Sinners is one of the most creative films I’ve seen in a long time. It blends several genres at

once: a 1920s period piece, Quentin Tarantino–style gangster violence, and—most

surprisingly—a vampire film intertwined with a kind of documentary about how blues

music traveled from the Deep South to Chicago.

 

One actor plays two characters simultaneously, and you find yourself wondering how

certain scenes were filmed—especially when the two characters embrace, whether in

affection or in a fight.

 

The film deserves an Oscar for its sheer creative vision. I’m not someone who usually

enjoys Quentin Tarantino–style violence, yet here the violence is embedded in such a rich

and imaginative context that I was able to watch the entire film without recoiling. I’m also

not a fan of vampire movies, but the gradual transition from a realistic drama into a vampire

story makes the shift feel surprising and original.

Imagine Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” emerging unexpectedly within a serious drama—one

that never prepares you for the moment when vampires suddenly appear and turn on the

humans.

 

The creativity of the film continues right to the very end. Just when the credits begin to roll,

another surprise appears. The story continues, and suddenly we find ourselves in the middle

of what feels like a music documentary.

No lover of film should miss Sinners.