Set in 1932 Mississippi, Sinners is a haunting, atmospheric tale rooted in the music, spirituality, kinship, and resilience of Black Southern communities. But Coogler threads a deeper, more violent current through the narrative that recognizes the interwoven legacies and scars of the oppressed.
Michael B. Jordan plays twin brothers, Smoke and Stack, who return home hoping to build something better for themselves and their community. Using stolen mob money, they buy a sawmill from a racist landowner and convert it into a juke joint for the local Black community, a place of refuge and joy.
Their cousin Sammie, a supernaturally talented musician, joins them despite his preacher father’s disapproval and warning about the dangers of his “sinful” music, saying, “If you keep dancing with the devil, one day he’s gonna follow you home.”
They’re soon surrounded by collaborators, including singer Pearline, harmonicist Delta Slim, Smoke’s estranged wife Annie, local shopkeepers Bo and Grace Chow, and Cornbread. But their vision is soon threatened, not just by the realities of the Jim Crow South, but by an Irish Vampire, Remmick, who feeds not just on blood but on memory, loss, and cultural erasure. As the juke joint comes to life, tensions rise between faith and tradition, memory and survival, the living and the undead.
Sinners is a masterclass in symbolism and storytelling. There are so many important conversations happening surrounding the symbolism and meaning, the history and folklore. But it’s one, blink-and-you-miss-it scene that caught my attention, the moment that Choctaw Vampire hunters appear hot on the heels of Remmick.
Coogler doesn’t center this moment, but he doesn’t need to. For those who know, it’s a powerful and unforgettable nod to the interconnectedness of our histories, horrors, and survival.
For those unfamiliar with those histories, the Choctaw and Irish share a bond forged in suffering and generosity. In 1847, during Ireland’s Great Hunger, the Choctaw, just sixteen years after the brutal Trail of Tears, where thousands died during the forced removal from their ancestral homelands, gathered and sent $170 (equivalent to $6,629.98 today) to aid Irish famine relief efforts. This act of generosity, made while the Choctaw were still grieving and rebuilding, was a powerful gesture of empathy between two peoples devastated by colonial violence. That gift forged an enduring bond that is remembered today and is honored in ceremonies and statues (like the Kindred Spirits sculpture in Cork, Ireland).
So when the Choctaw vampire hunters pursue Remmick, not as saviors but as protectors of their people, it flips the narrative in a brilliant and layered way. It’s not a betrayal of that historic kinship; it’s a confrontation with what happens when trauma becomes monstrosity. Remmick is not a representation of the Irish people, but the literal and symbolic rot of colonialism that continues to destroy and consume from one generation to the next, cloaked in different skins.
The inclusion of Choctaw vampire hunters in this world expands the film’s larger themes and reframes the usual horror tropes. Too often, Indigenous characters are relegated to stereotypes and victims. But here, the Choctaw hunters are skilled, deliberate, and empowered. They exist in the story not as a curiosity, not as a footnote or a flashback, but as a living representation of ongoing resistance against oppressive powers.
By threading this moment into a film already steeped in layered storytelling, from the haunting echoes of the blues to the threat of white supremacy, Coogler challenges viewers to reconsider whose stories are central to American horror and whose resistance has been overlooked.
In the end, Sinners is not just about vampires, it’s about survival and liberation as a legacy of Black resistance, a legacy that is also shared by Indigenous resistance through the parallels of our inextricably intertwined histories on US soil. It dares to center Black and Indigenous resilience without turning away from the horrors that shaped it. It’s a reminder that while monsters exist, so do the people who fight them, and they often look like the ones history tries to erase.
A huge shout-out to the following for their work with Sinners:
Tobiah Ben – Stunt Driver
Mark Patrick – Horseback Scout
Marco Patrick – Horseback Stunt Rider
Jaeden Wesley – Chanter
Jay Wesley – Choctaw Posse and Cultural Consultant
Eric Willis – Choctaw Posse
Cynthia Massey – Cultural Consultant
Sherrill Nickey – Cultural Consultant
