“Sinners” (2025) highlights the stark reality of all who have lost their identity and their land. Set in the Mississippi Delta in 1932, historical realism takes a dark turn into supernatural horror as tales passed down generations come to life.
Directed by Ryan Coogler, known for “Black Panther” (2018) and “Creed” (2015), “Sinners” brings new life to the horror genre and vampire narratives through a southern gothic lens.
Michael B. Jordan stars as the Moore twins, Elijah "Smoke" and Elias "Stack,” who return to Clarksdale, Mississippi, after years in Chicago. They purchase an old saw mill in hopes of turning it into a juke joint, a place for blues-music, dancing and drinking. Alongside their cousin Sammie "Preacher Boy" Moore, a debut performance by R&B singer Miles Caton, they gather old friends and former lovers for an opening night that descends into a Bram Stoker novel.
One scene, a hypnotic blend of young and old blues, captures the power of music as a cry to the ancestors and of shared memories and history. It is undeniably incredible. Music brings both life and death to the forefront, keeping people together as well as tearing them apart.
Stories of love play out in a kind of musical elegy, which strings audiences along on the three Moore’s mirroring love stories. Long-standing history, old love and new passion dive deeper in the movie’s main core: the power of music and the want for freedom that brings people together.
“Sinners” leans into the traditional portrayal of vampires, reminiscent of classic, southern folklore instead of the glittering creatures of today’s zeitgeist. It comes as a breath of fresh air after years of flat, almost boring, caricatures of the classic monster. These vampires are terrifying because they seem possible, and also come with some bone chilling visual effects.
Coogler doesn’t stop at reimagining the monsters, he digs deep into the history of systems that made them. The inclusion of Native American, Asian American, African American and Irish American stories weave together a story of displacement and struggle. In “Sinners,” supernatural evil and folktales mirror historical trauma.
In “Sinners,” music is a tool, a motive and a death sentence, and simultaneously tells the story of life and suffering.
The characters are well written, fleshed out and are perfectly fit for the world they’ve been thrust into.
“Sinners” amends the biggest flaw of nearly every horror movie, the main characters are rational. Their decisions are based in reality and outbursts are pragmatic instead of impractical. Steeped in realism, their decisions are relatable and reflect the personalities the viewer has just begun to learn.
The story didn’t rely on gore or cheap jumpscares to scare the wits out of its audiences, instead relying on tension and unrelenting dread.
Coogler’s movie reminds audiences embracing the old, and the classic, can still produce something entirely new, while simultaneously hypnotizing audiences into a blood-thirsty story. In “Sinners,” Coogler boldly reclaims the vampire genre without putting on the breaks.
