No Substance #233: Ryan Coogler’s Sinners
I remember, back when Sinners was released, there were all these stories about how the film needed to make this or that number to break even. The numbers were all those stupid film numbers, 250 million this, 300 million that, as if most of us can comprehend what that kind of money does. But there was this conversation about it as if we’d ever asked to think about that much money when a film is released, or what that money might signal. It was framed as a criticism of Sinners, as if it were too lavish, or extravagant in this era of Marvel blockbusters or Tom Cruise sequels, when the real problem wasn’t that the film, or Coogler, the film’s director, was some modern day Cleopatra, it was that it might be a successful black film, and right now America isn’t a place where that can be celebrated.
It’s a shame because Sinners is a great film and American cinema, but presenting that narrative, has missed a chance to latch onto something popular and fun and original.
Sinners is set in Mississippi in 1932 and follows twin brothers Smoke and Stack, both played by Michael B. Jordan, who have returned from Chicago, from the mobs up there, from the war before, to set up a juke in their community. They’ve come with money, with stolen liquor, and with guns. At the start of the film they buy themselves a sawmill with the plan to open it that night, full of music and liquor and headed by their cousin, Sammie, a young blues musician who is played by Miles Caton. In doing so, they’ll rely upon the help of ex wives and lovers, friends, and Delroy Lindo, who plays the town’s local music legend, Delta Slim, to put on a great night.
Everything goes well for a while at the juke, but then the vampires show up, and things don’t go so well afterward. It’s how things generally go, really.
The lead vampire, Remmick, is an Irish vampire played by Jack O’Connell, and his introduction to the film is when Sinner’s narrative and thematic design become a little messy. Up until then, the film has been pretty spot on, but vampirism in Sinners occupies a metaphoric space as well as a literal space. In the metaphor space it is meant to represent colonialism, and in this particular case, a cultural colonialism. In Sinners, becoming a vampire takes the knowledge and abilities of those who become vampires and brings them into a colony of linked minds and experiences that they all share and cannibalise, mostly to the lead vampires benefit. It’s not the most subtle of metaphors, I admit, but honestly, it’s fine, though having an Irish vampire as the main villain is awkward when you consider Irish history and their own colonisation by the British. You can argue (and perhaps Coogler is arguing this through his film) that the Irish are a better choice because of their own musical history, and the running conversation throughout Sinners of the appropriate of black music and culture, but it never works fully, in my opinion, and I can think of cleaner ways to go about that conversation, but can’t every critic?
Music is an important part of Sinners so you can kinda see why the choice was made, even if I disagree with it. There’s lots of great musical pieces in Sinners, and the blues, in particular, are well showcased throughout. There’s a musical set piece in the middle of the film that brings in musicians from the past and future into the juke, and has them all playing together, and it’s pretty neat. For all the talk of various performances, or set pieces, to me this is the best part of the film, and it’s worth watching Sinners alone to watch it unfold. Still, it’s incorrect to call Sinners a musical, like some people have suggested. Sinners is a film where music is hugely important, and where it cannot be removed from the narrative, or events that take place, but it’s not a musical. To call it that is to show a misunderstanding of the musical genre, and the very real work and creativity that goes into it.
Sinners is, then, a horror film, and as a horror film, it’s a bit oddly shaped. The first half of the film is when it is at its best, and the horrors that are on display here haven’t anything to do with the supernatural. Shortly after their arrival, Smoke and Stack split up to accomplish their various tasks, and you’re introduced to the town and life around it, in particular the sharecropping, which feeds well into the metaphor of vampirism. However, this horror does little to push the narrative horror that fuels the other part of the film. Still, it’s pretty easy to forgive because Jordan gives an excellent performance of the two brothers, moving between the more steely, ruthless Smoke, to the fast talking, lustful Stack, and you’ll happily watch him organise a sign being painted, or convince Delta Slim to come and play at their place for that night.
In contrast, when Remmick, the film’s main horror figure appears, he does so suddenly and with the barest hint of a narrative sketched around him. You first see him fleeing a group of Choctaw vampire hunters. He shortly convinces a KKK couple take him in. The vampire hunters look great, and I really wanted more of them, but unfortunately it’s the only time you’ll see them. The couple on the other hand are turned by Remmick and come with him to for a small Irish group of travelling vampire singers. It’s a bit so so, really. Still, they let it drop that Smoke and Stack have bought the sawmill from the head of the KKK, and that they plan to kill them and their patrons. Sadly, when the Klan do appear, they do so as an afterthought and result in a bizarre, almost after the fact sequence that would have benefited from being brought into the main conflict of the film. It’s one of my main to criticisms of Sinners.
Sadly, my biggest criticism of Sinners is how it portrays women, especially women who aren’t black. People rightly criticise horror films for killing off the only black character, and for being token with their representations within narratives, and here within Sinners, the characters who are weak, or liabilities, and result in things going badly, are both women. The first of them is Hailee Steinfeld’s Mary, Stack’s ex-girlfriend whose grandfather was black, and who can pass as white. The second is Li Jun Li’s Grace, an Asian shop keeper. Both are responsible for the vampires getting into the juke, and are characters who flaws ultimately lead to the deaths of others, a trait that is not equally shared around the cast. It’s a real disappointment, because in many ways, Sinners is a thoughtful film, a film that even if it doesn’t succeed with all its choices, such as the Irish vampire, always gives you the impression that it has thought about them and made a choice. For all that Sinners does right, however, it’s portrayal of women isn’t one of the places where it’s at its best.
Still, for all that, it’s a really fine film. Sinners is it’s own unique beast that presents an original vision that I can only hope we see more of going forward.
Ben
(Ben Peek is the author of The Godless, Twenty-Six Lies/One Truth, and Dead Americans and Other Stories, amongst others. His most recent book is called The Red Labyrinth. His short fiction has appeared in Lightspeed, Clarkesworld, Nightmare Magazine, Polyphony, and Overland, as well as various Year’s Best Books. He’s the creator of the psychogeography ‘zine The Urban Sprawl Project. He also wrote an autobiographical comic called Nowhere Near Savannah, illustrated by Anna Brown. He lives in Sydney, Australia.)