I’ve seen “Sinners,” an original screenplay directed and written by Ryan Coogler, eight times. So to say I loved the film would be an understatement. “Sinners” is an ineffably powerful, touching and beautiful film, centered around incredibly important and complex concepts, including the blues, African American Christianity and conjure. These concepts are integral to the African American experience as well as to the historical realities of people in both Africa and the United States, and they are not to be portrayed or understood in a vacuum. Instead, as Coogler accomplishes in “Sinners,” they must be treated as overlapping concepts and realities that have shaped many aspects of African American culture throughout history. 

Coogler has stated in interviews that “Sinners” was inspired by his Uncle James, who loved blues music and shared this love with young Coogler. After James’ passing, Coogler would listen to the blues, and he described his listening experience as “conjur[ing his] uncle.” 

This statement from Coogler resonated with me for two reasons. For one, I took a class called The Spirituals, The Blues and African American Christianity last semester. In taking this class, my understanding of the blues as a condition, as well as a genre of music that narrates engagement with historical conditions of the human spirit, deepened. 

Another aspect that I brought to viewing “Sinners” was that my grandfather was a blues musician. As a child, I would go to his shows and listen to him play in the living room. At the time, I did not understand the complexities of the blues and could not fully appreciate the genre. However, as I grow older, I am starting to appreciate it more and more as a musical genre, a cultural artifact and as a reminder of some of my fondest memories with my grandfather. Watching “Sinners,” there were many moments when I was almost transported back in time to when I sat listening to my grandpa play, moments that made me love and appreciate the film that much more. 

“Sinners” begins with a flashforward, with Sammie Moore stumbling into church with his clothes ripped, his face lacerated and his guitar broken. Sammie’s father, Pastor Jedidiah, beckons his son, calling him to the lord and asking him to “leave those sinnin’ ways where they lie,” as a cross hangs pointedly in the background. This tension between African American Christianity and the blues is felt throughout the film.

Although making and/or enjoying the blues and being religious are not necessarily mutually exclusive, historically, the blues often aren’t concerned with religion. For the most part, the blues are worldly, meaning they narrate engagement with historical conditions without respect to God, or instead with regard for the human spirit rather than the divine spirit. The blues are also inherently functional, a resource through which people were trying to answer and deal with the realities they faced in early 20th-century America. In this sense, “Sinners” portrays the blues incredibly well. 

In a monologue as the characters are driving through the cotton fields towards the Juke, Delta Slim, an older blues player, recalls his friend Rice being lynched. Near the end of the scene, Slim breaks out into a spontaneous hum, vocalizing his feelings of grief, sadness, anger and despair. He is singing the blues, and in doing so he is able to grapple with the reality in which he lives, a reality that is unforgivingly oppressive and actively works to negate his subjectivity. The blues, however, also convey a sense of celebration and joy under these conditions. What Coogler called the “surreal montage” in the Juke Joint reveals this fact. As Sammie introduces himself to the audience in the Juke, we cut to a scene of Delta Slim describing the blues as something that “wasn’t forced on us like that religion,” something “we brought […] from home” and most importantly, something that is “magic[al]” and “sacred.” Slim is directly describing to the audience how important and impactful the blues are. 

What follows is what I could only describe as a transcendental spiritual experience. Coogler and cinematographer Autumn Arkapaw weave viewers through the Juke as Sammie plays and sings, and as figures from the past, present and future dance, sing and play along. Figures range from traditional African dancers to futuristic electric guitar players, all in one space, at one time. The scene is the film’s magnum opus: it conveys the immortality of both the blues and the African American experience, suggesting that the blues is both foundational to current music and culture, but also comes from a long line of tradition that originates in Africa.

The film ends how it began, with Sammie entering the church after the events of the film. His father’s pleas compel him, and he is forced into choosing between the blues or Christianity as we see him shaking and staring at his nearly destroyed guitar. We then cut to Sammie driving through the cotton fields, as he triumphantly grips the guitar tightly to his chest, a powerful image that affirms Sammie’s autonomy, courageously choosing the blues, even after being through hell on earth. The film is nothing short of genius, capturing the profound impact and significance of the blues and Black culture.