When I first heard whispers of Sinners, it felt like life calling: a vampire film director Ryan Coogler conceived himself, starring Michael B. Jordan in dual roles, set in 1930s Mississippi—with juke‑joints, blues, and Jim Crow tensions. As someone drawn to genre‑bending stories rooted in real pain and spiritual resilience, Sinners was a must-see. Plus, after Black Panther and Creed, Coogler stepping away from franchise filmmaking to helm something entirely new only heightened my curiosity.
It is a story set in 1932 Clarksdale, Mississippi about twin brothers Smoke and Stack (both played by Michael B. Jordan) who have been away in the criminal underworld in Chicago. They will use stolen money to open a juke joint- a place to lift Black spirits by means of music. However, their dream draws in other darker forces. In comes Remmick, a folk-singing vampire who wants to drain their power by means of the talented blues musician cousin Sammie (Miles Caton). Where the tones of music become a reminder of the past and the ghost of white supremacy lingers in all places, Sinners turns into a supernatural judgment.
The rhythm of the film reached me as soon as I watched the introductory frame. Cinematographer Autumn Durald Arkapaw overlays the blazing horizon with the dark interior, creating a visual poetry based on grime and grief . The juke joint scenes with candle flicker, motion and music were alive; it was like being spiritual. A highlight of this was a single long take of Sammie performing, which knitted together time to bring ancestors of past, present and future to the dance floor. There was no spectacle to it, it was ritual, visible memory.
And the music-- composer Ludwig G2 ransson and his cohorts incorporate blues and folk, R&B, rap and even Irish music into a seamless mosaic. It does not just follow the movie, but it is the heartbeat of the movie.
The fact that Sinners intertwines the social commentary and horror gives me hairs on the back of the neck electric. The image of the vampire is symbolic, the colonial monster, the one that feeds on culture, identity, and joy, in the form of the mysterious Remmick. The resistance of the two brothers to systematic racism is guttural. Guns and money will only go so far in defense of you, it is musical soul and ancestral resonance that fights back the hardest.
Michael B. Jordan plays two performances in a single film, one of them is Smoke, who is filled with sorrow and kindness, and the other one is Stack, explosive, violent, and damaged. His slight distinction between the twins is not body language; it is feeling presence. Sammie, played by Miles Caton, is the youth and power with a rope attached to religion, and Delta Slim, performed by Delroy Lindo, and Annie, portrayed by Wunmi Mosaku, balance the story with elegance and spiritual knowledge.
However the movie is not perfect. Certain side stories and minor characters seem to be improperly developed, and I would have welcomed flashbacks or some notion of emotional background of characters who would hint at but never show their past. And the last act, though exciting and gory, is sometimes burdened by the heavy themes it tries to tackle--some of the threads are left loose, and some are hastily wrangled up
After the credits rolled on, I came out of the theater with the reverberation in my chest. Sinners was not merely amusement, it was a metaphysical avowal, a complaint, and a war-song in harmonies.
I reflected upon the strength of the music of the people in the Black past: blues, spirituals, juke-joints, a place of revelry and rebellion. It is not only souls that Sammie brings out in his music but collective memory as well. The scene of many generations of people dancing together was a kind of mourning and ritual re-born.
The vampires, white, centuries old, culturally parasitic, they were the most loyal metaphor of historical domination and cultural expropriation. It is not only the bite that is horrific in the story, it is the loss. And by the end of the film, that loss turns to resistance: music and community as resistance
It brought it to mind: art is spiritual armour. In grief too, in ruin, beauty remains. Sinners taught me that a song is much about rebelling; that a roof of laughter can silence the centuries of silence.
Sinners by Ryan Coogler is a banquet and a scar; it is rich in appearance, multilayered in musical bliss and burdened with the past sorrows. It is ambitious (and maybe overambitious at times) but its effect cannot be ignored. The critics acclaimed it as the best cinematic accomplishment of 2025, and it received almost unanimous acclaim (96% on Rotten Tomatoes) and a slew of awards, including Best Picture, Best Director, Best Acting at the Astra Midseason Movie Awards .
It is a movie that will stay with you not only because of its spectacle, but because it requires of you a sense of history shaking in your living room.
Watch it to get more than horror-watch it because you want a story based in history, based in culture and in seeing your ancestors in every chord of a guitar. But be on guard, it requires of you to listen with your soul as a whole
Thumbnail is designed by me on pixelLab and other images are screenshot from the movie
