A Masterpiece of Spiritual Depth, Culture, and Cinematic Brilliance
Wow this movie was phenomenal. That’s the only words that escaped my mouth as the credits rolled on Sinners, the newest visionary work from director Ryan Coogler and actor-producer Michael B. Jordan. This isn’t just a film—it’s an experience, a revelation, and quite honestly, a spiritual journey. With so much to unpack, Sinners is a film that leaves you emotionally raw, intellectually stimulated, and spiritually full. I had the absolute privilege of attending an early release screening on Tuesday, April 15, 2025, thanks to Morehouse College, and I already know I’ll be watching it again. If you’re lucky enough to live near an IMAX theater that supports 70mm film, go see it within the next two weeks—your soul will thank you.
Released Easter weekend, the film’s timing is no coincidence. It parallels the resurrection of Jesus Christ with the themes of redemption, rebirth, and the eternal struggle between good and evil. Coogler and Jordan have created a layered story that isn’t afraid to get uncomfortable or push spiritual boundaries. The symbolism is deep, the cinematography is stunning, and the storytelling? Simply breathtaking.
Let’s talk themes—because this movie is RICH in them. Thanks to thinkers like @_iamjamila, @spacebunshawty, @frankiebleau, and many others on TikTok, I was able to expand my own analysis after my first viewing.
The characters Smoke and Stack represent two sides of a spiritual coin—good and evil, light and shadow. Their dynamics are deeply introspective, reflecting internal and external battles Black people face daily. One of the most powerful early scenes involves Native American characters being the first to sense and speak on the evil that’s coming—a respectful nod to Indigenous wisdom and spirituality.
The vampires in Sinners aren’t just horror creatures—they are parasitic demons who require an invitation to invade your space, much like real-world threats to Black safety and sanctity. This metaphor hits especially hard during a pivotal period as white and non-Black characters seek to infiltrate Black safe spaces.
Music is another dominant force in the film. From the use of the guitar to the emotionally charged group ancestral dance scene, the film reminds us that music is the lifeblood of Black culture. It transcends generations and connects us to our ancestors. This is especially evident when Preacher Boy Sammy, one of the film’s most spiritually complex characters, refuses to put down his guitar—holding onto joy and expression even in the midst of chaos.
One hauntingly symbolic moment occurs when the White vampire begins to mimic a baptism as Preacher Boy Sammy is casting him down. It’s chilling. It raises questions about religious freedom and Christianity all in one.
But the film doesn’t leave us hopeless. Even in darkness, Black people find joy. Smoke and Mary—after becoming vampires themselves—finally find the freedom to love in a way they couldn’t as humans. It’s bittersweet, but it speaks volumes about liberation, transformation, and legacy.
Visually, the film pays homage to Ernie Barnes’ iconic painting Sugar Shack, especially in its joyous scenes of dance and community. That visual callback ties the movie to a broader cultural memory, creating continuity between past, present, and future Black experiences.
In short, Sinners is a movie you cry to, cheer for, and can’t stop thinking about. It’s a film you’ll watch a thousand times and discover something new with each viewing. I truly believe it deserves both a prequel and a sequel. If this review hasn’t made you want to see the film—or dig deeper into its meaning—then I haven’t done my job.
Run, don’t walk, to the nearest theater. This one will be a classic.