Mosaku, His House) and Mary (Hailee Steinfeld), and local blues legend Delta Slim (Delroy Lindo). Though less time is spent on Chinese grocery owners Grace (Li Jun Li) and Bo (Yao), fieldhand-turned-bouncer Cornbread (Omar Miller, 8 Mile), and Sammie’s crush Pearline (Jayme Lawson, The Batman), they’re all such distinct characters that we care about them once danger descends.
And boy does it ever come barreling into their lives! From the second Remmick (Jack O’Connell) stumbles (crash-lands?) onto the screen in front of the home of Joan (Lola Kirke) and Bert (Peter Dreimanis), his skin lightly smoking from the setting sun, it’s clear that Coogler has crafted an exciting new take on vampire mythology.
Luring this evil party of three to the juke joint’s door is Sammie’s generational skill, which the filmmaker presents in a stunning sequence where the young man’s playing conjures fellow Black musicians from the past and future who also possess his very specific gift. A wondrous communion of visual and sonic bliss, imbued with soulful thematic statements that turn the wild showcase into a spectacular spiritual event, it’s an early Scene of the Year candidate and naturally attracts polar opposite forces of evil.
While it’s tempting to surmise that Coogler views the Irish/Celtic music these visitors peddle as evil, its intent here seems more an extension of a central metaphor involving the long history of white society intruding on and coopting Black culture. And vampiric though that behavior most certainly is, Sinners’ exceptional bloodsucker effects drive home the messaging in entertaining, horrifying fashion.
The tense, bravado showdown between the quick and the dead is so electrifying that it nearly makes one forget how shadowy everyone’s face appears throughout the film, thanks to cinematographer Autumn Durald Arkapaw’s questionable lighting choices, and that there are more endings than The Return of the King.
Nearly diluting the film’s overall power, one pseudo conclusion — which a friend brilliantly described as a “‘now that I have your attention’ moment” — is fun and gratuitous in an Inglorious Basterds and Django Unchained way. But another winds up being an extremely drawn out and somewhat clunky excuse to show Buddy Guy playing guitar for a few seconds.
Sinners doesn’t need these multiple codas to be a borderline great film. But like any exploitation flick, there’s still plenty to like within the overindulgence.
Grade: B-plus. Rated R. Now playing at AMC River Hills 10, Carolina Cinemark, and Regal Biltmore Grande.
(Photo: Warner Bros. Pictures)
