Sinners

Sinners isn't your typical horror. It's soaked in sweat, blues, and black excellence. Think 24 hours of beauty and chaos - where freedom feels close, but sin feels closer. Ryan Coogler didn't just direct a film, he built a vibe. The twins? Played by the same actor, but felt like two different souls. The performances? Hailee Steinfeld kiss, wow. Dialogue? Fast, slick, sharp - like a jazz solo that cuts through silence.

This film doesn't hold your hand. You gotta lean in, feel the room, and ride the rhythm. There's a message under the madness - about legacy, temptation, and the price of stepping outside the lines.

Now, the vampire thing? I won't lie - felt like a stretch. Stylish, sure, but I wasn't sold on the metaphor. Still, the film carries itself with so much black flavor and focus that you forgive the weird. One-takes were clean, the sound was spiritual, and the whole thing hums like an old jukebox with a soul of its own.

Sinners doesn't preach - it performs. And it leaves you wondering if maybe, just maybe... sin was the only freedom left.

The beginning, slow, introducing 'thousands' of characters, sets perfectly the mood; the use of music in the plot is great; the actors do a great job (even if I am not of a fan of the need for two Michael B. Jordans (even if he is a great actor); the action is well done.

Not all is perfect, though, as the characters behave erratically, suiting the necessities of the plot more than behaving coherently. The change of pace can also be jarring. And even if the movie is more than two hours long, you might feel more advantage could've been taken from the amazing set up. But with so great music, so good all the elements (direction, acting, photography...), you will probably not care. Ryan Coogler has done a very good movie.

'Sinners' starts in a church, but doesn't spend too long explicitly focusing on religion, god and the devil - but does explore these themes in the semi-segregated world of 1932 Mississippi. We start with Sammie/"Preachers Boy" (Caton) and then are introduced to his notorious cousins who have just returned from Chicago - twins Smoke & Stack, both played by Jordan, who clearly relishes the run he gets to have. He plays them both subtly different enough that you can tell who's who.

It all occurs in one day, with the first hour setting the scene well, as we're introduced to ex-girlfriends - Mary (Steinfeld) and Annie (Mosaku) - plus Slim (Lindo) and Cornbread (Miller), who are brought in to help Smoke & Stack open up their "Juke" bar. Key to everything is Sammie, his guitar and the blues. We're then introduced to Remmick (O'Connell), who is a charming Irishman, hiding a sinister secret.

I won't spoil the twist, but it doesn't take long for the film to turn to a horror, and does well to start off with a bit of tension and suspense and then go full blown bloody action/fight/gore. Holding it together is the great soundtrack and score, with the music great throughout. Just over 2 hours, but never boring - solidly wrapped up, some great scenes. Stay after the initial credits, as there's a ~5min final scene.

Seeing a director have the courage to create a unique, visionary blend of two opposite genres is something you rarely see these days. And I love it. Southern America blues and vampires.

The standout here being the incredible soundtrack from no other than Ludwig Göransson. The sexy, bluesy tone is definitely my favourite thing of the film. It was the glue that kept the film going. The film was reminiscent of O'brother Where Art Thou with a healthy dose of From Dusk Till Dawn.

The patience in the first act to set up the thematic relationships and overall story was executed perfectly. Even though we all were expecting the "reveal" to come, the journey to get to that point was arguably the better part of the film.

What separates (and elevates) this film from your standard supernatural horror flick is the fact that the director chose to spend more time in the first act developing our and exploring our characters.

However, in saying this I do feel like the film in the end of the second and entire third act fell into the cliches that they vampire genre usually entails. The last minute sunrise for example or the character who knows all the ins-and-outs of killing a vampire.

I believe at this point the film lost a bit of spark that the first act patiently created.

I still love what Coogler did. The unique genre blend, soundtrack and setting is enough to warrant the praise.

Best film of 2025?

You came in expecting fangs, stakes, blood, smoking crucifixes and girls screaming. You imagined an arty version of Blade, with Michael B. Jordan staking vampires between sets of push-ups.

Well, guess what, buddy? Surprise: you walked into a Ryan Coogler film that serves you blues, poetry, and Black pain like a sacred offering.

The film plays like The Legend of 1900 remixed by Robert Johnson mid-satanic pact. The horror? It's a metaphor. The monsters? Symbols. And you, the viewer? A willing victim who realizes twenty minutes in that you're not watching a slasher... you're deep in a mystical odyssey shot like a fever dream on opium.

Twins. One actor. Zero missteps. No crappy green screen, no clunky split-screen from The Parent Trap. Nah-this is clean, surgical, fluid. You'd swear the guy was cloned in a cave by a Shaolin monk.

And the wildest part? He plays both brothers with completely different energies. One radiates light, the other broods darkness, and both exude elegance and pain in equal measure. This isn't acting-it's black magic. At this level, it's no longer performance-it's full-blown demonic possession captured in 4K.

Want originality? You got it. No looped rap tracks like in 99% of U. S. films about Black characters. Here, it's the blues. The real stuff. The kind that comes from guts, chains, cotton fields, and dust. And believe me-it cuts deeper than a Slash guitar solo strung with prison wire.

Every note haunts you. Every chord summons ghosts. The music is a doorway between worlds, a call to the Old Ones, a ritual that raises goosebumps. Ryan Coogler delivers a film where the score isn't just background-it's a damn hex. You don't listen-you endure it. And you want more.

There's one scene. Just one. But my God. Straight into the cinematic hall of fame.

The party scene.

At once orgiastic, sacred, primal and cosmic. It's Eyes Wide Shut in the bayou. There's voodoo, groove, bodies melting together, lurking entities, and a one-take shot that knocks the wind out of you like three shots of mezcal and a bad peyote trip.

It's not just well-made-it's divine. Filmed from the gut, edited with fire and silence, it grabs your stomach and wrings out your spine. The kind of scene that makes you believe God listens to the blues in a sweaty Louisiana basement.

We love Coogler. But someone needs to tell him: bro, your intro plays like an episode of Murder, She Wrote. You wanna build atmosphere? Fine. But don't make us wait an hour with "Twins Return to the Village and Do Mystical Gardening."

It drags. It stretches. You wait for the film to kick in like you're waiting for meaningful reform in France. Meanwhile, flashbacks hit every ten minutes, reminding you that pain is apparently a damn art form.

It's noble, it's deep-but man, it's long. This needed some trimming, less Terrence Malick meditation, and a bit more fang in this occult fable.

You came for chills, you got a full-on spiritual initiation drilled into your spinal cord.

Sinners promises the Devil, delivers the blues, and implants visions in your mind. It's slow to start, yeah.

But when it hits... it hits like a sermon from Hell.

It's not a slap. It's an incantation. A trance. A film that doesn't scare you-but follows you into your dreams like a damned old bluesman whispering in your ear with B. B. King's voice and the stare of a demon.

And that's when you get it: When you dance with the Devil long enough... It's not him coming to you- It's you who opens the door.