Sinners is a film about tradition, folklore, culture, and survival. It is a story of community and faith fighting against overwhelming odds. In it, there are elements of period drama, Southern Gothic, action film, and pure horror. None of them chafe or feel like contradictions.

For almost two and a half hours, director Ryan Coogler weaves together a spellbinding and mythic epic that breathes new life into the genre. Sinners is a work of exquisite craftsmanship that triumphantly recontextualizes folklore with human evil.

It's the story of twin brothers Smoke and Stack (Michael B. Jordan), who've burnt bridges while running from their problems so thoroughly, that the only place left to go is back home. There, in the midst of plantations and segregation, they plan to start a new bar. A fresh start that ties together the community in music. They hire the young Sammie (Miles Caton) to play guitar, Delta Slim (Delroy Lindo) for harmonica, and Smoke's former love, Annie, to tend the bar. For a brief moment, it looks like life can resume better than it once was.

But the night in the Delta holds more dangers than any of them could expect, and not all the dangers are entirely human.

That's as much as I think you should know, even if the trailer gives away plenty. Sinners is at its best when experienced unaware, as it revels in crafting a lived-in world and populating it with characters who feel textured and alive. For a good hour and a half, I forgot this was a horror film, even as the film reminded me of it within the first five minutes. Writer and director Ryan Coogler's exceptional talents bring the slice of life tale to vivid reality. It just happens to live in the realm of the horror genre.

Credit, too, must be given to Michael B. Jordan, who single-handedly carries the film in the double act of twins Smoke and Stack. At first, I worried this was a gimmick that would detract from the story. Instead, within minutes I was convinced these were two different people, and not one single actor. Jordan gives both men weight, ticks, and a spirit that is wholly distinct from the other. It's a bravura performance that never once betrays the audience. We love both of these uncompromising men.

Equally impressive are the supporting players such as Wunmi Mosaku, Hailee Steinfeld, Li Jun Li, and Delroy Lindo. They're all people who've drifted in and out of the lives of the twins, and now have found their way back again into the Delta. The writing and acting is so good they could each hold a film of their own and it would be fascinating. We hear bits and pieces of past lives, including devastating fates at the hands of an inhumane America trying to rebrand itself as a land of equality, and every morsel feels like a microcosm worth exploring.

Horror is a genre that is ultimately built on empathy. We have to first care about the characters before something bad happens to them. Otherwise we might as well watch meat at the grinder. Coogler's unhurried direction plays into the strengths of the genre. By the time bad things start to happen, it feels truly devastating. I found myself clenching my hands and hoping nothing would befall these people who I had come to care about.

Then, once again understanding his audience's needs perfectly, Coogler summons up not one, but two musical sequences that break down time and space entirely. History, tradition, culture, companionship, love, past and present all meld into a delirious single-take sequence where the movie roars into life.

It's a piece of filmmaking that elevates a mere genre picture to something grander and paints a portrait of the American experiment seen through the eyes of those who've survived against all odds. Rich in theme and metaphor, it makes Sinners a subversive genre epic that is both a tremendous time at the movies, but also an important piece of a larger conversation we've had for hundreds of years.