Review: Ryan Coogler’s Sinners – A New Breed of Horror with Soul

‘SINNERS’ has just passed 200$ million at the domestic box office, becoming the sixth horror film in history to reach this achievement. 

By now, many of us have witnessed the brilliance of Ryan Coogler’s latest creation, Sinners. And if you’re like me, you’ve probably watched it more than once—and for good reason. The film demands a second viewing. The first time, you’re captivated by the story and visual experience; the second time, your mind is open to the details, nuances, and layers you might have missed before.

One Irish reviewer noted how impressed he was with the film’s depth of knowledge and portrayal of Irish culture. That struck me—because Sinners manages to resonate across cultures. Whether you’re Irish, African American, or Native American, there’s a sense of familiarity and nostalgia in this film. It’s as though everyone walks away having seen a piece of their own history reflected on screen.

What stood out most to me were the scenes steeped in music and dance. The way different eras of cultural expression merged was powerful—it created a sense of growth through rhythm. From African roots to slave songs, to juke joints and modern music, there was a throughline of unity and evolution. It was a reminder of how deeply our music connects us, not just to each other, but to our ancestors.

The character work and cinematography were immersive—you didn’t just watch the film, you lived in its world. No single actor overshadowed the others; instead, the cast created a powerful ensemble. Still, there were standout moments. Omar Miller’s character “Cornbread” gave us much-needed comic relief (that “drain the snake” in the next town over and reveal scene was hilarious), while other scenes hit harder, leaving you cringing or whispering “ouch” or “eww.”

Michael B. Jordan brought something special by portraying two completely different characters—Stack and Smoke. He was so convincing, I had to check twice to make sure it wasn’t two different actors. That’s talent.

And then there are the vampires.

Irish vampire Remmick, with his twisted gospel of unity, wasn’t just a monster—he was a manipulator, a self-proclaimed savior trying to create his own lineage. I was particularly drawn to how the Native Americans were portrayed. They understood the danger and moved with instinct and wisdom, knowing to retreat before nightfall. In one chilling turn, the hunter becomes the hunted, as Remmick tricks his way into gaining the trust of the Black community—offering “help” they didn’t ask for. A classic case of the white savior complex.

Sinners isn’t just a horror film—it reinvents the genre. We’ve had sparkling vampires (Twilight) and elegant immortals (Interview with the Vampire), but Coogler gives us something different: drooling, half-zombie vampires. They’re seductive and charismatic, yes—but also slow to heal, hungrily driven, and tragically enslaved by their own “Massa.” It’s a haunting metaphor. The hive-mind connection was both a gift and a curse—sharing memories brought power but also an unbearable weight.

The film poses profound questions. For instance, some Reddit threads asked: Why didn’t they just join the vampires? That question alone is wild. Who wants to be cursed with eternal hunger, sunlight aversion, and a permanent detachment from humanity? Whether it’s a lost Irish Christian vampire or a Chicago street vampire, the idea of choosing that fate is—well—insane.

In the end, Sinners is more than just a vampire flick. It’s a deeply layered story about survival, legacy, and the ever-present shadows of history. It’s a film about being hunted—whether by monsters or men in hoods—and the strength it takes to resist both.

Ryan Coogler didn’t just make a horror movie. He made a cultural reckoning with fangs.