Sinners

Twin brothers Smoke and Stack (Michael B Jordan) return to their roots in the Jim Crow South after a life of military service and mob politics. In an attempt to clean their act, the siblings invest in a jukebar, only to face more sinister forces on the opening night.

A genre mishmash that delivers on all fronts. Written and directed by Ryan Coogler, Sinners marks the first time Coogler relies on an original storyline. Following his true story-based drama Fruitvale Station, Coogler dabbled in blockbuster properties like Creed and the two Black Panther films. Having established himself as both an auteur and a money-making machine, Coogler and his crew rely on a big budget (and some high-priced IMAX cameras) for yet another blockbuster experience that might be his finest work yet. In its buildup for the opening night of a new juke joint, Sinners mostly limits its setting to one night and one nightspot. But within these creaky wooden walls, the story’s epic scale incorporates multiple genres seamlessly blending into one exhilarating mass-entertaining package. Sinners works as a blood-soaked vampire horror with convincing jump scares and racial metaphors. But then again, it’s a full-fledged musical in its own right, with surreal performances that celebrate both the rural steel-guitar roots of Southern folk and blues, also giving way to its subsequent electric legacy. With enough nods to African griot (traveling poet-musicians) traditions, real-life blues history, Christian metaphors, and a no-holds-barred attack against the long-fanged undead and the hooded supremacists, Ryan Coogler has delivered a multi-genre blockbuster par excellence.

A rip-roaring celebration of the blues (aka “devil’s music”). Coogler’s college buddy-turned-frequent collaborator Ludwig Göransson is also fired up on all engines, starting with lazily-paced string-plucking and building up to a rip-roaring crescendo of slide guitars and drums of all sorts. Grammy-winning blues legend Buddy Guy plays a pivotal role in the film and its soundscape; Sinners becomes as much of a sensory experience for the ears as much as its orange-drenched visuals appease the eyes. True to its era, the film also delves into the mythos of the blues being seen as the devil’s music. This leads us to a standout performance from the ensemble.

Michael B Jordan is expectedly charming and magnetic in a double role, but a first-timer also steals the show. Debutant Miles Caton plays “Preacher Boy” Sammie, a gifted guitar prodigy who his pastor father repeatedly condemns for “dancing with the devil.” Coogler and his musical troupe are clearly tipping their hats to Blues legends like Robert Johnson, the enigmatic guitarist who is believed to have sold his soul to the devil in exchange for fortune and fame. But no church sermon or Klan-associated vampire attack can stop Caton’s Sammie from playing the six strings. Previously singing backup for H.E.R., the debutant is in top form here, whether he’s acting as Smoke and Stack’s meek-hearted cousin or as a teen faced with the dilemma of choosing between faith and talent. When Sinners needs heavy-duty action and heartfelt brotherly dynamics, Jordan is in full form as both twins. But it’s Caton’s rousing singing/guitaring and his character arc that form the emotional crux of this almost biblical epic.