L-r: Jayme Lawson (Pearline), Wunmi Mosaku (Annie), Michael B Jordan (Smoke), Miles Caton (Sammie) and Li Jun Li (Grace Chow) | © 2025 Warner Bros

5 min read05 June

Horror movies are not my thing. If you, like me, avoid them, then you might be surprised (and perhaps unbothered) to discover our least favourite genre accounts for about 10 per cent of all films made. Having now seen the phenomenally successful Sinners, however, then I have to report that you might consider breaking that self-imposed “not for me” rule – especially if you are, as I am, a big fan of Michael B Jordan.

Drawn, like many, by his A-list star power, I was pleasantly surprised that this multilayered film has much more than just the obligatory “scare you witless” moments. Cinema seat reclined, and with the now modern-day option of beer in hand, I was ready to be entertained, and to be spooked.

As the film began, we were dazzled by the costume and cultural drama of the Mississippi Delta in the Jim Crow era. The two protagonists – twins Smoke and Stack, both played by Jordan – had returned south, slicked up and cash-rich from their gangster time in Chicago.

One might have expected our prodigal sons to return to the cotton-picking Delta of the 1930s only to confront the devilish Ku Klux Klan. But, in this twist on that familiar tale, the dark side comes from vampire bloodlust and an Irish fiddle. 

The backdrop bears all the historical hallmarks of a small Black town – religiously conservative, knowing and aware that their antagonistic white neighbours could turn on them in a heartbeat, including the infamous KKK.

This horror film, however, also happens to be a musical that includes Irish-inspired bluegrass music driven by the vampire leader, played by English-Irish actor Jack O’Connell. But the main musical backdrop is the Blues.

It wouldn’t be fair to give too much of the plot away, but the intricate storyline has many fascinating layers around race, including ‘colourism’ – the lighter you are, the more you’re allowed to get on – and belonging. And not just race, but also city and countryside. The notion of freedom is perversely, and yet cleverly, explored. The film, obviously made well before Donald Trump started his second presidency, plays on the religious fables of idolatry, demagogues and false prophets.

As human beings, we want easy answers to complex situations. The seduction of the ‘snake charmer’, that has (in this case) its own bite, is one we can readily understand. Then add love to this already complicated sorcerer’s pot – young love, abandoned love, and rekindled love all find space in this horror of many delights.

But let’s be clear: this film wouldn’t be a horror without the unsettling notion of the unexpected, and Sinners doesn’t disappoint. Although just when I thought all this scary stuff might be too much to bear – remember, horror’s really not my bag – a surreal, almost ludicrous, dance scene now demands of the audience, “Are we having fun?”

The notion of freedom is perversely, and yet cleverly, explored

For me, the big winner in the film is the Blues. If you want to best understand the joy, pain and resilience of the racist Jim Crow era in the US, then you listen to the Blues. The music is wonderful. One of the key protagonists is young Blues guitarist Sammie, played by Miles Caton, whose journey spans the movie as an allegory of the Black American experience; of survival against the odds.

Among the many urban legends and real-life stories that influence the film is the character of Sammie, who appears to be based on the legendary Blues singer Robert Johnson. The 1930s’ ‘King of the Delta Blues’, his hits include Me and the Devil Blues, Hellhound on My Trail and Preachin’ Blues (Up Jumped the Devil). 

Playing in local juke joints, Johnson’s music would have been seen as wicked and anti-Christian in the deeply conservative rural areas of the Mississippi Delta.

Sammie then is the personification of these old Deep South cultural tensions playing out between Christianity and the devil – reflecting the legend of Johnson’s unholy pact at the crossroads to play the Blues.

And then with a clever set of endings that does not ignore the old enemy – I’ll say no more – you could be forgiven for having that niggling, hanging question against all your sensibilities: did this Southern yarn really happen?

Lord Woolley of Woodford is a Crossbench peer and principal of Homerton College, Cambridge

Sinners

Written & directed by: Ryan Coogler

Broadcaster: General cinema release