Written and directed by Ryan Coogler
Who’s a sinner?
Is it Sammie (Miles Caton) who plays what his preacher daddy considers the devil’s music? Is it Smoke and Stack (Michael B. Jordan both), Sammie’s cousins, who’ve moved back from Chicago with some ill-gotten gains and now want to open a juke joint in an old mill in rural Mississippi? Is it the racist White man who sold them the mill, seeing as he’s likely involved in the local chapter of the KKK? Or is it the the vampires lurking outside that night’s grand opening, waiting to be invited in so they can suck the blood of all those sweating, reveling, laughing, dancing, and loving bodies inside?
It’s everyone and noone, says Ryan Coogler with Sinners, a genre-bender that features Black people walking their own path, telling their own stories, fighting foes real and fantastical, as well as figurative demons. It’s a historical drama, it’s a cycle-breaking romance, it’s a steamy raunch, it’s a zany comedy, it’s a grindhouse horror movie. It’s all of it, it’s none of it.
It’s certainly ambitious. Coogler has a lot of fires in the iron, and while there are plenty of sparks to behold in Sinners, it doesn’t quite build into flames because it has to feed oxygen to all these different elements and it dashes back and forth without enough care and consistency to really set things ablaze.
Thankfully, there is so much going on that you’re never bored and the many tangents that Coogler plays on turns proceedings into a funky, albeit disjointed riff that isn’t totally without merit. It’s actually in this messiness that it shines the most.
Because the daring and zeal does provide something vibrant, and it’s best summed up by one musical number wherein an acoustic blues tune grows into a confluence of instruments and musical styles spanning centuries and continents, all fusing into something visceral. It’s something to rival Outkast’s landmark B.O.B – no small feat – and this is where Sinners is best: taking big swings and pushing the boundaries of all it’s trying to do.
This unrestrained sense of artistic expression usually belongs in more independent productions and not major studio fare, making it a welcome subversion. It’s a rarity, unfortunately, as it’s the opposite with many other elements.
As both brothers, Jordan appears strong and broad enough to carry every consonant in Mississippi across his shoulders as he hasn’t shed his Creed-physique, and even if I can’t blame him, it does something to the immersion as he’s meant to be two men coming off WWI and the Great Depression.
It means there’s a lot of Hollywood in this Deep South setting and it goes beyond Jordan’s beefy appearance, with much of the tangibility of Sinners appearing just a shade nicer, just a bit glammier, than this gritty genre exercise warrants. The abandoned mill, spruced up in no time, features lightning bug lights and mason jar drinks, with all that’s missing is a Live Love Laugh sign hanging behind the stage upon which Sammie plays his lovely music, and for the chefs to wear black latex gloves.
Sinners is a rambunctious ride and a rarity as an original vision coming from a major studio. Coogler puts the privilege to use taking a swing – that’s to be appreciated – but execution leaves something to be desired, and what’s left is an impression of how important it really is to have a director whose vision goes all the way to the tiniest details so he’s able to conjure up something comprehensive, complete, and compelling.
It’s what could’ve lifted Sinners from good to great.
Mikkel Frederiksen 