Let’s get one thing straight: this obsession started with the March 2025 issue of GQ. That magazine cover stopped me cold—Michael B. Jordan eerily staring back at me, and I thought, Wait, he’s in Sinners? I had no idea. That moment alone pushed me to see the movie. I’d heard rumors: real hoodoo on set, intense rituals, unsettling energy. But if you’re stepping into a supernatural horror film, you expect a little danger. Just don’t get too drawn in—and you’ll be fine.
by Kaylene Peoples, Editor in Chief, AGENDA Magazine
(Originally published under #myfunmoviereviews)

From the very first scene, Sinners pulls you in. It moves. And no spoilers, I promise.
Written and directed by Ryan Coogler, Sinners marks his first fully original screenplay since Fruitvale Station. Known for grounding genre storytelling in cultural and emotional truth, Coogler draws from his own heritage—particularly the music and spirituality of the Mississippi Delta—to shape this haunting narrative. His personal connection to the material is felt throughout, from the film’s Southern gothic tone to its pulsing, ancestral energy. As both writer and director, Coogler delivers a story that feels mythic and intimate all at once.
Sinners centers on twin brothers Elijah “Smoke” and Elias “Stack” Moore (both played by Michael B. Jordan), war-worn and world-weary WWI vets, who return to Clarksdale, Mississippi to start over. Their dream? A juke joint pulsing with life. They’re joined by their cousin, Sammie “Preacher Boy” Moore, a gifted young blues guitarist, defying his fire-and-brimstone father, Pastor Jedidiah. The club takes off—until music, myth, and malevolence collide. Enter vampires, led by the enigmatic Remmick, and a descent into a world where salvation and ruin play the same notes.

Let’s talk about the authenticity. The film feels like the 1930s. The attention to detail in the sets, the costuming, the texture of the era—it’s immersive. Major credit to production designer Hannah Beachler, costume designer Ruth E. Carter, and cinematographer Autumn Durald Arkapaw. The characters pop with chemistry, especially the dynamic between the cousins. You feel like part of the crew, swept into this mix of danger, rhythm, and rebellion.
The score deserves its own spotlight. Composer Ludwig Göransson blends tribal rhythms with haunted chamber strings in a soundscape that’s both cinematic and ancestral. The cellos carry the eerie weight of the story—moaning, warning, echoing dread. But it’s the wind, believe it or not, that feels like another character entirely—whispering through scenes, pushing them forward like fate itself. It’s Bernard Herrmann meets Ennio Morricone in a Deep South fever dream, and it’s brilliant. In addition to the score, the film’s soundtrack features 22 tracks performed by various artists, including Rod Wave, Brittany Howard, and James Blake, and is available on Spotify and Apple Music.
Sammie’s journey is particularly compelling: a prodigy with a guitar, battling faith, fear, and legacy. He becomes the heart of the film. Despite his father’s warnings—and his cousins’—he follows the music. “Devil’s music” or not, he owns it. And in doing so, sets everything in motion.
The film is packed with action, twists, and standout performances. But let’s not ignore the flaws. As someone of faith, I found some of the script’s treatment of scripture unsettling—at times careless, even disrespectful. It wasn’t subtle. That said, the film does have a powerful moral center that caught me off guard. It stuck with me.
On my way out, while waiting in the endless line for parking validation, I struck up a conversation with a 20-something couple. I asked what moment hit hardest. Without hesitation, they said: Sammie’s connection to his guitar. There’s an entire layer of storytelling tied to that moment—one you’ll miss if you leave when the screen fades to black. Trust me, stay in your seat.
I give Sinners a solid 5 out of 5 stars. Too early to call it Oscar-worthy? Maybe. But it’s a breakthrough. Sinners doesn’t raise the bar—it burns it down and rebuilds it with southern ash, sacred music, and purpose. This is cultural storytelling with teeth.