The Crossroads, the Dream, and the Blues
Watching Sinners left me thinking deeply about the blues, not just as a central theme of the film, but as the heartbeat of music history itself.
The 2025 box office hit is set in 1930s Clarksdale, Mississippi, where twins Smoke and Stack, both played by Michael B. Jordan, return home with dreams of opening a juke joint. But the soul of the story belongs to their cousin Sammie, brought to life by an outstanding performance from Miles Caton. Sammie, the son of a pastor, longs to be the next Robert Johnson. And like the myth of Johnson, who was said to have sold his soul to the devil at the crossroads in exchange for unparalleled talent, Sammie’s journey is marked by a tension between spiritual duty and artistic ambition. It’s no surprise his father warned him about the blues, but like many small-town dreamers, Sammie couldn’t let it go.
The community gathers at the juke to drink, dance, and celebrate. For a moment, it seems like everything is falling into place. But then we meet Remmick (Jack O’Connell), an Irish vampire drawn to the raw power of Sammie’s voice. When Sammie performs “I Lied to You”—a blues confession to his father and a declaration of love for the music—the energy in the room shifts. The juke becomes exactly what the twins dreamed of. Remmick, seemingly possessed by the performance, longs to be invited in—not just to experience it, but to take it. He’s not just after Sammie’s music; he wants to possess his gift and remake him in his own image.
That pivotal performance marks a turning point, not only in the film, but in its message. As Sammie plays, the dance floor becomes something surreal: a shared space between past and future. Rock stars, djembe drummers, club-goers, modern DJs, African tribal dancers, and a ballerina take the floor. What does it all mean? It’s a powerful visual metaphor, linking music’s evolution to its roots. It shows how the blues, born from pain and perseverance, has echoed through generations—from rock and soul to hip-hop and electronic music. It’s a reminder that the blues isn’t just a relic of the past, it’s the root of so much that still moves us today.
The blues really is at the heart of it all. It came from African musical traditions brought to America during the slave trade—things like call-and-response, rhythm, storytelling, and using music as a release. For enslaved people, music wasn’t just expression, it was survival. Most of the time, these were improvised work songs, made up on the spot to cope with the harsh realities they faced. That rawness, that connection to something spiritual, became a huge part of what would eventually become the blues.
But even after emancipation, life didn’t get much easier. The South, especially places like the Mississippi Delta, was still full of struggle. And that’s where the blues really took shape. Artists like Robert Johnson and Charley Patton helped define what we now call Delta blues: powerful vocals, acoustic guitar, and haunting slide techniques that gave voice to both the pain and beauty of Black life in America.
Pop, hip-hop, jazz, rock, soul, country—you name it, the influence of blues is everywhere. From call-and-response and improvisation to the 12-bar progression and raw, emotional storytelling, the blues laid the foundation for how artists create, perform, and connect. Sinners captures that legacy beautifully, reminding us that the blues didn’t just shape music, it shaped the way music makes us feel. And Remmick? He just wanted a taste of that soul, but forgot the blues doesn’t come without a price.
