A Closer Listen
Warning: Contains minor spoilers! It’s been two weeks since I’ve seen the film, and one week since I’ve seen the film again, and I can’t get the music out of my head. Ludwig Göransson‘s Sinners may not only be the best film score of the year, but the best film score of many years. To play the score (and soundtrack) again is to relive the experience of the film; but to hear the music separately is to appreciate its genius even more.
Göransson is Ryan Coogler‘s go-to composer (Black Panther, Creed), and has also scored for Christopher Nolan, most notably Oppenheimer. In television, his most famous score is The Mandalorian. But Sinners is a different beast, as the film is about music, with some vampires thrown in; the vampires are attracted to the music, which “pierces the veil between life and death.” If Sammie (newcomer Miles Caton) were not so good at playing guitar, it’s possible no one would have died.
The film’s main genre is the blues, but Göransson uses this as a starting point, expanding outward like spikes on a wheel. The key scene, represented by “I Lied to You” on the soundtrack and “Magic What We Do (Surreal Montage)” on the score, revisits the movie’s opening line, which is repeated by the narrator: “There are legends of people with a gift of making music so true, it can conjure spirits from the past and the future.” The scene contains African dancing, Asian instrumentation, Jimi Hendrix guitar, a DJ, an MC, a breakdancer and a twerker. But this isn’t the only place in the film where genres mix; right from the start, Göransson shifts from blues to modern composition to electronics, sometimes only for a few notes. In the film (and soundtrack), the vampires adapt an old blues song, turning it into a sinister Appalachian fiddle number. In perhaps the second-most audacious musical scene, Black and white dance an Irish jig to “Rocky Road to Dublin.”
Many of the tracks are injected with multiple moods; “Why You Here” is mournful and sad, but also celebratory. Sammie (played later in the film by Buddy Guy) first strums, then attacks the guitar, then begins to sing without words; meanwhile, the strings convey a sense of foreboding that is heightened in the second viewing, as one knows what is coming. “Not What He Seems/Sé Abú” sneaks in “Rocky Road to Dublin” so subtly that one hardly notices the first time; then the cello enters, conveying a deep sense of menace. At the end of the track, the massive final theme is previewed, the drama pushed to the nth degree; and all this just before “Music What We Do.”
In one of the film’s greatest scenes, Delta Slim (Delroy Lindo), relates the tale of an old friend who almost escaped the Deep South, only to be lynched, castrated and murdered. Words give way to a deep, heartrending, repeated cry, and then he starts to stomp and sing: the genesis of the blues, all in one scene. “Mount Bayou” continues this tragic sub-theme, which extends throughout the film; sadly, vampires are not the worst enemy. Their offer of true equality is more insidious because it is tempting: not the false promise of a Klansman who is now himself a vampire. (As an aside, one wonders if the director was tempted to call the film Klanpires, but we’re glad he didn’t.)
The score is 71 minutes long, the soundtrack 72. Music permeates the film to the extent that one might consider it to be the main character. As Göransson mixes genres, Coogler mixes emotions: one of the most horrifying scenes in the film is offset by corresponding music on the stage: Jayme Lawson leading the entire party, stomping on wood, belting out the chorus of “Pale Pale Moon,” hearkening back to Delta Slim’s signature scene.
Toward the end, themes that were once intimate grow increasingly dramatic, especially the five-note motif. Choirs and drums up the ante, making “Thy Kingdom Come” one of the scariest pieces; even here, Göransson momentarily relents, injecting a sorrowful interlude. In “Grand Closin’ (feat. Gales, Eric),” descending string scales are met by raucous guitar, connecting back to “Magic What We Do,” and one realizes that it may be hard for Sammie to “bury that guitar.” And then (spoiler alert for sure!), in the first post-credit scene, a surprise guest, deep in the future, admits to Buddy Guy that he prefers “the real,” leading to yet another revelatory number. But the final post-credit scene takes place before the film’s first scene, toying once again with the “spirits from the past and the future.” The soundtrack”s only misstep is to embed this music in the opening track instead of saving it for the bitter yet transcendent end. In contrast, the score ends perfectly, with Caton on “Free For A Day,” all things drawn to completion.
Sony may have been caught off guard by the popularity of the music, as these records won’t drop until September 26. Download them now, buy them then, spin them forever. (Richard Allen)
Fri May 09 00:01:34 GMT 2025