Sinners: A Musical

 

"Sinners" is, as one critic put it, chaotic, in a good way. I understood why after reading a Ryan Coogler interview, in which he said he was frantically trying to stuff everything he wanted into this movie, because (he believes) that this is the last chance he will ever have to make an expensive movie that is entirely original --- not a part of an IP, not a sequel, prequel, or spin-off. It's a sad state of affairs, a symptom of our time, but I digress. "Sinners" is many things: a southern Gothic, a period movie, a Black movie, a horror/vampire movie, a noir, and in the end it couldn't even let go of the dream of an action movie with machine guns. It has many interesting little touches, from a lynching scene conveyed through only sound design to seamless but understated special effects of twins, played both by Michael B. Jordan, physically interacting again and again. It's a lot. 

For me, however, this movie is first and foremost a musical. In the winter of 1998, my classmates and I went to a pharmacy conference in New Orleans, where I followed a few friends to a bar with live music, and it was the first time in my life that I came into contact with blues music. As a person who grew up on cantopop and a tiny bit of rock, I never thought blues would touch me so deep on first sight (sound). Later I came to learn a bit about Jazz. I especially like ragtime and early jazz. I don't often listen to blues, but it always has a special place in my heart. 

When Miles Caton, who plays Sammie, opened his mouth the first time on the car ride with Stack, the hair on my arms stood on ends in an instant, and tears came to my eyes. I felt chills all over. This is authentic classic southern blues without the modern frills or flourish (not that there is anything wrong with those). It fills me with delight that Coogler is dead serious about the authenticity of the music, in collaboration with Ludwig Goransson.  

Then the soundtrack expanded beyond blues and into Irish folk music that reminds me of bluegrass (named later than the movie's period). To me it is clear that Coogler is explaining, via blood-sucking fantasies, how Irish folk music and blues/jazz came together in rural America. Yes, it's nerdy ... and fun. 

Given the massive amount of content and themes crammed into the 2+-hour movie, it is satisfying that music takes up a large portion of the screen time. Hence, it is not an exaggeration to call it a musical. Perhaps one day it would even be adapted into a Broadway musical. There is certainly enough material to get started. 

Beyond the soundtrack itself, "Sinners" also puts a music-related question at its center. While the twins, Smoke and Stack, are the lead characters, the heart of the story is no doubt Sammie. He is the ring in Lord of the Rings and the McGuffin in any action movie. Unlike the conventional vampire movies, the vampire Remmick is coming not only after the fresh blood but also, and perhaps first and foremost, for the mystical musical gift in this ordinary-looking teenager. Hence, the symbolism is both unlike anything else and eerily resonant. 

On a smaller scale, it is the irresistible power of Black music that attracts complex relationships and reactions, ranging from genuine love, learning, and sharing to envy and appropriation, to exploitation and demonization. On a larger scale, it investigates the meaning of art in society and its position above morality and order, and its effect on people's emotions and animal instincts. Coogler might not have formulated a clear system of philosophy on this matter, but what he has thrown out there is extremely fascinating and original. An original idea, in our day and age, is damned rare and precious. 

The Valley of Fear

 

"The Valley of Fear" is perhaps the least liked and least adapted Sherlock Holmes story ever. Upon a re-reading, I nevertheless discovered a few interesting elements. 

Indeed, there is not much observation and deduction in the case, as later Holmes stories tend to be (this was written in 1914). Holmes' entire theory was built on one missing dumbbell. What is the most memorable in this case is the decoding of a cipher in the beginning of the story. 

Of all 4 Sherlock Holmes novellas Arthur Conan Doyle wrote, 3 are stretched in length with a story in story containing only adventure but no detection or mystery, with the exception of "The Hound of the Baskervilles." This may be a sign that either it is super difficult to sustain a long(ish) story with repeated application of Holmes' methods, or ACD truly did not have the patience or interest in doing so. Doyle was indeed interested in adventurous stories in faraway lands, as evidenced by his other more fantastic stories. It is interesting that he considered the United States such a land of dangerous and unfathomable adventures, which serves as the source of violence and revenge in both "A Study in Scarlet" and "The Valley of Fear."

Perhaps we should not be surprised by the view of a 19th century English gentleman on America. The English must have read a lot about the westward expansion in the post-Civil War era in the newspapers. The period of Holmes stories coincided with the early stage of the western genre of pulp fiction, and I am convinced that Doyle had read and been inspired by their depiction of a land of lawless killings.

"The Valley of Fear" was inspired by stories Doyle heard from William Pinkerton, the son of Allan Pinkerton, the founder of the Pinkerton Detective Agency. Thus, it is hardly surprising that the American backstory in this story reads like a product placement for the Agency itself. Without other sources at the time, Doyle's portrayal of the American mine country strays pretty far from the reality. Pinkerton was essentially a mercenary army in the class warfare between company owners and unions, doing the majority of the killing and terrorizing (see Homestead Strike and Haymarket Affair). 

Nevertheless, if we put aside the history of Pinkerton, the story's depiction of organized crime is quite reasonable (by the way, the organization in the fictional Vermissa Valley is described as a brotherhood instead of labor union). It has all the characteristics of, say, the mafia, down to the ethnic element, ie, the brotherhood is held together by the members' identity as Irish immigrants.  

Also interesting is the intentional structure, which parallels the Irish mafia in the US with a vast web of criminals in London, at the center of which is our beloved </g> Professor Moriarty (an Irish family name, curiously). Other than "The Final Problem," this is the story in which Moriarty figures the most and Doyle gives us the most information on his organization. It seems to me that Doyle had always planned to create a series about this underground criminal organization and even worked up some basic infrastructure for it. Why it did not come to fruition, I have no idea. 

It is a shame that various fanfics of Sherlock Holmes, some more respectable than others, have failed to tap into this hidden trove of inspiration. Professor Moriarty is imagined as either a buffoon (eg, Steven Moffat's Sherlock TV series) or Holmes' alter ego (Laura Miller's novel) or delusion (Seven Percent Solution). Apparently, most Holmesian fans fall into the "cozy" genre type and have little interest in the gritty and vicious side of Doyle's imagination. They are not interested in grimy mafia stories set in the dirty back alleys of London among sailors, laborers, and prostitutes. 

The violence described in "The Valley of Fear" is perhaps the darkest and most shocking among all the deaths and crimes in the entire Holmes series. Even today, the scenes of Vermissa Valley assassinations can fit right in with a Martin Scorsese or Park Chan-wook movie. The sense of oppressive terror over the entire town is palpable, better written than that under the Mormon Church in "A Study in Scarlet." It's too bad the overall structure and historical inaccuracy deters people from adapting it to the screen, but there are elements in this novella that can work very well as a genre piece about organized crime or undercover agent (a la "Infernal Affairs").