The following is a conversation between Robert Daniels and Odie Henderson conducted over email about Ryan Coogler’s “Sinners,” a Southern Gothic horror flick starring Michael B Jordan in the dual roles of Smoke and Stack—brothers arriving in Mississippi to open a juke joint with their cousin Sammie (Miles Caton)—and their fight against an Irish vampire Remmick (Jack O’Connell). It’s time to take a bite out of “Sinners”!

Odie Henderson:

Robert,

Let me holler at you a minute. Since its release on Thursday in a variety of theatrical formats, “Sinners” has been the talk of the town. I propose that we throw our two cents in. As readers know, you were mixed on Ryan Coogler’s fifth flick, which made you a minority in the minority. Since we’ve both been in that position numerous times, I thought it would be fun to interrogate our dissenting opinions.

My 3-1/2-star review at The Boston Globe is a star higher than your review, but I share a few of your valid complaints. I found them easier to forgive because I was so impressed with the technical aspects and the actors, especially Michael B. Jordan. Maybe I was so punch drunk from the unexplained recent glut of “actors playing dual roles” movies (here’s looking at you, The Alto Knights and Mickey 17) that I was just happy to see one that worked as well as this one does.

You end your review with: However, on a landscape afraid to grant directors the freedom to take massive swings, especially for Black filmmakers like Coogler who’ve earned the right for such big statements, making a movie that feels too big is a sin worth forgiving.

There are so many ideas in “Sinners”—references to roots and juju, the supposed notion that vampires don’t practice Jim Crow, passing for White, and the power of music to heal or destroy, just to name a few—that it feels like the director is herding cats. A few of them escape capture, but I’m getting ahead of myself. A few questions to volley on:

What were you expecting when you sat down to watch “Sinners?” Was there a particular scene when you realized that the film was not working for you? And lastly: Why do you think folk music was the chosen method of Remmick and his White cronies?

I have to be honest: That robin song they kept singing was sinister, yet catchy, in the same way Paul Dano singing “Run [N-word] Run” in “12 Years a Slave” was to me. 

Invite me in to hear your ideas, my brother.

Robert Daniels: Lord, Odie, I’m glad we’re talking about this movie. As you mentioned, with this movie I’m a minority of a minority—so I can’t catch a break. I didn’t think my review read that negatively, but Jesus people have been trying to tell me I’m unnecessarily hard on it by not declaring it a masterpiece.

But to answer your question, I had no expectations. I didn’t even know what the film was about or that vampires would be in it; I try to generally go into movies blind by not watching trailers. I even muted the film on X when the review embargo lifted. I wanted to be as far away from any overhyping or even dogpiling as I could.  

That doesn’t mean my hopes weren’t high. I’m a fan of Coogler, even if I wasn’t a fan of “Black Panther: Wakanda Forever,” a film that’s far messier than this one (though no director would have succeeded in the tragic scenario of losing both a leading man and a dear friend). Also, this film promised a reuniting of Coogler and MBJ. Coogler unlocks a different intensity and energy in Jordan, an actor I think can be chiseled to the point of rigidity with other directors. Also, the idea of Jordan playing dual roles felt so audacious that it could easily go left. That kind of risk is exciting, brave and attractive.

I don’t know when “Sinners” began to veer left. I was actually feeling most of it. But maybe around the point when these Irish vampires were introduced as being both symbolic of an oppressed people turning racist against another Other, while being metaphorical of the pains of integration, protected spaces—I began to fear Coogler didn’t have time to land any of it.

The folk music used by the vampires, particularly Remmick, is fascinating. The blues is unrestrained and full-throated, and can be nasty and sticky, like the sound of pulling yourself off grandma’s plastic-covered couch. It sings of hard times and yet can be so freeing.

Folk also sings of hard times but also feels more controlled, and a little bit more ethereal (though there are guttural variations too). But as Remmick was singing something like “Wild Mountain Thyme” at the door of the juke joint, I couldn’t help but think about the sirens in “O Brother, Where Art Thou?” The harmonies have this hypnotic pull that reaches into you, as though they’re conjuring something primordial. Your body wants to lean in, even as your instincts are telling you to RUN!   

But as you said, you were a full star higher than me! What scene allowed you to more easily forgive the messier parts?

What works here with Jordan playing twins that doesn’t in something like “The Alto Knights”?

Would Irish beer be enough for you to visit the juke joint?

Like Albert Popwell in “Dirty Harry” “I gots to know!”   

Odie: The funniest thing about Albert Popwell’s infamous scene in “Dirty Harry” is that he returns in that film’s first sequel, “Magnum Force” as a completely different character whom Harry questions without pointing a gun at him. Ah, progress for the colored folks in Detective Callahan’s San Francisco district!

The feedback for your **1/2 review mirrors the feedback I got for giving “Wicked” that same rating. Like your “Sinners” review, mine also wasn’t that negative. But judging by the mail I got, you’d think I made curry goat out of Peter Dinklage’s character.

Unlike De Niro in “The Alto Knights,” Jordan creates two distinct characters who are similar enough for us to believe they’re connected, but different enough that we don’t get them confused. And Coogler does more to integrate them seamlessly into the movie. It looked like Barry Levinson, on the other hand, was using the decades-old split screen technology they used on “The Patty Duke Show.”

I totally agree that there’s too much going on here for Coogler to stick the landing, but his stumble wasn’t big enough to really bother me. I can recall when I went to see Jordan Peele’s “Us,” a movie that shares some thematic elements with “Sinners.” As soon as I got out of the theater, I texted Matt Zoller Seitz. “This movie is your kind of messy,” I wrote. Matt’s tolerance for messy fare is far stronger than mine, but there’s a sweet spot I believe we share on that scale, and “Sinners” ranks at that point.

As you said regarding the Irish vampires turning the bigotry they once received on another Other, I thought about the idea of vampirism as the act of “turning White.” The Irish, like the Italians, “turned White” in this country after enduring their share of bigotry. That’s what I mean by “turning White,” that is, becoming privileged enough to practice racism on an Other. According to Remmick, who admittedly isn’t a reliable source, there’s no Jim Crow in the land of the undead. Of course, there’s something worse, as Wunmi Mosaku’s Annie tells Smoke.

I won’t need any Irish beer to get me to that juke joint. Hannah Beachler’s set and Ruth E. Carter’s costumes were enough for me to risk getting chomped on by someone my Mom would describe as the Black skin shade called “light, bright and damn near White.” 

You’re a Chicago brother, so I’m sure you know Ernie Barnes’ painting, The Sugar Shack (aka the “Good Times painting”). I was obsessed with that painting as a kid. When they showed it in the credits, I would stare intensely at it for the few seconds it was onscreen. I wanted to go to that place where the Black bodies were so angular and so full of joy. 

“It was the first time my innocence met with the sins of dance,” Barnes said of the inspiration for that painting. And like the blues, dancin’ was a sin (at least for the Sanctified folks in my Baptist ass upbringing). 

Hearing “Wang Dang Doodle” on the soundtrack, and Miles Caton wailing, I thought of my Pops’ blues albums. He’d play B.B. King and Bobby “Blue” Bland when I was a kid, but the records by women were not played in my presence. I’d later find out why: Those records were filthy with a capital F. Give Lucille Bogan’s “Til the Cows Come Home” or “Shave ‘Em Dry” a listen. They were recorded around the same time “Sinners” is set, and like those records, Coogler’s movie has a bawdy and refreshing approach to sex and lust.

Do you have a favorite performance? Did you jump when that Afrofuturist guitar player appeared onscreen? What, if any, message did you think Coogler managed to successful nail? And what would you sell your soul for at the crossroads? I’d take Satan’s guitar lessons. I play the trumpet. Unless you’re Miles Davis, the only buttons a trumpeter gets to play with are on that horn.

While I await your answers, I’ll contemplate whether somebody actually socked it to the lady who yells out “all right now! Sock it to me, baby!” in Curtis’ “We’re a Winner.”

Robert: The use of music here is really the BIG winner in “Sinners.” You can tell the film is deeply researched on that front, giving the Robert Johnson newer shades. I don’t think I’d sell my soul to play the guitar; I’m already a pretty good player (I have two electrics, an acoustic, some shakers, a tambourine, and a harmonica set). But I’d give anything to be able to play the violin. It’s the instrument that most expresses the soul. 

Like you, I grew up in a Blues household. My dad worked at Chess Records momentarily, before owning an independent record label for a few years during the 70s where he produced Gospel, R&B, Soul and Blues with a few regional artists. So we listened to John Lee Hooker, Freddie King, and Willie Dixon quite a bit. I’m stretching to remember if we had any women Blues artists in our record collection outside of Dinah Washington. We did, however, have a lot of Moms Mabley—a woman whose comedy is so raunchy if I repeated it my grandma would come out of the grave and slap me. 

Speaking of raunch, you tapped on what I love most about “Sinners”—its sensuality. The eroticism here is so steamy and sticky it gives the bloody sex scene in “Ganja & Hess” a run for its money. My screening was almost entirely Black, and the moment where Hailee Steinfeld drips her drool in MJB’s mouth caused one woman to say, “Jesus.” This is the kind of film you see late on Saturday night and try your best to forget in church on Sunday. 

To that end, the sensuality and the music all come together in the juke joint scene. It’s the moment I sat up in my seat. You can tell Coogler might’ve had that idea from the beginning, allowing his film to become the audio-visual medium many contemporary directors have forgotten cinema can be. Movies should be our dreams and nightmares, they should transport and distort our senses, binding us all with what came before us and with what might still come. When that Afrofuturist guitarist showed up, I was like, “Finally, some good food.”     

I also think Wunmi Mosaku as Annie, a hoodoo conjurer and former lover of Smoke is fantastic in what I think is a sorely underwritten role. If one critique could be levied against Coogler, it’s that he struggles to write Black women who exist on their own. Black women in his movies are either mourning or celebrating a Black man, they’re rarely simply living. In that way, he’s a more respectful Singleton, who had a rigid concept of the ideal Black woman. In “Sinners,” Mosaku finds some independence outside of her limited character, elevating Annie to being someone we actively root for. 

Delroy Lindo is also incredible, here. He’s often on the verge of running away with the movie. I’m never going to forgive the Academy for doing him dirty with “Da 5 Bloods.”

What are your thoughts about Coogler choosing the Steinfield character as the weak link? What did you think of the post-credit scenes? What do you think Stack has been up to in the decades between the film’s end and the seeing Buddy ahem… Sammie again?

Odie: Moms Mabley joke: “Two old women were walking down the street. One of ‘em says ‘I smell hair burning.’ The other one says…” (OK, we can’t print that!)

ANYWAY…seeing Buddy Guy in the mid-credits sequence was just another way Coogler reinforced his earlier scene of musical transcendence. The blues will never die because, like our history, it’s an oral tradition just waiting to be passed down to the next generation regardless of how many Republicans try to stop it.

As for Stack and Mary, their lost decades were spent teaming up with Remmick to form the folk group “Remmick, Stack and Mary,” singers of “If I Had a Hammer, I’d Stake You In the Mornin’.”

Glad you mentioned the magnificent work by Delroy Lindo! Like Gene Hackman (his “Get Shorty” co-star), Lindo always looks like himself yet is never the same character. What immediately drew my attention was the voice he used for Delta Slim. It’s perfect, and tells you so much about the character. Maybe I’ve just spent too much time around Southern uncles who loved their liquor too much, but that voice took me places.

While I’m testifying about actors, I also want to throw some love at Wunmi Mosaku. She does wonders with the usually thankless role of “monster explainer.” People know her from “Lovecraft Country,” but I want to mention her turn in “His House,” a far more terrifying film that I reviewed on this site. Her character is menaced by witches in that film instead of vampires; they’re manifestations of her grief. My review ended with this:

“We are left with the sobering notion that trauma will always occupy a room in the houses our psyches build. To not acknowledge its presence only makes it bang harder on the walls.”

Which leads me to your question about Mary. I’ve heard stories about a relative of mine who passed for White. Like Ruth Negga in “Passing,” and by extension, like Mary in “Sinners,” my relative was miserable being trapped in that world. Mary only comes alive when she’s around her people, folks who can see her Blackness. 

But she got too cocky in the White world when she went out to deal with Remmick and his crew. Bob Slade, a DJ on NYC radio, used to say some Black folks had “the illusion of inclusion,” that is, they thought they could maneuver about in polite society without any White folks turning on them. 

Mary had that illusion of inclusion, and it came back to bite her. Literally. As Paul Mooney used to say, she got her you-know-what wake up call.

Just as Mary passed in the White world, Remmick sends her back to pass as a human being. It was the only way he was going to get any traction in that juke joint. 

At least that’s my theory. Speaking of theories…

What do you make of the fact that Variety, Vulture and The New York Times all ran articles about undervaluing the box office take of “Sinners”? White culture writers are either rending their garments about Coogler’s kickass rights-retaining, gimme my MF’in money up front deal with WB or expressing Shock! SHOCK! that Black folks helped make the movie a hit. 

“50% of the audience was Black, and that’s why it made money domestically” said one podcast White dude I listened to earlier, his smarmy voice making him sound like he needed a punch in the mouth. 

Why does this undermining nonsense keep happening? Just earlier this year, the Keke Palmer-SZA movie, “One of Them Days” opened at number one and the trades were—you guessed it—Shocked! SHOCKED!!! 

“Why you think that is?” asks Odie in his best Delta Slim drawl.

Ponder this question, and add anything else you like to close us out here. I’ll end with a quote from, of all people, Billy Joel: “I’d rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints. The sinners are much more fun.” The movie “Sinners” is much more fun, too, Billy!

Make the church say “Amen,” Robert, and send the congregation home.

Robert: I find the fluidity of Mary to be fascinating. Her identity is messy and complicated, erupting all sorts of feelings about passing. You’re right, she often feels most at home around other Black people, even when her presence may be dangerous to the people she loves. Because ultimately what appears to be a white woman dancing in a sea of Black sensuality is a loaded image for the era.

The fact that everyone except for Mary is shook by these white vampires is also intriguing. You mentioned that you think it’s because she feels far too comfortable around white folks, believing they’ll see her as one of them. I think that’s correct. But I also keep coming back to what that says about protecting the sanctity of this Black-owned space, and how Mary disrupts its safety by her very identity and her willingness to negotiate with these white vampires in hopes of winning the monetary power they might provide because she, in some way, feels like she can identify with them.

What does the writing of her character say about the fixed perceptions of race and of Blackness? And what are the dangers of those perceptions becoming blurred?

Lastly, depending on what we think about the one-drop rule, Stack, in his act of corporeal pleasure with Mary, is also blurring the sexual boundaries of the era. For those desires, he pays dearly.

I don’t have any answers to any of this, but generally, I find the presentation of Mary to be intriguing and knotty.

By the way, I haven’t read all of the articles you’re referencing about the film’s box office and ownership, but you can always count on white people under-projecting and underestimating our movies. There’s still this myth that Black movies, especially the few big budget ones, don’t sell — especially internationally. It’s a self-perpetuating cycle of studios not having enough data but not approving bigger budget Black movies that could provide that data. 

There’s also this hint of white capitalism that Black people shouldn’t own the means of their own production. Coogler, by the way, is a producer on the film. So why shouldn’t he therefore own it? The fears that Black directors owning their product leading to the collapse of the studio system reads like the reason chattel slavery persisted — it would break the South’s economy. 

As you mentioned earlier, in my mixed-positive review I wrote: However, on a landscape afraid to grant directors the freedom to take massive swings, especially for Black filmmakers like Coogler who’ve earned the right for such big statements, making a movie that feels too big is a sin worth forgiving. 

Coogler has earned the right to own his film. He’s earned the right to take a big swing. He’s earned the right to make a film totally in his vision. 

Even if it doesn’t wholly succeed, I’d rather have a million movies like “Sinners,” a picture that’s actually going for something, that’s testing and pushing audiences and entertaining them. Hollywood used to know that some of the movies winning and failing was the cost of not just doing business. But also part of pushing the medium forward. The fact the film industry is questioning a director acting on that impulse is both indicative of widespread racism and our contemporary desire to lick the boot of the corporate devil we know.