By the spring of 2025, it became clear that horror; the moody misfit of cinema, the goth cousin at the awards season cotillion; was no longer content to lurk in the shadows. After years of being relegated to cult status and Halloween marathons, the genre is now doing something far more terrifying: becoming respectable. Films like Companion, Presence, Wolf Man, and even the gloriously unhinged M3GAN 2.0 have packed theaters, scared up serious box office, and earned the grudging respect of critics who usually prefer their suffering subtitled and bathed in beige lighting. And yet, despite its new lease on life, horror has remained persona non grata in the pristine halls of Oscar night, where trauma is only artful if it’s quiet.
Enter Sinners; Ryan Coogler’s genre-defying, blood-soaked epic starring Michael B. Jordan twice, as twin brothers. It’s equal parts Southern Gothic, Civil Rights allegory, and Tarantino fever dream, with just enough vampire lore to keep Anne Rice smiling in the afterlife. And it may very well become the first horror film since The Silence of the Lambs to bite into a Best Picture nomination without apologizing for its fangs.
To be clear: Sinners is not “a great horror movie.” It is a great movie, period. One that just happens to feature undead white supremacists, metaphorical and literal bloodletting, and a slow-burning dread that builds not just from jump scares, but from historical trauma.
Coogler, who first found cinematic soul with Fruitvale Station and then helped redefine superhero movies with Black Panther, here pulls off something even rarer: a horror film with genuine emotional heft. Where Robert Rodriguez once gleefully turned vampires into tequila-soaked grindhouse chaos, Coogler infuses them with soul; and stakes. Literal and figurative.
Set in the Jim Crow South of 1932 (because when is horror more appropriate?), Sinners follows Elijah “Smoke” Moore and Elias “Stack” Moore; two brothers with different temperaments but one goal: to reclaim land, open a juke joint, and create something that’s both refuge and rebellion. One is hot-headed and wrapped in crimson; the other cerebral in cool blues. Yes, it’s symbolic. And yes, Michael B. Jordan absolutely pulls off the double role with enough magnetism to qualify as a public utility.
Their supporting cast is similarly pitch-perfect: newcomer Miles Caton shines as their prodigy cousin Preacher Boy, Delroy Lindo grumbles wisdom as Delta Slim like he’s got bourbon in his veins, and Hailee Steinfeld and Wunmi Mosaku bring tenderness and steel as the women who love them. This is a world so vivid it practically sweats blues riffs and barbecue smoke.
And then, as all good horror films do, it gets ugly. A group of pale-faced strangers shows up, smiling the way cats do before they pounce. They claim to be musicians. They are not. What follows is not just a massacre, but a metaphor. The vampires here don’t just drain blood; they drain history, joy, autonomy. They’re systemic oppression with better teeth.
There’s a show-stopping sequence; a bravura tracking shot that floats through eras of Black musical expression, from drum circles to disco; that’s already being dissected in film studies programs and probably someone’s TikTok thread. It’s Coogler’s visual love letter to cultural survival. Or maybe it’s a flex. Either way, it works.
PURCHASE SINNERS IN 4K HERE
But this is still a horror film, and it doesn’t forget that. The scares are real, the tension unbearable, and the myth-building inspired. These aren’t your grandmother’s vampires. They share a hive mind, which makes them both harder to kill and a perfect stand-in for generational hatred. It’s a chilling conceit; one that turns even the quietest moment into something that might, at any second, bite.
If there’s a flaw, it’s the film’s first act, which simmers where it might sear. But what some might call slow, others will see as careful character construction. You need to care before the blood flows. And care you do. By the time the fangs come out, you’re too emotionally invested to look away.
Now, for those of us who have already sweated through our shirts in a movie theater this year, the home release of Sinners on 4K brings sweet relief; if not from the horror, then at least from overpriced popcorn.
The transfer is stunning. Shot on 65mm and IMAX, Sinners sings in high definition. The textures of sweat, dust, and blood have rarely looked more exquisite. The colors; those blazing reds, moody blues, candlelit yellows; pop with purpose. And the Dolby Atmos audio mix? It’s not just immersive, it’s alive. The vampires don’t just sneak up on you. They emerge from behind your couch with subwoofer-backed menace.
Bonus content includes a treasure trove of behind-the-scenes features, interviews, and production diaries. Unfortunately, there’s no audio commentary, which feels like a missed opportunity. I would have paid good money to hear Coogler and Jordan dissect every frame over bourbon and nervous laughter.
Still, this is a 4K release worth owning; both for the cinephile who appreciates fine craftsmanship and the horror fan who wants their scares with a side of significance. Sinners doesn’t just entertain. It interrogates, it celebrates, it haunts. And if the Academy has any sense; though let’s not get ahead of ourselves; it may just be the first horror film in over three decades to walk the champagne carpet without needing to hide its teeth. Until then, we’ll keep watching. With the lights on. And the volume up.
