“You keep dancin’ with the devil? One day, he’s gonna follow you home.”

Clarksdale, Mississippi, where the Delta blues were born and midnight strangers lurk at the crossroads to tune your guitar. It’s 1932, and the infamous Smoke/Stack brothers (Michael B. Jordan in a dual role) arrive from Chicago with a business plan and a truckload of alcohol. Up-and-coming musician Sammie (Miles Caton) is tapped to perform at the popup juke joint as word of its grand opening spreads like wildfire. As the son of a preacher, however, his father Jedidiah (Saul Williams) warns his boy to forsake the worldly trappings he’s drawn to. The warning has merit, as some unique individuals possess a divine gift to pierce the veil with their music, bridging past, present, and future into one soulful song… and if a devil takes notice, they’ll covet that gift for their own.

Written and directed by Ryan Coogler, there appears to be almost too much going on from the brief glimpses in trailers and TV spots. Why are there two characters played by Michael B. Jordan? What’s with all the singing and dancing… and sweating? Are there otherworldly critters in this, like bloodsuckers or demons? Clearly a period piece full of scandalous activity, these ads suggest a lot but give away little… you know, the way any smart advertisement for a stylish film should be. Considering the reception and success of Coogler’s previous films like Creed, Fruitvale Station, and the Black Panther sequels for Marvel Studios, any inspired original production like this should be given a chance on pedigree alone. One night is about to change everything, but who will survive to see the dawn?

Sinners lays its scene with all the Southern Gothic trappings — forbidden desires, ample grotesquerie, and angsty alienation in the heat and humidity — where devils gamble with gold fiddles and haints stalk unsuspecting travelers on dark highways. Coogler quickly builds his story in overlapping character introductions, dropping hints of the past without resorting to lengthy flashbacks. All roads lead to a repurposed saw mill as the sun sets, the party cranks up, and souls are laid bare. While the original idea might have started as serving up tried and true “grilled cheese,” the choices and details herein quickly go gourmet, like tasting it again for the very first time. Those falling under its spell will want it all: the soundtrack, the score, the special home edition with all the extras, and another ticket for the next showing — yeah, it’s that good.

With a score recorded on an orchestra of apprehension engines and photography letting viewers feel the heat radiating from the screen, every element is finely tuned. The dual performance for Smoke and Stack initially resorts to only a couple of obvious camera tricks, but otherwise it’s as seamless as an episode of “Orphan Black.” Aside from Jordan’s obvious talent, performances by Andrene Ward-Hammond, Jayme Lawson, Delroy Lindo, Omar Benson Miller, Li Jun Li, and Hailee Steinfeld are all on point. Jack O’Connell’s part as Remmick is of particular interest, seemingly cast as a villain but who quickly becomes much more. Of course, it’s a trick of the devil to sound sympathetic and play the victim, but the character’s mix of truth and purpose strike a unique chord of kinship, making one question their real oppressors.

The necessary and welcome denouement borrows from the novel endings of Stephen King, going on much longer than needed, but you won’t mind. It’s an excuse to stay in Cooglerland for a few extra minutes… and it keeps going until the very last frame. If this kind of storytelling and filmmaking can’t resonate with you, do you even like movies? Feel free to get lost in the Delta, but if you meet the devil, tell him I sent you… then just keep on walking by.

Sinners is rated R for strong bloody violence, sexual content, language, and the best tasting Cornbread on both sides of the Mississippi.

Four skull recommendation out of four