Sinners (Christian Movie Review)

Director Ryan Coogler elevates the film to something greater than a collection of familiar genre tropes, though some sexually explicit material and a sharp commentary on religion might give Christian viewers pause.   

About the Film 

Before the days when vampire stories bore the stigma of sparkly-skinned heartthrobs and love triangles, they occupied a cherished position in the literary and cinematic canon. The best horror stories have always wrestled with uncomfortable truths or societal anxieties. The brashly titled film Sinners arrives with a fair amount of positive buzz. For the most part, director Ryan Coogler elevates the film to something greater than a collection of familiar genre tropes, although some sexually explicit material and a sharp commentary on religion might give Christian viewers pause.   

Sinners begins as a prohibition-era period drama, with the action unfolding over the course of a single day and night. The notorious Smokestack twins (both played by Michael B. Jordan) are back in town to set up a “juke joint” for a night of blues music, drinking, and dancing. The film’s first act establishes the interconnected relationships between the characters attending the party. Then some sublime blues music tears the veil between life and death and releases the vampires (oops!). It’s a bit jarring when the supernatural creatures arrive and the story transitions to a more conventional horror flick. In some ways, the film becomes less interesting once the earlier character drama fades into the background and the film veers into the more familiar territory of horror and bloody carnage, although it ultimately finds its way to a wild third act.    

Much of the film’s pre-release hype was due to the talent of its director, Ryan Coogler (Black Panther, Creed). On the surface, Sinners is a movie that has been made dozens of times before. Yet it feels fresh thanks to Coogler’s distinctive touch. His camerawork and scene blocking are excellent, the product of a visionary director operating at his highest level. The film was shot with IMAX cameras, which lends a sense of scope and grander to the visuals that is rarely seen in period dramas. But perhaps Coogler’s greatest contribution to the film is achieving a synergy between the music and visuals that is unlike any other horror film in recent memory. The film’s showstopping scene—an extended, unbroken sequence that transports viewers on a journey through the history of black music—is one of the most memorable sequences of the year.   

Actor Michael B. Jordan and director Ryan Coogler are one of Hollywood’s great creative parings, and they unite again with Jordan pulling double duty as both “Smokestack” twins. He’s a great actor, so watching two of him is a treat. Yet Sinners largely lacks a clear protagonist or “good guy” (at least, not one that Christian audiences would recognize). The characters are interesting and nuanced, but they are also flawed and motivated by immoral desires. It’s an interesting creative choice that yields mixed results. In one scene, a dispirited character is assured that they’re all sinners, which echoes biblical truth (Romans 3:23).   

On the other hand, one of the film’s central themes subverts expectations and embraces the “sinners” title as a positive. Whereas many traditional horror films have connected the horror elements to immoral deeds, Sinners takes the opposite approach. Unrestrained “sin” is the normative state, and the apparent “evil” comes from outside forces that are seeking to limit such freedom. The vampires largely come to represent “organized religion” (imposed on the black community from racist white people), and the key to defeating them is embracing a more individualistic, pagan spirituality (see themes below). Thus, when a young man—the son of a preacher—has sex with a married woman, the act is seen as a liberating victory over oppressive religious restrictions.  

While it doesn’t live up to the lofty hype and acclaim, there is no question that Sinners is a well-made (if a bit overstuffed) film that offers striking visuals and some subversive thematic ideas for audiences to ponder. From a Christian perspective, the movie is murky. I have always considered movies to be “conversations,” a dialogue between a filmmaker and the audience. At a time when most movies offer little more than mindless spectacle, Sinners is a film with something interesting to say, even if Christians ultimately choose not to buy what it’s selling.  

Individual Spirituality v. Traditional Religion    

On the surface, Sinners is a conflict between people and vampires. On a deeper thematic level, the conflict is between two opposing understandings of religion and spirituality. The film’s opening scene takes place in a quaint church as the congregation sings “This Little Light of Mine.” Yet the moment is intercut with unsettling flashes of horror, which makes the church appear ominous, a connection that is strengthened throughout the film.   

“Organized religion” is shown to be largely powerless, a force of oppression rather than of liberty. Conversely, individualistic, pagan spirituality is elevated as an ultimate good. For example, superstitious practices like eating garlic effectively repel the vampires, but when a character begins to recite Psalm 23, the vampires happily join in, expressing that it “brings them comfort.”   

The film’s title is something of a misnomer. If there is no clear religious standard, then there is no “sin.” Thus, the spirituality the film embraces lacks substance or any moral demand. It offers ambiguous protection (a man wears charms around his neck for protection) and insight (the wisest character is the one most in tune with the superstitious arts). But it also allows for sexual promiscuity, drunken revelry, and the pursuit of other hedonistic desires. Individuals are accountable only to themselves and their passions.   

Blues music also plays an important, symbolic role. The genre is established as important because it “belongs to” and was “created” by the black community. The scene in which the vampires are summoned begins with a blues song before the scene shifts into an overview of black music history that introduces several anachronistic musical elements (rock and roll, tribal dancing, modern DJ music, hip hop, and twerking). The inclusion of an Asian character in the scene (and traditional Asian dance) further solidifies the point. Heritage being threatened is evil. Notably, the initial three vampires are white, with the vampire leader—implied to have Irish roots—remarking on how Christian religion was introduced to his country.    

The film drives this theme home during the ending when the camera cuts between a scene of a character violently enacting vengeance on a group of KKK members and a young black musician choosing to resist the church to follow his own path. The two prime evils in the film—racism and religion—are thus forcefully rejected.  

Notably, the vampires must be invited into the building; they cannot enter by force. Once they do claim a victim, they become connected as a sort of hive-mind. In that way, the film implies that “letting the devil in” is a choice. Freedom can be found by rejecting external cultural advances.