OPINION: Bloodsucking blues

Shoutout to the Iowa Theater in Winterset for being the first - and most likely only - of the six area movie theaters to show “Sinners” this weekend. I was able to catch their 2 p.m. screening on Sunday, and, even though it was just me and one other person, I was glad the theater was able to show it. They’ve certainly got a new regular.

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Ryan Coogler throughout his filmography, from indie origins in “Fruitvale Station” to the meteor that was “Black Panther,” has always had one goal: tell the stories of the people who look and talk like him. This isn’t just about diversity, it’s the preservation of his culture.

Pairing frequent collaborator Michael B. Jordan and Coogler may be the more visible and thematically cohesive study of the director’s continuing work, but it’s worth mentioning the full trio of collaboration with composer Ludwig Göransson. It’s not just that Göransson has fully committed to Coogler’s war plan of preserving black culture; he’s conscious of the history and evolution powering it.

Perhaps there’s some irony of a white man named Ludwig composing the Afrofuturistic “Black Panther” and now the blues of “Sinners.” But just as preacher boy Sammie grips the neck of his Dobro guitar as if his life is tied to it, so do Coogler and Göransson grasp an undeniable triumph in the music of “Sinners.”

A blues score is a surprising attraction to this vampire horror movie. The film calls its shot as soon as the Warner Bros. logo fades away, narrating about music which goes beyond the laws of time. Then, “Sinners” shows it with the resonant power of the blues.

This music is the one undeniable treasure which, even after continuously being pillaged by white powers born out of racist luxury, can always lead back to black history.

So when Jack O’Connell leads his troupe of white vampires to play a cornbread version of “Pick Poor Robin Clean” - it’s played for a laugh. It’s a literal assimilation of a blues song into a toe-tapping jig; what could possibly be a better representation of what Coogler and “Sinners” is trying to say?

“Sinners,” Warner Bros.’ third attempt of the year at the multirole actor within Jordan’s dual role as twins Smoke and Stack, is less focused on the star power of Coogler’s strongest soldier and more about newcomer Miles Canton and his voice which demands a clef lower than bass. Canton as boyish Sammie, who strums his guitar with a slide on his ring finger, has no reason for hardship as the son of a preacher, even in Jim Crow-era south.

Sammie could easily find himself in the same role of passing his father’s religion, but he doesn’t. Maybe it’s because this religion was pushed to his father by his ancestors, who had Christianity pushed by their masters as slaves.

Maybe he just didn’t like gospel music; thank God (or not) because the pipes on Canton are utterly exceptional for singing the blues. It becomes an obsession, enamoring the vampires who terrorize the ensemble and surprising one of Jordan’s twins, Stack.

Those twins, arriving in style with pistols in their suits after running away with a whole lot of cash from Chicago, have made it back to Mississippi and plan to open a juke joint. As they advertise and scramble for their opening day, the twins make it clear whatever crime they did will one day catch up with them. But for now - and despite the clearly racist man selling them property - they’re making the best of it.

Smoke teaches a young girl he hires how to properly negotiate for better pay. Stack pulls a cotton picker away to be security and lures away a drunk pianist, seen through a wonderful Delroy Lindo, to play for them.

Both Smoke and Stack reunite with former loves, and slowly a lovable cast is gathered out of shared history. Yet, as if called upon by the undeniable catharsis of living free, along comes some white vampires ready to colonize.

There are some unfortunate critiques. The awfully narrow 2.76:1 aspect ratio, meant to expand in IMAX screenings but unfortunately remained squashed in mine, often feels too claustrophobic to capitalize on Autumn Durald Arkapaw’s cinematography.

The obvious metaphor at play in Coogler’s vampire jam can sometimes lead to monotonous viewing. When a few well-realized characters are unceremoniously turned off-screen, the impact of the loss isn’t felt consistently.

These vampires, with traditional jagged fangs and red eyes as they aim to bite the neck and shoulder, aren’t the most inventive of horrors either. Any knowledge of the rules of vampires often deflates what should be a haunting and slow creep.

But, more often than not, the deliberate retooling of vampire mythology in “Sinners” provides the bloodsucking with haunting new meaning. What does letting a stranger into a personal culture really mean?

Negotiating, something Smoke clearly places an emphasis on, is a survival technique. Sometimes, you have to shoot first and ask questions later. When negotiation fails, blood spills. And for some people, you don’t negotiate.

By the end of “Sinners” and its powerful post-credits coda, nothing is more clear than how survival is a consistent, everlong pursuit of freedom. To be free to play that guitar no matter where or who you are.

Black history has always been a story of surviving horror. No other people have seen the devil in the faces of enslavers, rapists and thieves. It’s not easy to let the devil speak of assimilation, not when assimilation really means erasure.