Vampires appear about two-thirds of the way through “Sinners” (Warner Bros), showing now at the Montrose Playhouse. Until then, the film is best described as a could-be-fiction/could-be-non-fiction drama, set in 1930’s Mississippi. It feels orientated around the homecoming of two identical twins, who flash bags of cash in order to hurriedly open a “juke joint.” The twins have been in Chicago, where they made money in some shady way, possibly linked to Al Capone or possibly not, but either way involving gambling. They come home to impress their old acquaintances with the fortune they have made (however, that is, they actually made it). The rush to open the nightclub in one day isn’t explained in the film; perhaps it is just to drive narrative tension, and to find a reason for the price of all the supplies being so high, as they are acquired last-minute. Musicians, bartenders, chefs, signage-makers, bouncers, and even croupiers, are hired, all in one day. But, as they go around ticking off their complicated “to-do” list, the twins seem happy to be back in town, looking up old haunts and impressing long-lost neighbours.
There is, for sure, a hint at the sinister turn the film will later take. The opening scene is in a church, and the pastor there decries playing the guitar as sinful (those who contribute to the open-microphone evenings at the Playhouse should take note!). The fact that the Black twins buy the somewhat secluded property from a white man, perhaps a member of the Ku Klux Klan, combined with a comment early on about Chicago being just like the plantation but with tall buildings, and the state and era in which the film is set, certainly made me expect a racial conflagration, perhaps some sort of cross-burning outside the new music venue. But that is not the twist – the vampires are.
As such, the last 45-minutes is all about gore, neck-biting, wood-chopping, raw-garlic-consuming, and holding out until daybreak, when the blood-suckers will disappear again. I doubt if this part of the film is much different from any other vampire-flick, but the pivot itself is quite intriguingly handled, and truly creepy. A group of three white people (led by Remmick, played ominously by Jack O’Connell) turn up outside the venue when the party is well-advanced. They sing an Irish song, repeatedly requesting to be let in, to enjoy the blues music inside, to join in the celebration, only to be told—several times—that they aren’t welcome. The hairs on the back of the neck begin to rise as Stack’s ex-girlfriend, Mary, played by Hailee Steinfeld, and who passes for white, goes outside to question them as they sit some distance away still singing their Irish song.
The best part about the film must be the performance of Michael B. Jordan, who plays both the twins, Smoke and Stack. He is all taut-muscle and looking like he has popped up in completely the wrong movie; maybe he got in shape for an action film of the Bruce Willis type, but that gig fell through at the last minute and he took this role instead. When I reviewed “The Alto Knights” recently, one of the many criticisms I had of that film was that Robert de Niro played both of the leads. In “Sinners,” though, this works better, as the twins are, well, twins. They are also not that far apart in temperament, giving Michael Jordan an easy switch from one to the other. He is one of those actors who is believable and endearing, even though he is playing parts of (perhaps) gangsters. Sammie (known as the “Preacherboy,” as his dad is the pastor in the opening scene), played by Miles Caton, is the most significant of the generous co-starring parts. His character is exceptionally well-developed: destined for a long life as a blues artist, he comes across as needy and vulnerable, needing the twins to protect him from his worst instincts (and the vampires).
The twins are unapologetically driven by money, “the root of all evil,” calling to mind the greed of the bloodthirsty 0.1% in today’s life. Stepping back a few paces from the direction the film takes, the reappearance of long-lost children into a small community is surely a beautiful occasion, full of happiness and celebration. But their obsession has sucked all the goodness out of this joyful day. One of the first sets of dialog is concerned with the importance of money talking back to money—for instance, if offered 10-cents per minute for doing a job, you should immediately counter with a demand for 20-cents. The world’s greedy overlords suck the blood out of the poor, boasting about doing so, and scornfully mock those who actively refuse to play that particular game. The resistance to letting in the vampires late in the film, too, makes a vital point about surveillance capitalism: the billionaire-class being invited openly, welcomed, even, into our homes and proceeding to extract our blood through a small device we hold in our hands. A device that, until relatively recently, had a single, more innocent purpose.
But actually the film is more humane at heart than this. The twins come across as men fully absorbed in what they are doing—the project, the logistics, the right personnel—not as men wrangling every cent they can out of their patrons. There is one moving scene, for instance, where one of the poor sharecroppers, working on a plantation, has been paid in tokens which can be used to buy food at the local general store. A disagreement about whether to accept this form of payment in the club is met with an impassioned plea not to judge the poor, who would have worked very hard in the fields for those tokens. “Sinners” is a worthwhile, if somewhat violent, film, which skilfully elides two distinct genres and in the process gives us a lot to consider.
Adam Poole
22 April 2025
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