Let’s Talk About Sinners
In this episode, I’ll be sharing my initial reaction to seeing the film. This was recorded the day after watching it for the first time, without any prior research or deeper contextual analysis. In the audio, I focus more on how some of the themes raised in the film connect to previous topics on Unspoken podcast, from the impact of imperialism to African spirituality. Below I will add a bit more depth from some reading that I have done since watching the film.
Spoiler Alert!
Overall, I would give this film a solid 8 out of 10. That’s saying a lot, considering I generally don’t like horror films. But this was a very good horror film—it engaged with so many facets of culture and history that it was worth the watch… and one sleepless night.
At its heart, I think the film is deeply reflective of the duality of life—that nothing is strictly black or white. There are many layers in between: our histories, how they inform our experiences and the choices we make. Even when things seem right or wrong, it’s never really that simple.
Ryan Coogler is brilliant at expressing this on so many levels. He manages to weave in historical narratives that have shaped the landscape of the Southern United States—particularly the development of the blues genre.
Duality of Life
The clearest depiction of duality comes through the twin brothers, Stack and Smoke. I have to give major props to Michael B. Jordan for his performance—he authentically portrays two distinct characters and makes it entirely believable.
The brothers look alike, but, for instance, Stack is more carefree and cheeky. He doesn’t necessarily carry himself as seriously, and maybe because he wears red, you're led to believe he's the "evil" twin. Smoke, on the other hand, wears blue and seems more level-headed, always thinking ahead. That being said, the film reveals that out of the two, it's actually Smoke who commits most of the grotesque actions, such as shooting and killing people.
Smoke also has a love interest who is more grounded: a dark-skinned, fuller-figured Black woman named Annie, who is a practitioner of Hoodoo. The use of Hoodoo in the film is another representation of duality. It’s a practice often condemned or portrayed negatively, yet here, it’s Annie’s knowledge of herbal medicine and spiritual work that plays a central role in keeping Smoke and others safe and ahead of danger.
Meanwhile, Stack’s love interest, Mary, is a white-passing, slimmer-figured woman. Although she seems somewhat connected to her Blackness, in the end, she lacks sound judgment and fails to use the privilege she holds as a lighter-skinned woman wisely. Because of this lapse, she ends up inviting the vampires in triggering the chaos that follows.
Still, there is real love between Stack and Mary. We come to understand that Mary is upset with him because he insists that she would live a white-passing life with a white husband. He believed that would protect her from the risks of being with him, considering his lifestyle and the fact that he is a visibly Black man. This gives us another glimpse into the internal conflicts that define these characters and their choices.
The Villain: Remmick
Another compelling layer of duality is embodied by the villain, Remmick. He is clearly portrayed as a monster, but what he vocalises through his voice gives hidden clues to his backstory and adds depth to his character. The way his role is written suggests that he acts from a place of historical oppression.
Remmick is Irish, and this ties into a historical reality: many Irish immigrants fled to the United States in the late 1800s due to the Great Famine, along with economic hardship, religious persecution, and political instability. These migrants experienced their forms of marginalisation, which in turn influenced American culture, especially in music, contributing to the foundations of both blues and country genres.
Remmick, in his own mind, just wants to recreate a community, to be with his people. He sees music as a vital link to his roots and ancestors. The violent way he tries to achieve this could be read as a nod to the oppression and violence he himself once endured.
Freedom of Choice
The film also reflects on the cost of freedom, particularly as shaped by the transatlantic slave trade. That historical trauma altered the very meaning of freedom—shifting it away from spiritual and communal well-being toward the pursuit of monetary gain or submission to a version of religion that suppresses one’s spiritual connection to self and to God-given gifts.
There is always a risk when we choose to stand fully in our light—we never know what it may attract, and we must be prepared to navigate the darkness that tries to attach itself to us. This is brilliantly depicted in the final scene with Sammie, who is unable to release his grip on the guitar, even with the promise of salvation offered by the church.
Another clear example of the pursuit of monetary gain is the scene where a white couple, members of the Ku Klux Klan, are recruited by the head vampire. What lures them in? Gold. This theme is echoed throughout the film: in the end, everyone who is tempted by money or compromises their inner light in some way either dies or becomes a vampire.
In this way, the film comments on the long-term ramifications of slavery, and colonisation, and how these systems stripped people of their essence and spirituality, robbing them of their power. These conditions laid the groundwork for imperialism, which in turn upholds the capitalist systems we live under today—systems that continue to extract from our cultures and communities under the false promise of everlasting success.
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References:
1. Brown, R.M. (2012) in African-Atlantic Cultures and the South Carolina Lowcountry. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press (Cambridge Studies on the American South)
2. https://www.loc.gov/classroom-materials/immigration/irish/irish-catholic-immigration-to-america/
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