Sinners

There’s an old saying: a point in every direction is no point at all. I heard that saying echoing in my mind as I watched this film. I’m not really sure what this movie wants to be. A horror show? A study of race relations? An ode to music? A period piece? Crime drama? Yes, it’s all those things, but trying to do too much can make a muddle. So we have here, to a minor extent, though to be fair the story at its core never loses coherence; you don’t get lost in this narrative. There is one other problem: the gimmick of having Michael B. Jordan play dual roles means that it can be difficult to tell if you’re watching the character Smoke or Stack in crucial moments. Having said all that, there’s much to admire here, too. The performances are splendid all around, and the cinematography is absolutely gorgeous throughout. And most of the music is wonderful, too, though occasionally the attempts at genre cross-pollination detract rather than add to the tableau. So certainly, this is a fine movie and worthy of praise—I just wish people would let it rest at that, rather than go overboard and declare it to be the greatest thing that ever happened in the history of movies, if not humanity. When we commit that sin, it really does make one want to sing the blues.