Where Horror Meets Humanity: Sinners Reviewed

Hey girlfriend! This weekend, I finally got to watch Sinners, starring Michael B. Jordan, and whew—what a ride! Before I dive in, let me give you a fair warning: there are some spoilers in this review, so if you haven’t seen it yet, bookmark this for later and come back when you're ready to unpack!

Now, if you have seen it, you probably loved it and were still thinking about it on the ride home. Same here. I could not wait for Sinners to drop. I just knew it was going to blow minds from the moment I saw a teaser of MBJ firing off an old-school automatic weapon in a tank top. But what I wasn’t ready for was the complexity of the story and how stunning the cinematography would be. Coogler nailed it!

The film opens with a heavy dose of foreshadowing: our main character, Sammie (played by Miles Caton), stumbles into a church—bloodied, bruised, and clutching a broken guitar. The pastor, who we later learn is his father, urges him to let it go and reject evil. From there, the entire movie unfolds as a flashback leading us up to that intense moment. The pacing? Chef’s kiss—gradual but gripping.

Michael B. Jordan plays twin brothers, Smoke and Stack. Yes, BOTH. Five stars off that alone. There's an understated good vs. evil duality between them. They’ve returned to the South from Chicago to open a juke joint, “Clubbers,” and split up to handle different tasks before the grand opening.

The first half of the movie, set during the daytime, is where we meet the rest of the cast—who feel so authentic, you’d swear they were pulled from actual Southern roots. The only real complaint I heard was about MBJ’s accent, but otherwise, the styling—cars, outfits, hairstyles, attitudes—is spot-on. From the drunk musical genius to the rebellious preacher’s kid, the flirtatious married women, the slick, double-dealing white man, the white-passing Black beauty, and the grounded, mystical “good witch” doctor—you get a full, flavorful portrayal of the early 18th-century South.

As the day rolls on, there’s this warm, rhythmic easygoing vibe. If you didn’t know what was coming, you’d think, What could possibly go wrong? But of course, the trailer warned us: everything.

Once night falls, the tempo is in full throttle. We meet a mysterious, burned man fleeing from Native Americans. He stumbles upon a Klan household and is welcomed in. The Native leader tries to warn the couple that they’re harboring evil—but it's already too late. Meanwhile, Clubbers is buzzing. Musicians jam, drinks flow—and in the shadows, the evil lurks. One by one, our characters are picked off and turned into vampires, creating their own f*cked up, musical Cullen family. We lose everyone we’ve grown to known and love, including Stack.

What truly makes this movie sing (pun intended) is its cinematography and writing. There are powerful close-ups, like Smoke holding Stack’s lifeless, bloodied body, or Sammie effortlessly strumming his guitar with aching beauty. The also interesting lighting choices that add a whole mood: sometimes faces are half in shadow or completely obscured, amping up the tension. Intense scenes are cut just short of what we expect, keeping us anxious and guessing. It’s artfully layered. Even the intimate scenes walk a fine line. They're sexy without being vulgar, modest yet magnetic. The dialogue—profanity included—feels natural, even poetic at times. It becomes its own dialect, giving the film its raw edge.

As dawn approaches, the surviving characters are freed from their vampiric possession—but not from the trauma. There’s a soft, mellow wind-down, offering a sense of peace amidst the chaos. It’s wild to realize everything unfolded over just 24 hours. We’ve seen heartbreak, love, horror, and hope. And somehow, after all the darkness, we’re still left feeling like maybe—just maybe—it was all meant to happen.

That’s the core of what Sinners is about to me: the grey area between good and evil. The movie constantly blurs the lines. Even up to the last scene where Sammie shares that although he still has nightmares of that night, it was the best day of his life. Audiences are forced to consider the balance— the yin and yang— within all things. How intentions and outcomes can clash, and how both light and darkness can live in the same person.

Characters trying to do the right thing, like the couple who unknowingly saved the vampire, still fall victim to evil. But they were Klansmen, so was it what they deserved after all? This theme of contradiction is best reflected in the dynamic between Smoke and Stack, symbolized by their red and blue hats— almost a nod to the Matrix’s pills. They're gangsters, yes, but they use their money to uplift the community. Smoke might seem like the “good” twin and Stack the “bad,” especially since one becomes a vampire and the other doesn’t—but it’s never that simple. Smoke is bitter but loyal to his woman. Stack, seemingly cold, turns out to be fiercely protective over his lover. Smoke wants to run a tight business; Stack wants people to enjoy life regardless of their riches. In the end, Smoke kills his own wife to save her soul and executes Klan members Scarface style, and Stack—who was always the rouge one—spares Sammie, honoring his brother’s wish. So, who’s really good? Who’s really bad? It’s complicated—and that’s the point.

The most haunting moment is when Sammie, facing death, starts reciting the Lord’s Prayer—only to have the vampire overlord join in. He even says the “word” brings him comfort. They’re waist-deep in water, almost as if standing in a baptismal font. It's chilling and profound. This also critiques the role of religion, especially its weaponization during slavery. Sammie’s father, a pastor, urges him to give up music, despite it being his undeniable gift. He tells him that if he continues to ‘dance with the Devil, one day the Devil will follow him home’, which he is not wrong about. Sammie’s song is what attracts the vampires to Clubbers. When Sammie plays, we witness a transcendent moment connecting African and African American cultures, even a bit of Asian, connected throughout time— proving that music is more than art. It’s resistance. It’s survival. It’s freeing. And it is spiritual. So is Sammie sinful for pursuing his calling, or righteous for sharing it despite the risk? The film leaves that up to us.

Final Thoughts:

Sinners is more than a horror film. It’s soulful, intimate, and thought-provoking. Yes, it’s bloody. Yes, it’s wild. But it’s also romantic, funny, musical, and smart. It’s alive. It’s the kind of movie you have to see for yourself—and then process for days afterward.

As Jay Suave said in his review, we do wish we got more backstories regarding the vampires and the woman Sammie was sweet on. But honestly, there’s more than enough here to chew on—and plenty to make us hungry for a sequel, or should I say prequel?