Sinners Review: Michael B. Jordan Doubles the Magnetism in Ryan Coogler’s Audacious Journey Into a Community’s Violated Soul
Michael B. Jordan (left) and Miles Caton in 'Sinners.' Warner Bros.
Coogler’s genre-defying horror epic takes a blood-soaked, spiritual, and sensual deep dive into the Black Southern Gothic.
Ryan Coogler makes a triumphant return to original storytelling with Sinners, a searing and richly layered cinematic tapestry that blends Southern Gothic atmosphere, vampire horror, ancestral folklore, and supernatural blues into a genre-defying experience. Teaming up once again with longtime collaborator Michael B. Jordan, Coogler delivers a film that is mythic in scope, deeply personal in emotion, and politically potent in message. It is a film that resists categorization, forging a new kind of prestige horror that’s as steeped in historical trauma as it is in feverish cinematic spectacle.
Set in 1932 Mississippi during the height of Jim Crow segregation, Sinners tells the story of identical twin brothers Smoke and Stack (both played with nuance and blistering charisma by Jordan), who return to their hometown of Clarksdale after years fighting in WWI and surviving Chicago’s underworld. They arrive with ambition, money, and swagger, intent on opening a juke joint that will bring music and liberation to their community. But their plans ignite dormant spiritual forces and provoke the wrath of white supremacist power structures—both mortal and undead.
Michael B. Jordan plays twin brothers in 'Sinners.' COURTESY OF WARNER BROS.
The film’s opening is unforgettable: a dazed and bloodied young man named Sammie (an astonishing debut from Miles Caton) stumbles into his father’s church, haunted by something monstrous. That man, we soon learn, possesses an otherworldly musical gift—one that can bridge the realms of the living and the dead. As the narrative rewinds 24 hours, Coogler constructs a riveting mosaic of memory, myth, and music, gradually revealing a cosmic struggle between ancestral magic and vampiric colonization.
Coogler’s world-building is astonishing in its complexity and beauty. Drawing from West African griot traditions, Celtic myth, Indigenous Choktaw lore, and Southern Black spiritualism, Sinners imagines a world where music is magic—capable of healing or cursing, elevating or dooming its listeners. This metaphysical undercurrent transforms the blues from sorrowful expression to weaponized resistance, turning every note into a lifeline against spiritual annihilation.
Michael B. Jordan is mesmerizing in dual roles. Smoke is the calculating, cold-eyed brother, obsessed with power and control, while Stack is more freewheeling, his gold-capped smile masking deeper trauma. Jordan plays both roles with distinct physicality and vocal modulation, grounding the film’s metaphysical twists in emotional truth. Their relationship, strained by time and shaped by divergent worldviews, becomes the emotional heart of the film—and its ultimate tragedy.
Wunmi Mosaku gives a revelatory performance as Annie, a Hoodoo conjurer and mother to Smoke’s son, buried on her land. Her love scenes with Jordan burn with longing and history, but her steely resolve and spiritual intuition make her the film’s fiercest protector. Hailee Steinfeld, Delroy Lindo, Jayme Lawson, and Omar Miller all shine in supporting roles, lending weight to a town caught between the physical and spiritual realms.
Autumn Durald Arkapaw’s cinematography is breathtaking—lush, painterly, and teeming with visual metaphor. Shot in 65mm IMAX and Ultra Panavision 70, the film's visuals evoke everything from Barry Jenkins’ dreamscapes to the grit of 1970s horror. The juke joint becomes a sanctuary, a battleground, and a portal to other dimensions. Every frame pulses with color, heat, and dread.
Ludwig Göransson’s score, fused with Raphael Saadiq’s blistering blues originals, is nothing short of revelatory. A standout sequence—the musical centerpiece “I Lied to You”—sees Sammie’s performance explode the barriers of time and culture, summoning ancestral dancers, hip-hop future shock, Chinese folk spirits, and ghostly echoes of African rituals. It’s an ecstatic ritual of liberation that celebrates Black cultural memory while confronting the violence that seeks to erase it.
Jack O'Connell in Ryan Coogler's 'Sinners'. © WARNER BROS./COURTESY EVERETT COLLECTION
Jack O’Connell’s Remmick is a chilling villain—a vampire lord with an Irish brogue and magnetic charm who promises liberation but delivers enslavement. He sings “Wild Mountain Thyme” as if it's a hymn of conquest, coercing Black townsfolk into undead subjugation masked as freedom. His presence is both seductive and terrifying, and O’Connell plays him with an unnerving blend of gentility and cruelty.
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Coogler doesn’t shy away from allegory. Sinners is a horror film that reckons with the theft of Black culture, the trauma of slavery, and the perversion of spiritual power by colonial forces. Yet it also brims with sensuality, humor, and joy. Its characters are lovers, dreamers, survivors, and revolutionaries. Its horror isn’t just in blood and fangs—it’s in memory, loss, and the fragile hope for something better.
Michael B. Jordan has starred in all five features Ryan Coogler has directed, including 'Sinners.' COURTESY OF WARNER BROS.
As the film builds toward its climactic showdown, the juke joint becomes a last stand—a place of communion, resistance, and transcendence. Vampiric carnage meets righteous vengeance, and the brothers’ bond is tested in heartbreaking, mythic fashion. Smoke’s arc in particular becomes a meditation on belief, redemption, and sacrifice.
The film’s final act doesn’t hold back. There’s gore, yes, but also poetry. A fiery standoff. An unexpected resurrection. An epilogue steeped in grief, ritual, and hope. And in true Coogler fashion, a post-credits reveal hints at an expanded universe steeped in supernatural Black history.
Sinners is unlike anything else in theaters this year. It’s a masterpiece of tone—balancing horror, history, myth, and soul. It’s a film about music’s power to wound and heal, to connect and divide. It’s about spirits that refuse to be silenced. It’s a reclamation of genre and narrative—a Southern Gothic that sings with rage, reverence, and defiance.
Rating: ★★★★½
Sinners
Release Date: Friday, April 18, 2025
Production companies: Proximity Media
Distribution: Warner Bros.
Cast: Michael B. Jordan, Hailee Steinfeld, Miles Caton, Jack O’Connell, Wunmi Mosaku, Jayme Lawson, Omar Miller, Li Jun Li, Delroy Lindo, Peter Dreimanis, Lola Kirke, Buddy Guy, Nathaniel Arcand, Saul Williams, Yao, Helena Hu, David Maldonado
Director-screenwriter: Ryan Coogler
Producers: Zinzi Coogler, Sev Ohanian, Ryan Coogler
Executive producers: Ludwig Göransson, Will Greenfield, Rebecca Cho, Pete Chiappetta, Andrew Lary, Anthony Tittanegro
Music: Ludwig Göransson
Rated R, 2 hours 18 minutes
