In “Sinners,” his bloody new historical blockbuster, writer/director Ryan Coogler feels unleashed in a way he hasn’t been before — and that’s a good thing. Free from the shackles of proving himself, respectability politics and four-quadrant appeal, the “Black Panther,” “Creed” and “Fruitvale Station” filmmaker delightedly revels in what he’s allowed to do within this hyper-sexy, hyper-violent, R-rated vampire movie.

The characters in “Sinners” are as advertised: flawed in a deeply human kind of way. They’ve made mistakes, hurt others, defied social norms, and are grieving, traumatized, horny, driven by money. And that’s just the twin brothers, Smoke and Stack, played in a dual performance by star Michael B. Jordan. It’s 1932, and after seven years learning the gangland trade from Irish and Italian mobsters in Chicago, these World War I vets have rolled back into their Mississippi hometown ready to raise hell with their latest venture, a juke joint stocked with stolen booze.

Under an enormous sky filled with fluffy white clouds stretching over fields of fluffy white cotton, Smoke and Stack run their errands, reconnecting with friends, family and former flames, before everyone convenes at the old sawmill they’ve secured for their party. As the sun slips below a low horizon, strange dangers emerge in the dusk, heralded by flocking vultures and warnings from Choctaw trackers, though the group of revelers can’t hear anything above the sound of blues music and stomping feet.

“Sinners” is a period piece about the Jim Crow South, and it’s also a damn good vampire movie, because Coogler understands that the best vampire movies embrace their metaphorical nature, whether it’s using the monster to manifest fears of addiction, illness, invasion or otherwise. But Coogler’s vampire metaphor is entirely original and deeply cutting, using the monster myth to address the foundation of systemic racism and exploitation upon which this country was built, a system that drains the life and labor (and culture and music) from the enslaved Africans who became Black Americans.

Music provides the connecting thread for Coogler’s argument about the sprawling web of oppressive colonization, in which indigenous cultures are ransacked, pillaged and repurposed. Beautiful music might emerge from this vampiric relationship, a song or tune shared, but that doesn’t erase the violence behind it. “Sinners” is a rich text to unpack, stuffed with surprising and unexpected cultural histories.

With regard to the music of the film itself, the collaboration with longtime creative partner, composer Ludwig Goransson, soars in “Sinners.” Coogler’s filmmaking thrums with energy, keeping time with Goransson’s blues-based score, which references everything from African percussion to Irish hymns. As Sammie, aka Preacher Boy (singer and first-time actor Miles Caton), takes the stage at Club Juke, channeling spirits from the past and future, Coogler dabbles in magical realism, visualizing the lineage of the blues in a long, sweeping shot that roams around the space with a spectral grace. His work with cinematographer Autumn Durald Arkapaw and editor Michael P. Shawver creates an intoxicating tempo, pairing long takes with sharp cuts.

If there’s any criticism that can be levied, it’s that Coogler doesn’t bother with subtlety, and there are moments that feel a bit indulgent or overwrought. Still, this is a horror movie, why would you want it to be subtle anyway? Coogler often gets weird with it, and the moments of surrealism and camp in “Sinners” are what mark the film as a project from a filmmaker with a singular point of view, one that hasn’t been neutered or sanded down.

Truthfully, Jordan is not the star of “Sinners,” Coogler is. Jordan — part of a large, appealing ensemble cast that includes Delroy Lindo, Hailee Steinfeld, Jack O’Connell, Lola Kirke, Jayme Lawson and a stunning Wunmi Mosaku — is merely the vessel for Coogler’s ideas and experimentation. Another longstanding creative partner of the filmmaker, it’s a treat to watch the duo tear into something like this with gusto.

“Sinners” grapples with ideas of cultural vampirism, and poses questions about money, power and the salvation of spiritualism. These complex concepts are layered into a rip-roaring, sexy, violent, profane and wholly entertaining vampire movie. Coogler knows that as much as a horror movie like this needs a meaty metaphor, it also needs pops of humor and surprise; he isn’t afraid of campy, operatic flourishes — a huge full moon and a big bloody grin? That’s the stuff.

Moments like this make moviegoing in the theater, with a crowd, worth the price of admission (there’s one jaw-dropping moment that requires that this film be seen on the biggest screen possible). Coogler has delivered one of the best blockbusters of the year, and that it has a heart and brain behind all the blood-drenched thrills just makes it that much more satisfying. Open wide, and get ready to take a big old bite out of “Sinners.”

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'SINNERS'

3.5 stars (out of 4)

MPA rating: R (for strong bloody violence, sexual content and language)

Running time: 2:17

How to watch: In theaters April 18

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