The Media Tourist

Movie Review: Vampires attack a 1930s juke joint in ‘Sinners,’ a heady horror movie about…a bunch of things

Sinners
Starring Michael B. Jordan, Hailee Steinfeld, Miles Canton & Delroy Lindo
Directed by Ryan Coogler
Rated R

In theaters Friday, April 18

A phantasmagoric, blues-infused parable with a lot on its mind, Sinners brings together history, lore, music and mystical mojo into a spicy golly-whopper of a tale about lookalike twin veterans who return to their Mississippi homeland in the Jim Crow South after serving overseas in World War I.

Known as “Smoke” and “Stack” (and both played by Michael B. Jordan), the bros—toting a satchel of cash, likely from some gangsta-like postwar activities up north, in Chicago—want to open a social club where local blues artists can perform, people can gamble, drink, party and dance, and the money will flow.

But some vampires—yes, vampires—have other ideas. And they’re out for blood.

Director Ryan Coogler, who made his hit-movie bona fides with the Rocky spinoff Creed and Marvel’s Black Panther, shows he’s also adept with a rip-roaring, rampaging thriller about the undead, set to a vibe-rich soundtrack of deep-dish delta blues. Vampires, as you might recall, have always been depicted as seductive, sexually voracious creatures, and Coogler doesn’t shy from reminding us of that longtime connection. In Sinners, both the living and the dead clearly enjoy the pleasures of the flesh.

These vampires are also seductive in another way, “inviting” the living to join their ranks and exist for eternity, out of time, where all are welcome, regardless of credo or skin color.

The vampires represent several other things, too, including the “blood” ties of ancestry, the cross-pollination of cultures, a timeline connecting past and present, and the breaching of “boundaries” separating the living and the dead. The movie clearly evokes the fable of blues guitarist Robert Johnson, who was so “unnaturally” gifted that the story arose he must have breached that boundary, meeting the devil in a crossroads and selling his soul in exchange for musical talent.

In the movie, young guitar-toting “Preacher Boy” Sam (newcomer Miles Caton, making a most impressive movie debut), is chastised by his evangelist father (Saul Williams) about playing in honkytonks, making music for “drunkards and philanderers” and doing a dangerous “dance with the devil.” Sam is clearly the movie’s Robert Johnson surrogate, with Sinners suggesting that music has an almost otherworldly potency, a connective, life-changing power that can even open supernatural portals—like when the juke joint is suddenly filled for a dreamlike sequence with dancers and musicians across centuries. We see Native American spirit dancers mixing it up with hip-hoppers, twerkers and even a funkadelic guitarist. It’s a marvelously eye-popping head trip, just like when, later, a field full of vampires break into an extended Irish jig and a folk song, suggesting yet another regional current of musical heritage.

Hailee Steinfeld (above) is a femme fatale. Veteran actor Delroy Lindo plays Delta Slim, a bluesman with stories to tell. Britain’s Jack O’Connell is Remmick, the vampire chieftain.

It’s all woven into a rich, vibrantly detailed tapestry of the Great Depression South, with allusions to the region’s history of ugly volatility between Black and white culture, the concept of sin and transgression, themes of separation and segregation, and the thin line between faith and fear. It goes a bit gonzo in its second half, almost like Quentin Tarantino took the reins for the finale, when the blood finally flows and spurts, the vampires crash the party, and everything takes an explosively hyper-violent turn.

How does it all pan out? Well, you’ll just have to watch to see, but trust me, it’s a wild ride. Stay for the credits for a flash-forward with one of the central characters, now elderly (and played, in a nice touch, by real-life blues guitarist Buddy Guy).

A zestfully fresh take on thangs with fangs, Sinners invites you sink your teeth into the juicy, boldly unexpected turns of this spicy and sensual deep-South honky-tonk horror show.

—Neil Pond