Sinners, 2025.
Written and Directed by Ryan Coogler.
Starring Michael B. Jordan, Hailee Steinfeld, Jack O’Connell, Wunmi Mosaku, Jayme Lawson, Omar Benson Miller, Delroy Lindo, Li Jun Li, Lola Kirke, Yao, Miles Caton, Peter Dreimanis, Christian Robinson, Jermaine Mctizic, MD. Shinha Sarder, Alamgir Hossain Raj, and MD. Meyaraz Hossen Rahad.
SYNOPSIS:
Trying to leave their troubled lives behind, twin brothers return to their hometown to start again, only to discover that an even greater evil is waiting to welcome them back.
At around the halfway point, Ryan Coogler’s 1930s Mississippi-set high-concept Sinners has a spellbinding sequence that encapsulates everything one could possibly want from a studio blockbuster. It comes after twins Smoke and Stack (a dual role for Michael B. Jordan, both characters bursting with charisma, complexity, toughness, intensity, and internal pain while also occasionally disagreeing with one another and letting out different sides of a similar coin, confirming once again that he is a bonafide movie star capable of anything), two World War I soldiers that went on to work with Al Capone in Chicago, amassing a sizable amount of money, have opened their dream juke joint, remodeled from a defunct sawmill purchased from some racists that may or may not come back to reclaim it.
In a film brimming with culture and music (predominantly Black but also a dash of Irish in a menacing jig from Jack O’Connell and company, a pair of Asian characters, and a dash of plain whiteness in a family friend played by Hailee Steinfeld), the latter of which is described during an opening mythoology-laced graphic as having the connective piercing power of opening a gateway between life and death, the aspect ratio switches to the IMAX format and not only gracefully glides around the room (exceptionally transfixing work from cinematographer Autumn Durald Arkapaw), but also transcends into anachronistic territory depicting an evolution of that culture and music without calling distracting attention to itself.
Set to lively, soul stirring musical performances and an unforgettable score from Ludwig Göransson that perfectly leans into that grace whenever not indulging the more suspenseful, action-oriented elements with a noteworthy, often repeated series of adrenaline-pumping guitar stringing, this is a breathtaking set piece putting on display Ryan Coogler’s phenomenal talent as a filmmaker; it’s pure, awe-inspiring movie magic.
The acclaimed Black Panther/Fruitvale Station filmmaker is locked in on fire here, exploring similar themes from past works such as the meaning of freedom, while using a genre twist here to comment on white artists having long co-opted Black culture to give birth to their mega superstardom (think Elvis Presley) with a desire for assimilation through proposed unity. The specifics shouldn’t be dived into, and it would be far more informative to read a perspective on that aspect from a Black critic, as all I can confidently speak on is how psychologically compelling it is. From that point, Ryan Coogler could have quickly jumped into nonstop violence, but he wisely allows the characters and dynamics to play off each other further before erupting into that showstopping, bloodthirsty carnage.
Sinners is a slow burn, delicately introducing its characters, temporarily pulling the twins on separate paths as they gather supplies and workers for the grand opening of their juke joint. Stack heads off with their musically gifted guitar-playing cousin Sammie (Miles Caton), a young man torn between following his aspirations and giving it up for his religiously fanatic father, asserting that they are all drunkards and philanderers, and that if one dances with the devil long enough, it will follow them home. Together, they encounter Stack’s former partner, Mary (Hailee Steinfeld), grieving her mother and angry that he couldn’t pay his respects. Mary also practically invites herself to the juke joint opening.
Meanwhile, Smoke reconnects with his estranged partner Annie (a nuanced, emotionally tormented turn from Wunmi Mosaku), who also specializes in unorthodox medicines and other dark knowledge, meaning she is the requisite smart character once chaos is brought to the front door of the juke joint. More to the point, they have a tragic past that led to them going their separate ways; something that has also ripped a hole in Smoke’s heart. Nevertheless, they make some amends, and she is also invited.
There are also some magnetic performances from supporting players such as Delroy Lindo as a drunkard offered some Irish beer brought in from Chicago in exchange for switching teams and playing his harmonica at the twins’ juke joint, an Asian couple (Helena Hu and Yao) commissioned to design some signs and menus while also being invited to partake in the festivities, a dopey but brute force option for a bouncer (Omar Benson Miller), and various talented musicians highlighted through arresting performances. Crashing the party is Jack O’Connell’s Remmick, who we know is up to no good and harboring a secret alongside his companions, but also has an offer that could put the juke joint operations in a financially stable position at the risk of interfering with the Blackness of the place.
Despite some gut-punch payoffs, the characters lack some depth, and every plot point doesn’t feel satisfactorily explored. This is all that should be said about the plot. If you notice, I intentionally haven’t even explained the genre-bending reveal (which is a bit too conventional and tropey before Ryan Coogler finds a way to work in his thematic context) because it’s frustrating and maddening that studios feel the need to spoil major elements that don’t come into play until around the 45-minute mark. It would have been a thrilling jolt to the senses to have that revealed in real time, but that only exists in another time.
What can be said is that one point Sinners enters a fever dream haze from its intoxicating marriage of music and mythology that it would have been appropriate if the entire screen had been set ablaze. When the talking is done and it shifts to that IMAX aspect ratio for a long-simmering throwdown, which is not only immersive and delightfully violent but also serves as an extension of Ryan Coogler’s themes of artistic power, religious fanaticism, cultural appropriation, and freedom.
The only eye-rolling cinematic sin comes in a mid-credits scene with nonsense revelations that I refuse to believe aren’t the result of some potent drugs and Hollywood pressure to sequel/cinematic universe-bait. It’s also pretty damn easy to give Ryan Coogler a pass considering the towering cinematic greatness that has unfolded. Not rushing to the theater to see this should be a sin.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★ ★ ★
Robert Kojder is a member of the Chicago Film Critics Association, Critics Choice Association, and Online Film Critics Society. He is also the Flickering Myth Reviews Editor. Check here for new reviews and follow my BlueSky or Letterboxd
