Sinners (2025)
Sinners is a bit hard to describe because it is doing so many things at once. It juggles strong musical elements, a multi-faceted story, a strong horror narrative and a stellar amount of racial commentary. The results are generally fantastic.
In the film, music is explored as a number of things: cultural genealogy, a force of healing, and generational trauma. The final example is made clear when it is revealed that, for the duration of the film, the gentle blues musician Sammie (Miles Caton) has been playing a guitar that once belonged to his cruel and wicked uncle.
Our vampire villains are very intriguing, visually and conceptually. Though our chief villain is a bit of a mystery, his immortality and the song choice of "The Rocky Road to Dublin" suggest he may hail from as far back as the mid-19th century. The general form of the vampire has not changed substantially for this film, but the movie nonetheless manages to be inventive in its deployment of these tropes.
The vampirism presented in the movie acts as fertile ground for racial commentary, particularly on the relationship between colonizers and their victims.
Much like slave masters did, the vampires view themselves as saviors. Vampirism also acts as a good analog for the predatory relationship that has existed between white financiers and black creatives. The vampires are also ageless and a hive mind; the colonizers culturally immortalize themselves, offering incorporation, not integration. The colonizer, protected by a powerful and interconnected system, is impervious to conventional means of attack, much like the vampires absorbing bullet after bullet. Both are fundamental deceivers, preaching kindness with blades hidden behind their backs.
Our villain even recites the false promise of the colonizer: "I am your way out. This world already left you for dead. Won't let you build. Won't let you fellowship. We will do just that. Together. Forever."
Most importantly, the vampires, much like the colonizer, seek to systematically exploit and extract anything of value from black culture. They don't want to participate; they want ownership. This, too, is stated plainly by our villain: "I want your stories and I want your songs."
The film's period setting is key in many ways. With segregation still enforced, there was a creation of large forbidden zones, relegating black people to their own world. The film depicts a response to that: a business built by black owners for black patrons. Their attitude towards white customers may seem strange through a modern lens, but our characters are ultimately vindicated in their skepticism.
The dialogue, despite a certain level of modernity, is consistently impeccable; in fact, it should be noted that in places the modernity of the dialogue is a legitimate asset: "The fuck you going, nigga? Bet this bullet will beat you there."
The performances were strong across the board, but the dark star of the show is Jack O’Connell; the reviewer has enjoyed O’Connell’s past roles and found this to be a more than worthy addition. He perfectly embodies both the preying, wicked white man as well as an ageless vampire. Notably, O’Connell manages to elicit a few laughs, seen in such moments as his hokey, disingenuous display at the front door.
Color choices for the film are rich and highlight the fire and rising sun well. One informative tracking shot follows a character across the street from one store to another, acting as a strong visual of a family juggling businesses. The film also makes the significant decision to have a dynamic aspect ratio; this was creatively bold but perhaps not utilized to the fullest possible effect.
In a post-credits scene, an aged Sammie shows a healthy attitude toward the prospect of immortality: "I think I've seen enough of this place." With plenty to say and all the right music to accompany it, Sinners is worth indulging in.