“You keep dancin’ with the devil? One day he gonna follow you home.”

Story: It’s 1932, deep in Jim Crow Mississippi, and guitar player Sammie “Preacher Boy” Moore has had one hell of a night at the opening of Club Juke. Emphasis on hell. Wanna hear about it? Here it goes. [All apologies to “In Living Color” and En Vogue…]

Genre I’d put it in: Historical Horrors
Release Date: 2025
Remake, Sequel, Based-On, or Original: Original, but you’ll get a whiff of homage to stuff by Tarantino and Rodriguez as things progress.

Gotta say: I thought about keeping a few spoilers intact in this review. And while I will do just that, there’s one that I can’t seem to avoid; Sinners is a gloriously depraved, absolutely fantastic horror film that’ll knock your socks off. There, I said it. Big ol’ horror film. Huge. And if you’re a horrorhound, you’ll wanna see it. Heck, if you’re able to handle anime levels of blood gush, or just wanna go see something that’s gonna suck you in completely? Go see it. Like, buy your tickets now.

Coogler put serious love into this film, and it shows. From the use of two different film stocks (that’s right y’all – actual film not the digital stuff) to the realistic, lovingly detailed sets, Sinners is a love letter to 1930s Blues music. “There’s magic in what we do.” Coogler’s focus on music as a way of connecting past, present, and future generations into something much more powerful and spiritual is beautifully done. One scene in particular is part fever dream, part honest depiction of how really good music can literally burn the place down, while sending listeners to a higher plane. That that scene ends with bad guy Remmick and his band finding Club Juke quietly signals a turning point in the story, a shift from a taste of freedom to abject horror. And wow, do things get horrific fast.

Sinners‘ use of blood and gore FX is horrifically realistic, yet at the same time gloriously overboard. Exaggerated gushers and pools of the red stuff puts sharp focus on the violence the characters are witnessing, and may experience if they’re not careful. I also couldn’t help but think of victims of racial violence as Black characters become ripped/blown apart. (That there are several references to the Klan and their activities in the film definitely had me in that head space.)

As with his earlier films, there’s a lot that Coogler wants to convey in this film. Racism, music as a transcendent vehicle, colorism/the “one drop rule”, the power of traditions, and the importance of family (blood and chosen) are just a few. At around two hours and seventeen minutes – all of which you’ll want to be present for, as there are two end credits scenes – these themes and concepts are well presented. Characters are introduced not only as individuals, but as microcosms of greater groups and issues within their community.

As always, Coogler stacks his cast with top-notch performers. Even newcomer Miles Caton, as Sammie, delivers a powerful performance. Caton works well with the rest of the ensemble cast, yet more than holds his own when it’s his time to take center stage. Of course Michael B. Jordan is amazing, but as twins “Smoke” and “Stack”, he’s really in his element. Jordan crafts two separate personalities, making it easy to distinguish between the two characters. (And kudos to the costuming department for designing two separate yet similar looks for the two brothers.) Special shout-outs go to two folks here, because I couldn’t make up my mind; Tenaj L. Jackson as Smoke’s beloved Beatrice, and Jayme Lawson as Pearline, a singer who catches the eye of young Sammie. Jackson’s Beatrice is strong, confident, yet loving towards her “family”, and she gets lots of scenes where her emotional range truly shines.

And Lawson? Y’all. Y’ALL. When I say that woman can sing? I mean it. There’s a moment where she takes the stage, and I completely forgot I was watching a horror movie. [UPDATE – I’m thinking about “Pale Pale Moon”. Give it a listen!] I just wanted an entire concert from that woman. The subtlety and winsome charm of Pearline hides a lioness of the stage, and Lawson shifts gears so beautifully it makes acting look easy. Easy, right.

Oh, and before I forget? Jack O’Connell’s Remmick, the head of a group of folks who are obviously more than they seem (maybe the red eyes and those damn teeth give it away) is an Irish charmer whose evil is in the honeyed words he uses just before things go red. Oh, and he’s a helluva dancer too. A scene where he and his troupe dance while Our Gang tries to shore up Club Juke will be living rent free in my head, thanks to O’Connell’s stepping, and the rest of the casts full-bodied movements.

You’ll get hints of films like Evil Dead, From Dusk ‘Til Dawn, and Demons here, and that’s a good thing for anyone looking to have a rip-roaring, blood-tastic good time. Variety has called Sinners a “lavishly serious popcorn movie” in the title of it’s review, and I think that’s a perfect encapsulation of this film. So grab your besties, grab your snax. And maybe grab some picked garlic, just in case. You never can be too prepared. If great art can call to the devil? Who knows what may be sitting in the theater with you for this one.

#Protip: With Sinners, Coogler coupled Irish folk music with Blues very specifically as storytelling shorthand. It both connects the baddies with the folks at Club Juke, and serves as a way Remmick tries to show connection with his intended victims. The false equivalency he uses feels unsettlingly like truth to both the characters, and to the audience. Yet another layered antagonist in Coogler’s filmography. And it’s brilliant.