Ryan Coogler on 'Sinners' Vampire Villain, Irish Blues Ties

Though Ryan Coogler’s latest film "Sinners" presents itself as a vampire horror story, its true brilliance lies in vividly recreating 1930s Mississippi—blending historical atmosphere with blues music (once condemned as "the devil’s music") to explore its predominantly African-American cast. Michael B. Jordan delivers a standout dual performance as twin brothers Smoke and Stack.

"Beyond the blood vampires thirst for, ‘Sinners’ pulses with music—beginning with the blues performers Sammie [Miles Caton] and Delta Slim (Delroy Lindo) play at Smoke and Stack’s establishment," notes Eric Goldman in his glowing Sinners review for IGN. "Coogler transforms this into a meditation on music’s universal power—how it connects generations, often subconsciously. Even Remmick (Jack O’Connell), the vampires’ charismatic leader, creates a striking parallel: his Irish folk heritage increasingly intertwines with the story."

By weaving together African-American blues and Irish folk traditions, Coogler exposes shared colonial traumas between humans and vampires. Both musical styles feature breathtaking sequences that—as Goldman observes—make "Sinners" a cinematic symphony, demonstrating how music transcends time to immortalize its creators.

During our conversation, Coogler discussed blues music’s narrative role in "Sinners," the film’s showstopping musical sequences, and why vampire antagonist Remmick proved as personal to craft as "Black Panther’s" Killmonger. (This interview has been edited for clarity.)

IGN: How does blues music define this world and its characters?

Ryan Coogler: It affirms their full humanity—embracing flesh and soul alike. Historically condemned alongside church music, the blues refuses to sanitize human experience. Where religion edits out darkness, blues shouts: "Here’s my anger, my lust, my flaws." Juke joints became sanctuaries where sharecroppers could reclaim their bodies—where "sexy" wasn’t buried under cotton fields.

"Writing Remmick electrified me like no other antagonist—I adored crafting him."

IGN: Your vampires unite diverse humans into a collective. How intentional was that commentary?

Ryan Coogler: Honestly, I want audiences to claim their own interpretations. But Remmick? He’s my heartbeat here—more personal than Killmonger. Subverting expectations thrilled me: a vampire who empathizes with marginalized people, whose Irish heritage mirrors their oppression. Introducing him solo—not amidst a preformed coven—let us discover his complexity gradually.

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IGN: Those two musical sequences—the juke joint and vampire revelry—are transcendent.

Ryan Coogler: They’re the film’s soul. Consider Irish stepdance—born from rebellion, its rigid posture a silent protest. When Remmick gravitates to Clarksdale’s blues scene, it’s no accident. Both cultures weaponize joy against oppression. For modern audiences drowning in cynicism, I wanted that gut-punch wonder—like Jurassic Park’s dinosaurs felt in ’93.

Sinners: Behind the Scenes

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IGN: The juke joint scene’s continuous shot plays with time brilliantly—was that always planned?

Ryan Coogler: Absolutely. Vampirism alone couldn’t capture music’s transcendent power. That scene channels a universal truth: witnessing genius—like Coltrane’s saxophone wails—feels supernatural. Cinema uniquely conveys that out-of-body awe. These musicians’ grandparents dreamed of freedom; through blues, they time-travel to dance with descendants.

"Irish folk thrives on contradiction—heartbreak sung with gusto. Same as delta blues: enslaved people singing freedom."

IGN: The vampires’ Irish folk sequence lands like a cultural gut-punch.

Ryan Coogler: Exactly! "Rocky Road to Dublin" recounts horrors with infectious energy—much like how blues masks sorrow with rhythm. Both cultures whisper rebellion through art. When Remmick recognizes kindred spirits across racial lines? That’s cinema’s magic—finding unity in shared defiance.

IGN: Celebrating despite everything.

Ryan Coogler: Damn right. Oppressed people worldwide hide messages in melody. The British never grasped Irish songs’ true meanings—just as plantation owners missed blues’ coded resistance. Remmick’s epiphany? That unshakable spirit—whether Irish or Black—is why filmmaking excites me.