Film Review: Sinners (10/10)

Ari Brisbon
6 days ago
6 min read

Coogler's Vampire Masterpiece

Feel that vibe? That electric hum in the lobby? That’s the energy that had everyone going back to the movie theaters for this one. I’m talking about that feeling where you know you’re about to see something special before the lights even dim. Grab your popcorn, your sour patches (I’d prefer the watermelons—don't judge), and get ready for that classic cinematic experience like back in the days.

It has been a long time since we’ve had a true "original event film"—something that isn’t a sequel, a reboot, or part of a 20-film saga. Writer/Director Ryan Coogler has stepped up to the plate and created something that will easily be talked about, dissected, and studied under a close lens for years to come. Sinners isn’t just a horror movie; it’s a cultural moment. Starring unforgettable performances from Michael B. Jordan, Miles Caton, Delroy Lindo, Hailee Steinfeld, and Wunmi Mosaku, this film is a triumph that redefines what a blockbuster can be in 2025.

STORY (2/2)

What makes a person a sinner? Is it what they do, or what they fail to do? This film’s narrative is like peeling an onion—layer by terrifying layer. With a patient and deliberate pace, Coogler creates a tension that unfolds organically rather than forcing it with cheap jump scares or loud noises.

The film transports us back to the Jim Crow South of the 1930s, a setting that is terrifying enough on its own before the supernatural elements even creep in. We follow twin brothers (both played by Jordan) who return to their hometown seeking a fresh start, only to find that the past isn’t just haunting them—it’s hunting them. The town is gripped by a fear of something ancient, something that lives in the shadows of the bayou.

Instead of relying on high-octane action throughout, Sinners leans heavily into atmosphere and character-driven storytelling. It takes its time. It lets you sit on the porch with these characters, feel the humidity, and understand the complex social dynamics of the town. This buildup is crucial because when the horror finally breaks loose, the stakes feel astronomically high. We care about these people. The acting is this film's core essential element that brings structure to the supernatural chaos. From each character's internal struggles to their bloody resolutions, it binds the audience's suspension of disbelief, almost casting a spell on us for undivided attention.

Using a specific genre like vampires... let's be honest, it can either work beautifully or it can crash and burn. It’s a high-wire act. But the fact that Coogler uses the vampire mythos not just as a monster movie trope, but as a window to tell a more gratifying story rich in culture, history, and wonderment is genius. Hats off to him for such creative authenticity.

VISUALS (2/2)

Autumn Durald Arkapaw fully earns every ounce of praise she has received for her work as the film’s cinematographer. She doesn't just shoot the movie; she paints it. In Sinners, the lighting and framing are used deliberately to show the film’s central themes of duality and confinement.

The use of shadows here is masterful. We aren't talking about "too dark to see" cinematography; we are talking about heavy, rich shadows that feel like characters themselves. The soft color palettes—sepias, deep greens, and blood reds—create an atmosphere of restriction, mirroring the emotional and psychological confinement of the characters living in a segregated society. You can almost feel the dust in the air and the sweat on the brow in every close-up.

When the camera finally widens, it feels purposeful, signaling moments of clarity, truth, or release. There are shots in the moonlit fields, with fog rolling over the swamp, that are hauntingly beautiful yet absolutely terrifying. The contrast between the warm, golden hues of the juke joint scenes (representing life and community) and the cold, blue steel of the night sequences (representing the predator) creates a visual language all its own. The visuals don’t merely enhance the narrative; they actively shape and communicate it. I was completely impressed and found myself just glued to the screen until the final frame. Sinners does not disappoint in the visual department; it is cinema in its purest form.

Sinners Popcorn & Pages Review image 3 Couple dancing closely in a dimly lit room, surrounded by other dancers. Warm lights hang from the ceiling, creating an intimate mood.

SOUND (2/2)

There is a reason why composer Ludwig Göransson is on almost every Coogler project. He understands the assignment every single time. Here, he orchestrates a soundscape that can be understated yet deeply, unsettlingly impactful.

The music is employed sparingly, giving space to silence. And in a horror movie, silence is your enemy. The sound team utilizes ambient nature sounds—the chirp of crickets, the rustle of wind through the Spanish moss, the distant thud of footsteps—to build a tension that is almost unbearable. You find yourself straining to hear what’s in the dark, just like the characters on screen.

When the score does emerge, it enhances key emotional moments without overwhelming them. Göransson does something incredible here, combining generational lineage inside the music arc—blending blues, gospel, and terrifying orchestral swells. He utilizes period-accurate instrumentation—slide guitars, harmonicas, stomping feet—but twists them into something sinister and otherworldly. In one particular shot, the sound design truly resonates with the foundation of the film's storytelling, bridging the gap between the historical setting and the horror elements. You hear the rhythm of a train track merging with the heartbeat of the scene, creating a driving force that propels the terror forward. This careful restraint grounds the film in realism and deepens its immersive quality, making Sinners stand on its own sonically.

CHARACTER (2/2)

Let's talk about the elephant in the room: Michael B. Jordan. He has given a performance—actually, two performances as twin brothers Smoke and Stack—that puts him in the realm of an actor who can play absolutely anything. The details in the mannerisms are subtle but distinct. Smoke is hardened, weary, carrying the weight of the world; Stack is hopeful, perhaps a bit naive, looking for redemption. The way Jordan shifts his posture, his cadence, and even the light in his eyes between the two roles is masterclass work. You genuinely forget you are watching the same actor. This is why he is Coogler's go-to guy to carry the lead.

But that doesn't take away from the ensemble presence as well. The supporting cast is stacked. Hailee Steinfeld and Wunmi Mosaku completely held their own in such authentic fashion. Mosaku, in particular, brings a grounded strength that serves as the moral compass of the film.

However, I have to give special credit to Miles Caton (playing Sammie) and the legendary Delroy Lindo. These two stole the show for me. Seeing these two different generations of actors play off each other was electric. Lindo brings a gravitas that anchors the film’s mythology—he feels like he has lived in this town for a hundred years. Caton brings a youthful, frenetic energy that makes the stakes feel personal and urgent. Their connection transitions the story carefully into utter mayhem. The characters in Sinners feel raw and grounded, shaped by imperfection rather than idealism. No one is portrayed as flawless, which makes them deeply believable. When they bleed, you feel it.

FACTOR X (1.5/2)

Sinners does not seek to comfort its audience; instead, it confronts them. This is where the "X Factor" comes in. The film lingers well beyond its final moments, prompting reflection on morality, forgiveness, and whether redemption is something earned or freely given.

Its power lies not in spectacle—though the vampire action is visceral and terrifying—but in its unflinching honesty regarding the scars of the past. It takes the vampire myth, which is often used just for scares or romance, and turns it into a potent metaphor for what consumes us. It asks: Can we ever really outrun our sins? Or do they just wait for us in the dark?

Ultimately, Sinners suggests that true growth begins with confronting the truth rather than avoiding it. The film asserts that recognizing one’s flaws is the essential first step toward transformation. At its core, it is a meditation on accountability, resilience, and the complicated nature of being human—wrapped in a terrifying, Southern Gothic vampire mythos that feels fresh, vital, and unlike anything else in theaters right now.

Sinners is a powerful and thought-provoking film that values substance over spectacle. Through compelling performances, purposeful visuals, and layered storytelling, it delivers a message that feels both deeply personal and universally resonant. It isn’t merely a film to be watched—it’s one that invites reflection long after it ends. It reminds us why we go to the movies in the first place: to be scared, to be moved, and to be changed.

If you consider yourself a fan of cinema, you owe it to yourself to see this. Turn the lights off, turn the sound up, and let it wash over you.