Michael B. Jordan & Michael B. Jordan Give Ryan Coogler's 'Sinners' Emotional and Cultural Depth

"You keep dancing with the devil...one day he's gonna follow you home."

Film Studies classes in the near future will no doubt concentrate entire lesson plans on the cinematic collaboration between actor Michael B. Jordan and his longtime director Ryan Coogler. After both stunned independent movie theaters with 2013's "Fruitvale Station," the two have continued their takeover of blockbuster audiences with "Creed" and "Black Panther." Known for dissecting culturally relevant stories surrounding complex Black characters, the pairing of Jordan and Coogler shows no signs of slowing down.

Their newest venture together, "Sinners," might be one for those aforementioned Film Studies history books. "Sinners" takes place over the course of 24 hours in 1932 Mississippi, where identical twins Smoke and Stack Moore (played in dual roles by Jordan) arrive after a stint continuing their criminal activities in Chicago. The brothers are well known in the Jim Crow era South, specializing in bootlegging and stealing money from gangsters. Their younger cousin Sammie (Miles Caton) is a self-described "Preacher Boy" whose seemingly innocent demeanor is corrupted by his relatives' underhanded success.

Several Southern folks are pulled into the twins' web, including Stack's ex-girlfriend Mary (Hailee Steinfeld), Smoke's wife Annie (a marvelous Wunmi Mosaku), and a married Chinese couple (Li Jun Li and Yao) responsible for supplying the party with items from their local shop. The guitar-playing Sammie gets his own love interest in singer Pearline (Jayme Lawson) as the three men negotiate terms with local pianist Delta Slim (Delroy Lindo) to host a juke joint for the local Black community of Clarksdale, Mississippi.

The juke joint houses some of the most spectacular singing and dancing in recent memory, combining blues and references to future music in one particularly elongated sequence. But the happiness within the juke joint's walls is interrupted by three white folks (Jack O'Connell, Lola Kirke, and Peter Dreimanis) hellbent on bringing the spirit of the KKK back to Mississippi. 

As if it ever left.

Coogler does an impressive job setting the scene for his audience as the first hour of "Sinners" plays out like a historical crime drama. There's quite a genre shift roughly halfway through the film, the origins of which are never fully explained, that devolves into a full-blown vampiric epic. The shift isn't subtle, nor is it understated by Coogler's leaning onto Black history, cultural appropriation, and unwelcome Southern hospitality as a way to drive plot points across.

Every member of the twins' orbit, including Smoke and Stack themselves, falls victim to the devilish entity that has made its way into their otherwise happy and powerful existence. No one is safe, the spirits of the past and future are ever-present, and destruction is inevitable. The supernatural elements at play give rise to religious confrontations that have far-reaching complications for those witnessing the dismantling of an independent community.

"Sinners" merges several genres into what becomes a horror film in unlikely and enthusiastic ways. Jordan, Steinfeld, Caton, O'Connell, and Mosaku are well-regarded for setting the tone of a film with multiple tones while committing to telling stories of historical significance. Coogler's script and, ultimately, his dedicated directional abilities are unmatched as racism and religious subtext are thrust into the foregrounds of a horror story worth telling.

Coogler delights in continuing his blood-filled chronicle with not one but two credit scenes…both with hefty weight to them to conclude the film. Not to be missed, or misunderstood for that matter, both credit scenes are integral to the story's outcome and overall substance as much as the preceding 2 hours before them. Playing with themes of assimilation, gentrification, hate, and regret, Coogler and Company give their audience a much-needed history lesson while simultaneously scaring the bejesus out of them.

However, Michael B. Jordan and Ryan Coogler's frequent collaborative efforts would be nothing without the package deal they've become accustomed to. As with many of their films to date, composer Ludwig Goransson (fresh off an Oscar win for "Oppenheimer") and Costume Designer Ruth E. Carter ("Black Panther") are along for this ride in bold and fresh perspectives. Carter enhances every scene with tailor-made suits and dynamite garments set to Goransson's ever-changing tempo, making the story feel authentic when it becomes everything but.