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Stream It Or Skip It: ‘Sinners’ on VOD, Ryan Coogler's ambitious vampire epic set in the segregated South of the 1930s

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Stream It Or Skip It: ‘Sinners’ on VOD, Ryan Coogler's ambitious vampire epic set in the segregated South of the 1930s

Ryan Coogler’s Sinners (now streaming on VOD platforms like Amazon Prime Video) gets 2025’s One Hell Of A Movie award. Free from the confines of franchise filmmaking – although he didn’t fail to show his acumen as a storyteller with Rocky-adjacent story Creed and two Black Panther films for Marvel – he concocted a genre-mashing action-horror-drama about life and death, good and evil, and how music bridges those dichotomies, set in the 1930s Deep South. Oh, and it’s a vampire movie. Coogler produces, writes and directs, once again casting his muse/creative partner Michael B. Jordan to lead the charge. Two things here are self-evident: One, it connected with a passionate audience, grossing $350 million worldwide. And two, you have no choice but to admire his ambition.

SINNERS: STREAM IT OR SKIP IT?

The Gist: Music: It can create and reflect joy. Same goes for pain. And as Sammie (Miles Caton) explains in voiceover, It lives right on the thin line between various extremes of the human experience. We meet Sammie in Clarksdale, Mississippi, in 1932. He looks a little worse for wear – bloody, ragged clothes, holding a broken guitar neck, his face slashed and bleeding and bearing the visage of someone who saw too damn much. He’s the son of a preacher (Saul Williams) who warned him about all that, the devil and Hell and yada yada, and all that’s pretty much the too much that he saw. It’s morning, and the congregation’s gathered in the church, gawping at the state of this young man. Then we jump back 24 hours.

It’s a hot day. The fields are full of people picking cotton, and driving past them are Smoke (Jordan) and Stack (also Jordan), twin brothers returning home after fighting in The War to End All Wars, and some further toughening up as Chicago gangsters. They have fat rolls in their pockets and a satchel full of cash, and it’s best not to ask where it all came from. They hand the satchel over to a grotesque, tobacco-spitting white man who lies through his nasty stained teeth that “the Klan don’t exist no more” before giving them the keys to an old sawmill. Smoke and Stack are going to fast-track the building into a juke joint with music, dancing, food and booze. It’ll open tonight, and it’ll be hot and delirious and ecstatic.

And this is feasible because it’s the 1930s in a rural area so nobody has anything going on. Smoke and Stack’s first recruit is Sammie, who can play glorious slide guitar and sing with his big, deep well of a voice that belies his youth, much to his father’s chagrin. They wave booze and cash in front of pianist Delta Slim (Delroy Lindo) so he’ll play, too. Storekeepers Bo (Yao) and Grace Chow (Li Jun Li) will tend bar, the burly Cornbread (Omar Miller) will mind the door. Will the woman Sammie’s sweet on, a singer named Pearline (Jayme Lawson), come by? Almost certainly. Same for Stack’s ex, Mary (Hailee Steinfeld), who passes for White; they have lingering lusty urges to reconsummate. Smoke’s ex, Annie (Wunmi Mosaku), will fry up some catfish for everyone – and stir painful feelings, as he visits their baby’s grave.

Now, what’s this party missing? That’s right: trouble. There’s a big difference between fun and too much fun, and Smoke and Stack sure seem to be magnets for the latter. But that’s why this movie is titled Sinners, you know. Midway through the evening, a trio of White folk arrive with their fiddles and banjos, hoping to stir some bluegrass and Celtic flavors into the mix, but they’re met with suspicious eyes. As it should be, since we met their leader, Remmick (Jack O’Connell), in an earlier scene, R-U-N-N-O-F-T-ing from Choctaw vampire hunters, then converting a couple of Klansfolk into fellow bloodsuckers like he, and at this point you’re thinking boy it’s a good thing Annie is a Hoodoo practitioner, so somebody around here will believe what they’re seeing. Anyway, these party crashers want to taste blood in that juke joint tonight. But will someone invite them in?

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SINNERS ending explained, Michael B. Jordan, 2025. © Warner Bros.
Photo: ©Warner Bros/Courtesy Everett Collection

What Movies Will It Remind You Of?: Sinners finds the sweet spot between Jordan Peele (it’s more Us than Get Out) and From Dusk Till Dawn.

Performance Worth Watching: Jordan continually comes to life when Coogler directs him, and the supporting cast – Steinfeld, Lindo, Mosaku especially – is just as good. But the breakout is Caton, a first-time actor who finds depth of character via his tremendous singing voice.  

Memorable Dialogue: Stack gives a sales pitch for the juke joint that nobody can resist: “Y’all ready to eat? Y’all ready to drink? Y’all ready to sweat til y’all stink?”

Sex and Skin: There’s some rampant horniness here via a few steamy sex scenes, but none of it is particularly graphic.

Where to watch the Sinners movie
Photo: Everett Collection

Our Take: Choose your prefix: over-, uber-, extra-, they all apply. Sinners bursts with style, characters and worldbuilding, and it’s a minor miracle that Coogler corrals it all just enough so it makes thematic, visual and tonal sense. His ideas burst the bag and run in all directions – spirituality and religion, racism, crime, infidelity, trauma, creativity, art and music, social politics. It’s a lot, and I struggled with the uneven pace; the more-is-more narrative tends to sap the dramatic momentum and dilute the suspense. It seems Coogler aimed to generate a boiling kettle of provocation, but it never reaches a roll. It simmers atop a blue flame though, and it’s still hot enough to burn flesh.

I can see fuddy-duddies tut-tutting the potentially awkward marriage of Serious Period Drama with splattery horror, and I say LET THEM TUT. That’s just Coogler’s blacksploitation influence showing. Vampires are forever a rich metaphor, appropriate for a time and place where aggressors accumulated power by extracting the lifeblood, so to speak, from the less powerful – one bite, and you’re Uncle Tom. More compelling, though, are Coogler’s ruminations on the potential for music to illuminate the inexplicable, its place in the social and historical structures of a people. That’s the film’s richest idea, one that the filmmaker could have explored in great detail in a more traditional story, instead of brushing up against it. But that wouldn’t be as much fun.

Coogler spends the first 45 minutes building to the big party, and it takes another 15 for it to get saucy. Sinners truly takes flight when Sammie takes the juke joint stage to sing and strum, and Coogler choreographs a stunning unbroken shot winding through the revelers, inserting musicians from different eras, from African percussionists to Funkadelic-style electric guitarists and Chinese dancers. Such robust storytelling seems incongruous with the inevitable corn syrup-drenched vampire showdown, but Coogler makes it work through force of will, and the ability to make us feel intoxicated with the film’s energy and impressive visionary overtures. Music is love and danger and life. Music is for sinners, and that, of course, is all of us.

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Our Call: Sinners ain’t perfect. But you have to see it anyway. STREAM IT.

John Serba is a freelance writer and film critic based in Grand Rapids, Michigan.

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Movie Reviews

‘Black Rabbit, White Rabbit’ Review: Disqualified for the Oscars, Tajikistan Drama Is an Inviting, Meandering Meta-Narrative

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‘Black Rabbit, White Rabbit’ Review: Disqualified for the Oscars, Tajikistan Drama Is an Inviting, Meandering Meta-Narrative

Selected by Tajikistan but ultimately not accepted by the Academy to compete in the Oscar international feature category, “Black Rabbit, White Rabbit” begins ambitiously, with a famous quote from playwright Anton Chekhov about setups and payoffs — about how if a gun is established in a story, it must go off. Moments later, an inviting long take involving a young man selling an antique rifle ends in farcical tragedy, signaling an equally farcical series of events that grow stranger and stranger. The film, by Iranian director Shahram Mokri, folds in on itself in intriguing (albeit protracted) ways, warping its meta-fictional boundaries until they supersede its characters, or any underlying meaning.

Still, it’s a not-altogether-uninteresting exercise in exploring the contours of storytelling, told through numerous thematically interconnected vignettes. The opening Chekhov quote, though it might draw one’s attention to minor details that end up insignificant, ensures a heightened awareness of the movie’s artifice, until the film eventually pulls back and becomes a tale of its own making. But en route to this semi-successful postmodern flourish, its character drama is enticing enough on its own, with hints of magical realism. It begins with the tale of a badly injured upper-class woman, Sara (Hasti Mohammai), discovering that her car accident has left her with the ability to communicate with household objects.

Sara’s bandages need changing, and the stench of her ointment becomes a quick window into her relationships. Her distant husband rejects her; her boisterous stepdaughter is more frank, but ultimately accepting; her gardener and handyman stays as diplomatic as he can. However, the film soon turns the gunfire payoff in its prologue into a broader setup of its own, as a delivery man shows up at Sara’s gate, insisting that she accept delivery for an object “the deceased man” has paid for.

Mokri eventually returns to this story (through a slightly tilt-shifted lens), but not before swerving headfirst into a seemingly unrelated saga of extras on a film set and a superstitious prop master, Babak (Babak Karimi), working on a shot-for-shot remake of an Iranian classic. A mix of rapid-fire Tajik, Persian and Russian dialogue creates dilemma upon dilemma when Babak’s ID goes missing, preventing him from being able to thoroughly check the prop ammunition for an assassination scene.

Danger begins to loom — a recent Alec Baldwin case even warrants a mention on-screen — as the notion of faulty firearms yanks Chekhov’s wisdom front and center once more, transforming it from a writing tip into a phantasmagorical inevitability. In keeping with the previous story, the props even communicate with each other (through subtitles) and begin gossiping about what might come to pass.

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After establishing these narrative parameters through unbroken, fluid shots filmed at a sardonic distance, Mokri soon begins playing mischievous temporal games. He finds worthwhile excuses to revisit scenes from either different angles or with a slightly altered aesthetic approach — with more proximity and intimacy — in order to highlight new elements of his mise-en-scène. What’s “real” and “fictional,” even within the movie’s visual parlance, begins to blur in surreal ways, largely pivoting around Babak simply trying to do his job. However, the more this tale engorges through melodic, snaking takes, the more it circles around a central point, rather than approaching it.

The film’s own expanse becomes philosophically limiting, even though it remains an object of curiosity. When it’s all said and done, the playfulness on display in “Black Rabbit, White Rabbit” is quite remarkable, even if the story’s contorting framework seldom amounts to much, beyond drawing attention to itself. It’s cinema about cinema in a manner that, on one hand, lives on the surface, but on the other hand, invites you to explore its texture in ways few other movies do.

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Movie Reviews

‘Christmas Karma’ movie review: A Bollywood Carol with little cheer

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‘Christmas Karma’ movie review: A Bollywood Carol with little cheer

Kunal Nayyar in ‘Christmas Karma’
| Photo Credit: True Bit Entertainment/YouTube

Christmas jumpers are all I can remember of this film. As this reimagining of Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol dragged on with sickly-sweet sentimentality and song, my eyes constantly tried to work out whether those snowflakes and reindeer were printed on the jerseys or, if knitted, how complicated the patterns would have been.

Christmas Karma (English)

Director: Gurinder Chadha

Starring: Kunal Nayyar, Leo Suter, Charithra Chandran, Pixie Lott, Danny Dyer, Boy George, Hugh Bonneville, Billy Porter, Eva Longoria, Mia Lomer

Storyline: A miserly businessman learns the true meaning of Christmas when visited by ghosts of Christmas past, present and future

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Runtime: 114 minutes

Gurinder Chadha, who gave us the gorgeous Bend it Like Beckham (who wants to make aloo gobi when you can bend the ball like Beckham indeed) has served up an unappetising Bollywood song-and-dance version of Dickens’ famous Christmas story.

A still from the film

A still from the film
| Photo Credit:
True Bit Entertainment/YouTube

A curmudgeonly Indian businessman, Ishaan Sood (Kunal Nayyar), fires his entire staff on Christmas Eve—except his accountant, Bob (Leo Suter)—after catching them partying at the office. Sood’s nephew, Raj (Shubham Saraf) invites him for a Christmas party which he refuses to attend.

He returns home after yelling at some carol singers for making a noise, the shopkeeper (Nitin Ganatra) at the corner for his business decisions and a cabbie (Danny Dyer) for being too cheerful.

His cook-housekeeper, Mrs. Joshi (Shobu Kapoor) tells him to enjoy his dinner in the dark as he has not paid for heat or electricity. He is visited by the spirit of his dead business partner, Marley (Hugh Bonneville), who is in chains with the spirits of all the people he wronged. Marley’s spirit tells Sood that he will be visited by three spirits who will reveal important life lessons.

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A still from the film

A still from the film
| Photo Credit:
True Bit Entertainment/YouTube

The Ghost of Christmas Past (Eva Longoria), with Day of the Dead makeup and three mariachis providing musical accompaniment, shows Sood his early, happy days in Uganda as a child and the trauma of being expelled from the country by Idi Amin.

Sood comes to Britain where his father dies of heartbreak and decides the only way out is to earn a lot of money. He meets and falls in love with Bea (Charithra Chandran) but loses her when he chooses paisa over pyaar even though he tries to tell her he is being ruthless only to earn enough to keep her in luxury.

The Ghost of Christmas Present (Billy Porter) shows Bob’s twee house full of Christmas cheer, despite the roast chicken past its sell-by date, and his young son, Tim, bravely smiling despite his illness.

The Ghost of Christmas Future (Boy George, Karma is sure a chameleon!) shows Sood dying alone except for Bob and Mrs. Joshi. He sees the error of his ways and throws much money around as he makes everything alright. He even ends up meeting up with his childhood friend in Uganda.

Apart from the mixed messages (money makes everything alright, let us pray for the NHS but go to Switzerland to get well) and schmaltzy songs, Christmas Karma suffers from weak writing and wooden acting.

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Priyanka Chopra’s Hindi rendition of George Michael’s ‘Last Christmas’ runs over the end credits featuring Chadha and the crew, bringing back fond memories of Bina Mistry’s ‘Hot Hot Hot’ from Bend it Like Beckham. Even a sitar version by Anoushka Shankar is to no avail as watching this version of A Christmas Carol ensures bad karma in spades.

Christmas Karma is currently running in theatres

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Movie Reviews

Dust Bunny

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Dust Bunny

An orphaned girl hires her hitman next-door neighbor to kill the monster under her bed. This R-rated action/horror movie mashup has lots of violence but surprisingly little gore. However, there are still many gruesome moments, even if they’re just offscreen. And some language and a strange portrayal of Christian worship come up, too.

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