AQW

Title: Sinners (2025) – A Stylish Letdown Drenched in Symbolism Rating: ★★☆☆☆ (2/5) Review: Sinners wants to be a deep, gothic meditation on race, trauma, and survival — but it drowns in its own symbolism. The dialogue is flat, the pacing is painfully slow, and the vampire twist comes way too late to save the film from boredom. While the cinematography is on point, the characters lack chemistry and the social commentary falls into hypocrisy — condemning racism while relying on tired Irish stereotypes. It’s like Get Out met From Dusk Till Dawn… and then forgot what story it was telling. Only watch if you're into slow burns with style over substance. Otherwise, this one’s for the skip list. Extended Review: "Sinners" – A Gothic Sermon With A Side of Hypocrisy By AkhiVision Films In Sinners, director Ryan Coogler attempts to brew a rich Southern horror cocktail of racial trauma, mysticism, and bloodthirsty revenge. But instead of serving us a bold cinematic drink, he hands over a lukewarm herbal tea: vaguely bitter, confusingly sweet, and pretending to be healing. The film opens like it’s about to deliver something profound — slow jazz, dusty roads, haunted Black protagonists with war trauma and ancestral burdens. It wants to say: this is about us. But as the plot creaks forward at the pace of a broken record, the “us” starts to feel very selective. Because here come the vampires. And surprise! The Big Bad is an eerily pale, fiddle-playing, redheaded Nosferatu that looks like he moonlights in Riverdance: The Bloodletting Edition. At first, you might think it’s just a quirky creative choice. But as the film slathers on fiddle music, Celtic symbols, and unnaturally thick Irish brogues, it becomes clear: this is not homage. It’s a lazy casting of Irish-coded whiteness as ancient evil — an old trope in a new coat. And therein lies the true horror: Sinners dares to confront racism, but does so by othering someone else. It decries anti-Black oppression, while building its climax on a one-dimensional, mystical Irish villain who exists solely to be slayed. That’s not progress. That’s just trading places on the hierarchy of hate. Where Jordan Peele offered nuance in Get Out, and even Tarantino gave his racial metaphors messy honesty in Django, Sinners gives us the cinematic equivalent of a university essay that forgot to read the final chapter. It preaches revolution, but ends in contradiction. It wants to be righteous, but ends up being self-righteous. And most ironically of all, the only thing truly drained by the end isn’t the characters — it’s the viewer’s patience.