“Sinners” - A Revelation in Sound

I’d seen the trailer—but truthfully, I had no idea what awaited me. All I knew was Ryan Coogler was behind a period piece vampire film, and that alone was enough. (lowkey – I have an infatuation with vampires, so I was in there) No ifs, ands, or buts.

After 26 minutes of previews (yes, 26, which I only knew because A-nat pointed it out lol), the screen finally opened to what would be a beautifully crafted film… but what I/we didn’t expect was to be ministered to.

From the very first narration, I knew this would be something divine. We’re told a legend—of musicians gifted with such cosmic resonance that their sound could pierce the border between the living and the dead. They could call forth spirits from both the past and the future. That power, we’re told, is both a blessing and a burden. It can heal, but it can also attract darkness.

I sat up. My soul was ready.

spoilers ahead

We follow Sammie, a preacher’s son aching to follow his calling as a musician. His father warns him: be mindful of the music. What you call can come. But Sammie, driven by destiny and backed by his twin cousins (played by Michael B. Jordan), helps open a juke joint full of promise and pulse.

Then comes the scene. Sammie steps onto the stage and sings. And as he does, the border between life and death, past and future are crossed. His voice becomes a channel—blending ancestral African and Native melodies with modern-day trap and DJ culture. It wasn’t just a performance. It was a spiritual invocation. The kind of unbridled, soul-deep singing that cracks open the atmosphere. That invites something holy. Or haunting.

It reminded me of the exact rise we feel in church when the right voice takes us to a place beyond sound—into worship, into memory, into the stars.

But this voice also calls predators.

The vampires arrive—summoned not just by blood, but by sound. Sammie’s voice awakens something in the leader of the vampires, the yearning of reconnecting him to a long-lost lineage. And suddenly, the sacred becomes a target.

And as a Black creative, this resonated deeply. We, as a people, are magic incarnate. Our culture, our rhythms, our sound, they birth the blueprint that the world copies again and again. Not to make this about race, but the metaphor was clear: a white vampire, mesmerized by Sammie’s gift, ready to steal it for his own purpose. He saw the sacred but only wanted the power.

This film masterfully portrayed the cosmic truth of sound. Of frequency. That music is a gateway. It can elevate and align, but it can also open doors we may not be ready for. It’s why being intentional with what we create, and consume, isn’t just spiritual hygiene, it’s spiritual survival.

The film was a mirror. It reflected the dangers that come when your gift is misunderstood, commodified, or co-opted. But it also reminded me of the grace of it. Of how powerful the voice truly is. So, when Sammie held on to his guitar at the end, it held truth of him owning his responsibility to his gift. To hold it. To grow in it.

And in that theater, I felt Spirit whisper:

"This is the very thing you were born to explore."

I've been working on a project that journeys the same truths about sound, about legacy, about the divine nature of resonance. So, to see it come alive on screen was both confirmation and a celestial nudge.

It reminded me that our gifts are never just for us. But we must know them. Tend to them. Protect them. And when Spirit nudges, we answer. Even if vampires come, let them be witness to your light—perhaps even transformed by it.

So, here’s my call to you:

Let your art move like water from the heavens. Let it channel the ancestors and the galaxies. Let it cross the barrier of the unknown.

Because when it does—you’ll know: It’s accomplished.

Hat’s off to Ryan Coogler and his entire team. Sinners isn’t just a film, it’s a frequency. And I can’t wait to experience it again. I know there’s more I didn’t catch. Spirit always leaves room for a third and fourth revelation.

Side note:

The score itself was a sermon—blues drifting into, what is now, (white dominated) country, all carried on the backs of Black musical genius.

That invites something holy. Or haunting.