Warning: This review contains spoilers!
There is always a price to pay. A thrilling introspective on the impacts of blues, American evangelical values and Black perseverance, “Sinners” (2025) has captivated worldwide audiences by exploring the tolls of racial inequality. The film’s sensational presence is no surprise, as it is the product of Ryan Coogler, a director all too familiar with creating influential works like “Black Panther” (2018) and “Creed” (2015). Coogler’s past films have consistently paid homage to Black American culture and history, and “Sinners” is no exception.
The film opens in Clarksdale, Miss., 1932, following protagonist Sammie (Miles Caton) and his twin cousins, Smoke and Stack (Michael B. Jordan). Soft blues music drifts through the open air as the audience is transported to seemingly endless fields of cotton picked by sharecroppers, already introducing the film’s major themes. Often called “slavery under a different name,” sharecropping had a significant presence in the American South, as there were no efforts to redistribute land, highlighting the persistence of white supremacy and inequality. Sammie also works as a sharecropper, but his true passions lie in blues.
As a talented guitarist, Sammie piques the interest of his cousin, Stack. After witnessing Sammie’s musical prowess, Stack continues to gather established blues musicians to prepare for the opening of his and his brother’s venue.The audience soon learns the twins plan to open a juke joint, a venue intended for Black music, Black dance and Black fellowship. Smoke and Stack’s juke joint is a pursuit of profit, of course, but it also represents a literal and metaphorical safe haven.
The presence of blues in this era of Black American culture, as well as in the film, signifies the resilience of joy. Coogler depicts Black Americans utilizing music and dance to combat the fatigue of physical and emotional labor throughout all eras, not just the 1930s. In a stunning montage, the film pays homage to turntabling, hip-hop, rock, West African drumming and of course, blues. Each era of Black music is beautifully illustrated in this scene — I recall sitting up a little straighter the second it began. Not only is this intersection of musical history impressive, it’s empowering. The audience can sense the nuanced hardships of being Black in America throughout our nation’s history, as the film sheds light on past prejudice, it urges you to remember that it hasn’t left; it just looks a little different.
Blues music acting as a form of resilience is embraced by the majority of Sammie’s community in Mississippi, with one key outlier: his father. As an evangelical preacher, Sammie’s father claims that blues music is of the “devil” and urges Sammie to abstain from playing at his cousins’ juke joint. The relationship between father and son highlights the overwhelming influence of Christianity among Black Americans in the South, as well as the demonization of the blues. Sammie’s father and his church insist the pursuit of joy in the form of blues music is antithetical to Christian ideals; while this may seem hyperbolic in the modern day, the juke joint’s opening puts his view into perspective. Coogler’s representation of Evangelical values in this supernatural landscape evokes conflicting emotions within the viewer — you’re not sure who to root for, and that doubt fans the flames of the film’s remaining action.
Coogler’s masterful execution of the supernatural amidst a distinctly historical backdrop is something to behold. Smoke and Stack’s juke joint initially presents itself as an inviting environment for Clarksdale’s Black community to enjoy themselves with music, food and dancing, but it quickly becomes the only area of solitude from certain danger from members of the Ku Klux Klan as well as the film’s antagonist, Remmick (Jack O’Connell). By utilizing the soundtrack’s range of soft acoustic melodies and powerful vocals, as well as compelling cinematography techniques, Coogler tailors the atmosphere to alternate between comfort and suspense.
The juke joint’s embrace of release invites threatening circumstances, symbolizing how freedom is often intertwined with risk. The impactful ending of “Sinners,” in which Sammie is forced to choose between loyalty to his father’s evangelical views or liberation through a career as a blues musician, is a clear reflection of the price Black Americans continue to pay when overcoming systemic barriers. As characters gain emancipation from the constraints of a segregated society, they are forced to make incredible sacrifices. Stack is forced to leave his brother behind with the career he had always dreamed of, Mary (Hailee Steinfeld) watches one of her closest friends, Annie (Wunmi Mosaku), die and Sammie is forced to abandon his parents and community for the foreseeable future to pursue a career in blues music. The film, in exploring the obstacles they overcame, holds a mirror to the convoluted social dynamics Black Americans have endured throughout the nation’s history.
Despite my usual aversion to the horror genre, I was enthralled by “Sinners” and the story’s poignant representation of racial oppression. While the protagonists achieve a semblance of victory in the end, it is clear that they will continue to face an uphill battle along with the rest of their community and generations to come. “Sinners” refuses to ignore the ever-surmounting presence of prejudice in America while still offering the viewer a beacon of hope. As always, Coogler fully immerses his audiences through captivating cinematography and impactful storylines while begging the question of what it really means to be free.
Final Score: 8.5/10
