Ryan Coogler’s ‘Sinners’ Delivers a Haunting Blend of History and Horror

This movie is for the culture, and Ryan Coogler is no stranger to storytelling that hits hard with cultural impact. With his latest film, Sinners, he steps fully into the Southern Gothic horror lane with a bold twist.

This isn’t your typical bloodsucker flick. Set in 1930s Mississippi, Sinners weaves together Black folklore, the painful legacy of American racism, and the supernatural, crafting a narrative that’s both deeply resonant and chilling.

The story follows twin brothers, Smoke and Stack, both portrayed by Michael B. Jordan, who returns home to Clarksdale, Mississippi, with big dreams of opening a juke joint. But their return stirs up more than just nostalgia. A sinister presence begins to loom over the town in the form of vampires who aren’t just feeding on blood. They’re feeding on Black culture, talent, and legacy. In this world, the monsters don’t hide in the shadows; they walk among us, dressed in the stolen aesthetics of Black excellence.

The vampires here serve a bigger metaphor. Director Ryan Coogler uses them to comment on cultural appropriation and the historical exploitation of Black art. These creatures feed off the soul of Black creativity and leave behind a hollow version for mass consumption. This is a theme we’ve seen echoed in real life too many times to count, and Coogler doesn’t shy away from making it explicit.

Michael B. Jordan delivers a powerful double performance, bringing a grounded emotionality to both Smoke and Stack as they grapple with the threat that’s slowly consuming their community. He’s joined by a talented supporting cast, including Miles Caton as Sammie “Preacher Boy” Moore, whose performance brings spiritual depth to the story. Delroy Lindo, Hailee Steinfeld, and a haunting turn from real-life blues legend Buddy Guy (in the mid-credits scene) round out the ensemble with gravitas.

The film’s visuals are stunning, with Autumn Durald Arkapaw (known for Loki and Black Panther: Wakanda Forever) as cinematographer. Her work captures both the beauty and the terror of the Deep South and lush cotton fields drenched in blood, smoke-filled juke joints echoing with blues, and sunlit porches that hold generations of trauma. This film goes beyond horror and its social commentary wrapped in fangs and folklore.

The mid-credits scene gives us a glimpse into 1992 Chicago, where an elderly Sammie (played by Buddy Guy) is offered eternal life by vampire versions of Stack and Mary. He refuses, a powerful statement on choosing legacy over eternal consumption. The post-credits gospel rendition of “This Little Light of Mine” provides a final emotional punch that feels like a benediction.

With Sinners, Coogler reminds us that horror is at its best when it holds up a mirror to society. The film is a masterclass in genre-blending, equally at home in the cinema as it would be in cultural studies classes years from now.