Sinners Review: A Masterful, Cinematic Tribute to Ancestors
My parents and I had been eagerly anticipating watching Ryan Coogler’s Sinners in movie theaters since we heard of its impending release. As a Black American family from the Northeast with ancestry from deep South and currently living in Georgia, this film was more than just a cool vampire flick. It was history. It was reckoning. And, for me, at least, it was a release—seeing the story of our pain and survival in a way non-Black filmmakers could not ever do. And after reading some reviews, non-Black film reviewers just do not understand the complexity of the lore, music, culture, and chalked it up to just another vampire movie.
Coogler was very intentional, and his research was incredibly thorough. So much symbolism I don’t know where to start. From the incredible casting to Autumn Durald Arkapaw’s magical cinematography, down to the most minute of details in the set, Sinners is extraordinary from start to finish. Literally. If you haven’t seen Sinners already, remember, do not leave the theater until the screen goes black because there are two wonderful end-credits waiting. Now, if you’ve dodged all of the spoilers on the internet thus far and want to continue to dodge them, then bookmark this review and come back after you’ve seen the film, because we’re about to do more than drip spoilers.
Michael B. Jordan as Stack, left, Smoke, right Credit: Sinners’ Film via IMDB
The Cast
Casting director, Francine Maisler and Coogler could not have assembled a better cast to perfectly embody every single character. Not only did Coogler conduct an unfathomable amount of research, but he consulted history and cultural experts to get everything just right.
Michael B. Jordon plays the Smoke-Stack Twins (Smoke and Stack) who return home to the deep South from Chicago. His portrayal of the identical twins was nothing short of stellar, embodying two entirely different personalities. In an interview, Coogler said the inspiration for the Smoke-Stack Twins comes from Ibeji, Orisha representing the divine twins in Yoruba spirituality. His own heritage is West African and his family, has many twins, including his mother’s older sisters.
The entire cast don’t support Smoke-Stack; they are literally the life of the story. Wunmi Mosaku as Annie, Smoke’s love interest and a Hoodoo practitioner brings exudes warmth, femininity, and a soft power. Hailee Steinfeld’s portrayal of Mary matches Stack’s fiery, almost reckless energy, especially as his “situationship” interest. Yao brings the charm and a quiet strength as Bo Chow, the Chinese grocery store owner whose family history is deeply tied to the Black community. His scenes with Grace Chow (played by Li Jun Li) feel so fluid, like a shared memory, calm, firm, and rooted in respect. And then there’s Miles Caton as Sammie “Preacher Boy” Moore, the blues prodigy who channels ancestral power through his music. Caton carries the emotional core of the film. And then there’s Jack O'Connell’s creepy yet charming performance as Remmick, the Irish vampire.
Storytelling Style
Something about Sinners felt familiar, but not in the usual way. It didn’t follow the typical Western three-act arc. Instead, the conflict and villain didn’t fully surface until later in the film. Then, I came across a video by TV and film reviewer Jay Samuto, explaining that Ryan Coogler was likely using an Eastern form of storytelling, Kishōtenketsu, which originated in China, but prevalent in Japan, Korea, Vietnam, and other parts of Asia. While traditional storytelling in the West is in three acts, Kishotenketsu tells a story in four acts. I recognized the Kishōtenketsu storytelling model from years of watching Chinese dramas, but I had no idea what it was.
In Sinner’s the villain isn’t revealed until the third act, even though we have an idea who the villain is, we don’t know for sure until he’s revealed and what his intentions are.
Chinese American – Black American Solidarity
During the Reconstruction Era, most Chinese immigrants came from Southern China’s Pearl River Delta 珠江三角洲 (Zhūjiāng Sānjiǎozhōu), fleeing socioeconomic disaster brought on by the Opium Wars that heavily effected Southern China. In Mississippi, Chinese immigrants primarily worked on plantations to replace freed Black folk with cheap labor. However, the Chinese, coming from an agricultural country, began opening grocery stores.
Freed Black Americans could not open businesses outright due to Black Codes and the despicable and exploitative sharecropping system, whereas Chinese immigrants were not yet seen as a threat to white supremacy. Chinese families and clans would pool their money together to start small businesses that filled a void, ie, grocery stores in Black communities. In addition, Chinese immigrants were not allowed to buy or rent homes in White neighborhoods. Therefore, they would either live behind or above their stores or bought or rented in Black neighborhoods.
Why is this important to the film? Because it shows how Chinese and Black American communities have been connected. Chinese immigrants had to navigate an unfamiliar socioeconomic dynamic: racial oppression and segregation. They adapted, much like Black Americans, having to code-switch. In the film, Bo and Grace Chow operated two grocery stores, one that served Black folk, which Bo operated and one that served White folk, which Grace ran, across the street from each other. When the Smoke-Stack twins came back to Mississippi, they could only buy food and supplies from Bo and Grace. And you can hear the difference in how Bo and Grace speak when interacting with Smoke.
Bo and Grace Chow’s ancestors appearing when Preacher Boy’s music tore through the veil symbolizes that solidarity.
Music
Blues being misrepresented as demonic mirrors how ancestral reverence in African spirituality has been mischaracterized the same way. Christianity was forced onto enslaved African people, branding their beliefs as evil. Yet, just like our spirituality, our music has always been with us—rooted deep, passed down, and never truly lost.
When Slim (played by Delroy Lindo), told his tale in the car ride to the juke joint, you could hear the sound of the chains, the tightening of the rope, and then he let out a deep UNNHHH, rhythm, and Stack told Preacher Boy in the back seat, “You got a guitar don’tchu?” The way I cried. And that beautifully, gut-wrenching scene was improvised.
When face to face with Remmick, Preacher Boy began reciting the prayer, “Our Father” thinking it would somehow protect him and/or his soul. But Remmick joins in to recite and continue the prayer, then tells Preacher Boy he knows those words because they were the same words they used to colonize his father’s land. Christianity was beaten into enslaved African Americans, telling us our spirituality was evil. But our spirituality, like our music, has always been with us.
Juke Joint Dance Scene
Preacher Boy’s music doesn’t just move bodies; it stirs spirits. It’s so powerful that it calls forth African and Chinese ancestors. In the gambling room, we see Sun Wukong chillin’. Then, a classical Chinese dancer flows across the screen, her Water Sleeve technique honoring traditional Chinese opera.
As the music intensifies, it tears through the fabric of time. We witness a fusion of African musical traditions—past, present, and future—all braided into Preacher Boy’s sound. The scene echoes the energy and motion of Ernie Barnes’ iconic painting, The Sugar Shack, famously used in Good Times, brought to life through physical dance.
In both African and Chinese cultures, honoring ancestors is more than ritual; it’s power. Preacher Boy’s music channels that power so strongly, it draws the attention of the vampire Remmick, who also wants to see his ancestors, but cannot.
The Choctaw Nation
The Choctaw Nation were forcibly removed from the Mississippi “relocating” them to what’s now Oklahoma. The reason we only saw Choctaw Nation People once, is for that very reason. It wasn’t just the vampire that made them need to leave before sundown. I thought their absence from the rest of the film was a part of the film. What I want to know is what they did to Remmick, because they definitely beat the breaks off him before he got to the house. Anyway, the way they left and didn’t return was a powerful message: you can’t save everybody.
Why Latin American Representation Was Absent
Amongst the many conversations online about Sinners, there are a few Latino American creators criticizing the film for its lack of Latino American representation while having a tamale store. While tamales can refer to the Latin American tamale, hot tamale is a dish that is distinctive to the Mississippi Delta.
The "Mexican Repatriation Act of 1929" isn't an official act, but rather a period of government-sponsored, and often coerced, mass deportations of Mexicans and Mexican Americans from the United States, primarily during the Great Depression (1929-1939). This is likely why there is an absence of Mexican immigrants in Sinners.
Conclusion
Sinners has so much more that I would have liked to cover: the vampire’s song and dance, the contrast of Christianity and Hoodoo, how Smoke and Stack likely caused the St. Valentines Day Massacre of 1929, the three crows—so much more! But I have to stop my fingers because I could ramble on and on about this film that got better and better, and even better after leaving the theater, provoking thought, consideration, and memories. There’s no doubt in my mind that Sinners was a love letter to ancestors to let them know we remember you.
I’m giving Sinners 11 stars out of 10 in this review because this film is nothing short of a cinematic masterpiece. Film schools, history teachers, and literature teachers are sure to add Sinners to their syllabuses in the near future.
