First (and second) impressions of Sinners
Sinners is a film of two halves: daytime and nighttime. The first half is colorful, epic, and full of surprises; the second is shadowy, violent . . . and disappointing.
As Sinners opens, we find a spirited young Black man named Sammie (Miles Caton) — otherwise known as Preacherboy — having hurriedly finished his daily quota of cotton picking on a 1932 Mississippi plantation, and readying to head into town with his guitar to fulfill what he understands to be his purpose. This sets him at odds with his father, the preacher Jedidiah (Saul Williams), who warns him with a Bible recitation: 1 Corinthians 10:13. But Sammie interrupts him, showing off that he can quote the whole passage by heart:
“No temptation has overtaken you, except what is common to mankind. God is faithful. He will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you’re tempted he will also provide a way out so that you can endure it.”
Despite his father’s visible disappointment, Sammie gets into the car that waits for him — those are his older cousins, twin brothers Smoke and Stack (Michael B. Jordan, brilliant in dual roles), who have come to carry him away into this world of the temptation. And he’s off. We’re not sure yet whether to applaud his courage or to brace ourselves for trouble.
As it turns out, both responses are called for.
I’d argue that Sammie has every right to take his God-given talents and (to quote another passage I know) “let his light shine before men.” And he should be admired for carrying his artistic gifts into the world to perform with excellence.
But this world, as envisioned by writer/director Ryan Coogler (the filmmaker who brought us Black Panther and Creed), is fraught with peril. And artists are especially vulnerable there to all kinds of temptation and exploitation. Sammie, being Black in Mississippi, is in particular jeopardy. He’s vulnerable to temptations common to most men — yes, the liquor, the smoking, the gambling, the women who notice him (including Pearline, a particularly flirtatious married woman he finds irresistible). But he’s also vulnerable to exploitation. His cousins Smoke and Stack are infamous for their criminal enterprises, and they see in Sammie a potential attraction for their new business: a “juke joint” that will give the heavy-hearted Black community, weary from hard days in the cotton fields, a place to indulge in music, dancing, booze, and blues. What they don’t anticipate is just how much attention Sammie’s music will attract, drawing troublemakers to the joint like bears to a honeybee hive. They aren’t the only ones who see potential in Sammie’s power. Even the devil might want to do business with this blues man.