Based on the shock of its box office performance during Easter weekend, few could have predicted the success of writer, director and USC alum Ryan Coogler’s vampire period film “Sinners.” Although finding success in the “Black Panther” and “Rocky” franchises, Coogler and Michael B. Jordan — starring as twin brother criminals Smoke and Stack — tackled an original concept from the former, who brought personal interests and experiences to the forefront.
One of those interests is blues music, a popular genre in Jim Crow Mississippi, where the film takes place. Inspired by his late uncle who introduced him to blues, Coogler took the genre’s power and made it a driving force in “Sinners.”
With support from composer, USC alum and Coogler’s frequent collaborator Ludwig Göransson, Coogler and his team use music to show how minority cultures in the United States were targeted by hostile white Americans — while allowing the movie’s characters to reclaim their culture in little victories.
Twins Smoke and Stack return to their home in the Mississippi Delta after a shady stint in Chicago. Looking to put their mob past behind them, they pursue their dream of opening up a juke joint out of an abandoned sawmill and enlist their blues-singing cousin, Sammie (Miles Caton) to help them. But their opening night goes south when Remmick, an Irish vampire (Josh O’Connell), comes knocking, seeking Sammie and his talent.
The Mississippi Delta is the home of the blues, paving the way for singers including Muddy Waters. However, it is less known for its contributions to genres such as rock and roll, where bands like Led Zeppelin and The Rolling Stones based their sound around blues. “Sinners” seeks to rectify that, bringing that history into the spotlight.
Before matters escalate, Sammie and, in extension, Caton’s prowess are on full display on the score’s tracklist, ranging from “Travelin’” to “This Little Light of Mine.” His rendition of the latter reflects his character’s struggle balancing his passion for blues and his Christian faith, an escape for people living on his plantation that echoes real-world history.
At the same time, Sammie struggles to run away from his pastor father, who wants him to give up his music and follow in his footsteps. On the other side, Remmick wants to turn him into a vampire and absorb his talent, leaving behind a painful life on the plantation but also leaving behind a potential escape through music.
However, Coogler’s script gives nuance to Remmick, whose Irish ancestry gets similarly highlighted through an unexpected dance scene that’s a far cry from the blues. O’Connell not only sings the 19th century Irish folk song “The Rocky Road to Dublin,” but also performs a traditional Irish jig as Göransson’s 808s give the reinterpretation an added kick. In a movie centered around blues music, the switch-up showcases how central music is for any given culture.
Like other minorities during the period and featured in the movie, Irish people faced persecution from Americans as they immigrated in the late 19th century. That history of otherness gets addressed towards the finale when Remmick tempts Sammie out of his prayer, sharing how Christianity was weaponized against his people, which in turn set a precedent for the longstanding cultural struggle between Ireland and Britain.
The centerpiece of “Sinners,” a hallucinatory scene where Sammie plays “I Lied to You” in the juke joint and conjures up musicians of all decades, doubles as the movie’s equivalent of a cornucopia. Beginning with an electric guitar à la Jimmi Hendrix, Caton’s deep voice guides the audience through West Coast synthesizers, Djembe Drums and a high note from Caton that fades into a distorted auto-tune. On top of being Coogler’s boldest swing as a filmmaker, it’s the film’s tipping point, becoming half-musical, half-horror but with the first act’s themes intact.
Another key moment in the juke joint is when Pearline (Jayme Lawson) takes the stage and stomps until the entire venue shakes on “Pale, Pale Moon.” Pearline’s name is already a nod to a song of the same name by Son House, a blues singer, Mississippi Delta native and preacher’s son who inspired Coogler to write Sammie. But “Pale, Pale Moon” is one of the first hints at the score’s combination of music from the past and present, injecting hip-hop production and Ozzy Osbourne-esque laughs into blues music.
Things may not go well for most characters in “Sinners.” However, Coogler’s respect for the diverse cast and music, Black, Irish or otherwise, exposes audiences to underrepresented history. When even the transition from delicate blues guitar strings to roaring Metallica riffs tells its own story independent of the main narrative, what could have been an empty blockbuster about vampires and the Jim Crow South becomes a testament to preservation.