Sixteen Further Screams For Halloween: Day 11 (Sinners)

Well, holy god damn. Every once in a while you come across a film that just floors you. Surprising nobody who read the previous two sentences, Sinners is the latest film to do that for me. Yet here I sit, baffled about what to say regarding it. It is at once vast and infinite in its intricacies and meanings, and also exactly what it says on the tin. There are angles I can come at the movie, but we have to deal with the main thing upfront: I'm white and this isn't my story or struggle. It's why I did not cover a movie like Get Out on this here marathon, despite it also being spectacular and having a lot to say. That aspect is hugely vital to Sinners, anyone can see it, and I have. I'm just putting the disclaimer here so you know that if I missed something, it's out of privilege and not malice. With that out of the way, let me try and do this film justice.

One of the many facets to the movie is that of spaces. The whole luxurious first half of the movie, before hardly any of the crazy shit happens, is that of setting up this black club where everyone can drink, dance, and have a good time. God knows the 30s in the South was not a good time to be black (as the attempted murder by several KKK scum in the closing minutes proves), and that these folks just need that space, where they can exist in community and unwind in solidarity. That solidarity then gets challenged over the back half of the movie by a bunch of fucking vampires. I'm torn on the movie revealing the vampires early, before we even get to the club. It does add that foreknowledge and letting you know bad shit will go down (and you know that already from the cold open), but on the other hand imagine the absolute swerve if you didn't know and thought these were just creepy weird white folks until the fangs come out. At this point I'm just lamenting about an imaginary version of the movie in my head, so let us just say that the film still manages to nail this. I've seen a few stray comments online wondering why this had to have vampires in it, and here's one possible answer. This is a movie about spaces, and the threat of them being invaded. In light of that, consider the vampire rule which is adhered to in the movie: they cannot enter without an invitation, but once they're in, you're fucked.

Of course, the vampires are far more than just a supernatural invader in this. They are a clashing ideology, and they build a space of their very own. It exists both outside the club, stalking the people trapped inside, as well as in the group vampiric hivemind. It promises a transhumanistic immortal dark utopia of love and togetherness, where all are equal. Of course, to do that it has to get in and violently rip your throat out as you bleed to death on the floor, so... Maybe not all it's cracked up to be. Were I to stretch, I could even sow a metaphor together about the vampires being the Dark Heart Of America again, a melting pot that melds all into one, and does so by brute force, colonization, wanton murder, and mass takeover. Yes, that's a reach, but not by much. The head vampire is even an Irish immigrant who has an amazing speech about how his land was taken from him by colonizers and settlers. It's all a cycle, and history repeats. The same old song and dance, time after time.

Which leads us, of course, into the greatest aspect of the movie: the power of music. Our lead, Sammie, has a gift with the guitar, and he's hired to play at the club. The movie straight up tells you what is going to happen right away: that there are some who can use the power of music to meld past, present and future. That the harmonious song will also attract evil forces. All of this happens in the movie. They tell you it again as Sammie plays, and then... all times are one. Electric guitars, African drums, and twerking all present. It's 1936, 1777, and 1992 all at once in the club, and it's beautiful. Not to be outdone, the vampires get their own ditty little Irish jig (which I recognized, being from Newfoundland and Newfoundland having such a tie to Ireland) and a song and dance. All people are one, and they are Vampire. The movie ends with an ambiguity about the vampires: was it truly freedom? Was it restricting for the ones who are left because all the others died, or because all that talk about togetherness was a bunch of bullshit so you'd let your guard down and let them kill and turn you? I don't know. What I do know is that this musical tour de force scene, like William Gull's dark ascension in From Hell, is one of the greatest things I've ever seen. That this movie's a goddamn masterpiece. I barely scratched the surface, but I trust you can find critics who can tell you the deeper merits of this movie. This is just how I saw it, and goddamn did I see a good fucking movie here.