Sinners: Buddy Guy’s Box-Office Blockbuster

There is a long history of blues musicians confronting supernatural evil. In this case, vampires replace hellhounds, but they certainly follow an accepted uncanny blues precedent. Fittingly, it takes place in storied Clarksdale, Mississippi, where two notorious former bootlegging twin brothers have returned to open a juke joint. Unfortunately, a vampire also comes to town in director-screenwriter Ryan Coogler’s Sinners, which is still playing in theaters.

Even though they have been gone for seven years, half of Clarksdale still remembers the identical “Smokestack” twins, Elijah “Smoke” Moore and Elais “Stack” Moore—the black half. The town’s severe racial divide is only bridged by Bo and Grace Chow, who operate general stores on both sides of the main street.

The Smokestacks intend to open a new juke, so they recruit crusty old bluesman Delta Slim and their young up-and-coming guitarist cousin Sammie “Preacher Boy” Moore to supply the entertainment. However, there is sure to be trouble since Stack’s biracial-but-passing ex, Mary is coming. So will Pearline, an inconveniently married vocalist, who has been giving Preacher Boy the eye.

However, the real trouble comes when Remmick, an old Celtic vampire, and a recently-turned former KKK married couple try to crash the party. Wisely, the Smokestacks are reluctant to invite in freaky white weirdos, but the vampires can be very persuasive and deceptive. Smoke’s ex-wife Annie might also have some insight into the evil lurking outside, as a hoodoo practitioner.

Eventually, the great Buddy Guy plays an important part in this tale, but it would spoilery to explain how. Regardless, it is safe to say his role plays to his strengths and it some ways serves as a glorious capstone to his legendary career. It should be noted his main appearance comes soon after the closing credits start—and it is a scene that holds great significance to the film’s narrative. (There is also a post-credits stinger that is worth sticking around for, but does not impact the storyline to any degree.)

Frankly, Buddy Guy deserves to have his name above the title. That said, Michael B. Jordan’s already considerable star-power raises even higher with his tour-de-force performance as the Smokestack Twins. He is all kinds of fierce and dangerously charismatic. It is an unusually accomplished and memorable portrayals of twins, even though the Smokestacks are not as sharply differentiated as the twins played by Theo James in The Monkey or Jeremy Irons in Dead Ringer—but he is still at that level.

Yet, perhaps the cast-member most deserving an awards campaign might be Delroy Lindo for his understated but still scene-stealing work as Delta Slim. He channels decades of blues lore, while getting most of the film’s laughs with Slim’s dry—yet well-lubricated, if you know what I mean—wit.

Another virtue that sets Sinners apart is the wealth of fully developed supporting characters—at least a dozen’s worth. Li Yun Li and Yao are definitely two standouts as the Chows, who turn out to be much more than convenient devices to travel between Clarksdale’s segregated halves. Plus, Jack O’Connell brings the bravura flamboyance of his Rogue Heroes character, but he manifests it in a much more sinister manner as the vampire Remmick.

LX 2048: A Dystopian Future We Already Sort-of Recognize

It is a work-from-home future, for those who still work. Productivity has nose-dived, because most people are heavily medicated (on Lithium x) and largely live in a virtual entertainment network called “the Realm.” Adam Bird is literally last person who still physically commutes to his brick-and-mortar office. That adds unexpectedly eerie echoes to director-screenwriter-editor Guy Moshe’s LX 2048, which releases on-demand tomorrow.

Bird does things the hard way, much to the constant frustration of his estranged wife Reena. He is one of the few people who still does business during daylight hours, despite the heavy hazmat suits required by the sun’s heightened radiation. He is dying and so is his soon to be obsolete gaming company. As a result, he is quite concerned for his family’s future.

Thanks to their insurance, Bird will be replaced by a clone once his heart finally gives out. However, he is more than a little concerned his replacement will find himself unemployed. Of course, he is not too thrilled about by the prospect of a clone taking his place. Increasingly desperate, Bird tracks down Donald Stein a brilliant but disgraced inventor. He might be able to help, but not in the way Bird originally anticipated.

Moshe’s screenplay swings wildly back and forth from fascinating and inspired examinations of the nature of humanity to some rather awkwardly over-melodramatic family angst. It is like the best parts of The Matrix mixed with the worst parts of Kramer vs. Kramer. However, when Delroy Lindo enters the picture as Stein, all bets are off. He gives the film a blast of hip, snarky energy, while also expressing many of the film’s philosophical insights.

Presumably, Moshe conceived of LX 2048 long before Covid-19 was a glimmer in some Wuhan bat’s eye (or whatever), but it is impossible not to see parallels when Bird drives through empty freeways to reach his lonely office. Such scenes are eerily executed and they gain in resonance, since they are suddenly so much more believable. However, some of the drama involving Bird and his wife feels over-blown. Frankly, it seems hard to believe the scrupulously off-line Bird could get so caught up in a relationship with an online avatar.

Cymbeline: The Bard of Anarchy

Not exactly comedy or tragedy, Cymbeline is considered by many critics Shakespeare’s sly attempt at self-parody. Its only highly quotable line is: “the game is up,” so it is no surprising it is one of the Bard’s least performed plays. Yet, that makes it considerably easier for Michael Almereyda to stage a liberty-taking modernized production. The battle fought by the Celtic British and the forces of Rome becomes a conflict between the British biker gang and the Rome Police Department in Almereyda’s Cymbeline (trailer here), which opens tomorrow in New York.

In many ways, Cymbeline really is a mash-up of Shakespeare’s greatest hits, starting with the star-crossed romance of Imogen and Posthumus Leonatus. Having secretly married, they have already gotten further than most Shakespearean lovers. However, Imogen’s father, Cymbeline the biker king, is less than thrilled when their union is revealed. Since he essentially promised Imogen to step-son Cloten, the loutish offspring of his Lady Macbethish second wife, it is a rather awkward turn of events for him. Fleeing Cymbeline’s wrath, Leonatus takes refuge in Italy (or somewhere more prosaic), where he encounters the Iago-like Iachimo. After listening to Leonatus boast of his wife’s fidelity, Iachimo wagers he can seduce the woman. It is a bet Iachimo will collect through deceit and subterfuge.

There is no avoiding the antiquated vibe of the Iachimo storyline, but Almereyda plays it up big anyway, because the old scoundrel is portrayed by Ethan Hawke. Much more successful is the geopolitical intrigue reconceived as the biker gang’s fraught dealings with the corrupt civic constabulary. Some things are timeless, whereas as other are very much a product of their time and place.

Of course, Ed Harris as a leather jacket wearing biker monarch blasting away with an assault rifle gives Almereyda a solid base to work from. He has the stately presence of a Shakespearean king, while calling back to his early roots in George Romero’s Knightriders. Believe it or not, Milla Jovovich pulls off the Queen’s Machiavellian iciness quite well. Bill Pullman has limited screen time, but he makes a great entrance as the ghost of Leonatus’s father, while John Leguizamo is well cast as Pisanio, the wily servant. Nevertheless, it is Delroy Lindo who steals scene after scene as Cymbeline’s banished former ally.

On the other hand, the younger romantic leads and rivals largely underwhelm. Dakota Johnson is just sort of eh as Imogen. Penn Bagley is a double-eh as Leonatus and Anton Yelchin is a triple-eh as Cloten. Generally speaking, the older and more seasoned the cast member, the better they come across in Almereyda’s Cymbeline.

Once known as Anarchy, the updated Cymbeline openly invites comparison to Sons of Anarchy. It is a strange choice for such a treatment (perhaps Julius Caesar, the grandpappy of all power struggles would have made a better fit), but the greasy roadside settings are considerably more effective than one might expect, giving it a distinctly austere but slightly unreal aesthetic. It is clear why Cymbeline is considered a minor work in the Shakespearean canon, but perhaps the best way to handle it is by thoroughly recontextualizing as Almereyda does. It is an odd little film with a big cast that is rather entertaining, in an idiosyncratic way, despite its ragged edges. Recommended for fans of non-traditional Shakespeare, Cymbeline opens tomorrow in New York at the Quad Cinema.