Sinners: The Griot Archetype

To watch Ryan Coogler’s Sinners before it left IMAX theatres took a last resort measure because we didn’t have a sitter. As the praise poured in for the film, our despair grew so bad that we finally decided to watch the movie alone. My husband dropped me off for the matinee with our son in the car seat, and even though I’d never gone to the theatre alone, it was worth it. Like a getaway car, when the movie was over, I found my husband double-parked in front, and we quickly switched places before my son could even notice a thing. He was able to catch the very next showing after mine, and when I swung back to get him, we agreed we’d just watched a dope movie.

It’s a really cool thing to have watched all of a director’s films, all of which have centered around black characters: Fruitvale Station, Creed, Black Panther, and its sequel. Sinners is Coogler’s fifth film, the first he wrote that wasn’t part of another franchise or based on someone else’s true story. Sinners is rich with themes and lore, giving it soul, the very thing the antagonist, the old Irish vampire Remmick, seeks. The influences of other vampire stories are there like the film From Dusk Till Dawn, where the events of the movie happen in one day and the characters are trapped with vampires surrounding them as they try to hold out until sunrise; or Salem’s Lot the novel by Stephen King about a vampire who arrives in a small town and infests everyone. I loved the mix of the traditional vampire lore and West African mythology. The protagonist, Sammie Moore, the Preacher’s boy “who has the real in him,” is a blues-loving musician representing the archetype of the griot. With his gift of singing and guitar, he can “pierce the veil between life and death, conjuring spirits from the past and the future.” In his acting debut, Miles Caton plays 19-year-old Sammie in the Mississippi Delta in 1932 (where there is a Chinese-American population as well) with a sweet and innocent disposition that makes his powerful singing voice resonate all the more. Michael B. Jordan, ever the leading man, plays two roles as identical twin brothers Smoke and Stack, who return to their hometown in Mississippi to open a juke joint after stealing from two gangs in Chicago. Their desire to open a business “for us by us” speaks to the meaningful theme of freedom woven throughout Sinners.

One of the most visceral scenes in the movie is when Sammie’s gift of music and role as griot take center stage at the juke joint’s grand opening. His ability to conjure the spirits from the past and future of black and Chinese music when he starts performing “I Lied to You,” transcends what Slim, the man handpicked by Stack to play the keys at his juke, had earlier admonished Sammie for: “He’s so young, what he knows ‘bout the blues?” But it’s not only good spirits that arrive; Sammie’s music also attracts the evil lurking nearby, needing an invitation–the vampires. I thought it was interesting that what draws Remmick to Sammie’s music is his desire to also be connected to his loved ones because he can’t die; he’ll never be free. He sees a kinship with the black characters as his own Irish people were oppressed, and demonstrates their commonality when he recites alongside Sammie the prayer that was also forced on him, the Our Father. Remmick isn’t just hungry for their blood. He wants their stories and songs. But like their future descendants will have to do with their culture, Smoke and the others inside protect Sammie from the devil’s clutches.

I loved Sinners’ opening scene. The movie takes place over one day and showing a bit of the ending first was such a great way to suck us into Sammie’s journey. He’s bloodied, scratched up, and carrying what’s left of his beat-up guitar as he drives up to a church and stumbles inside. Horrific images of what he’s endured flash across the screen. It’s haunting when we’re then transported one day earlier, and the pastor, who turns out to be Sammie’s father, tells him in a foreshadowing manner, “Keep dancing with the devil, one day it’s gonna follow you home.” There was a recent episode of the Joe Rogan Experience podcast that I listened to twice with filmmaker Robert Rodriguez as the guest, speaking sagely about creativity in the simplest terms. Robert talks about how he wanted the creative work to happen with him just chilling, doing nothing. He wanted it to be that easy. I know I’ve wished for that, too, but that’s not at all how it works. As Robert explains, you need a tool—a pen, a laptop, a guitar—something to serve as the conduit for the work to happen. You need to get to work. That’s when the Muse can appear. 

After the vampire attack, Sammie must decide if he heeds his father’s advice and give up the blues. But as he sings in “I Lied to You,” he’s full of the blues. He loves it too much. In that chilling ending, Sammie’s trembling hand holds on to that last piece of wood and tangled strings. Even after everything he has seen, he can’t let the guitar go. Through his power of music, he can open a portal for the magic to happen. And that is beautiful. He’s the only one to survive the night intact because he has so much to give. Sinners is about a lot of things, but what I loved most was the sacred role of the storyteller and the importance of protecting them at all costs. Even for the price of one’s soul. Sammie’s story is over, but it’ll be exciting to see where this franchise goes as we enter a new chapter of vampires rocking the Jesus piece.

Have you seen Sinners? What was your takeaway? Leave a comment!