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Sinners, 2025 Directed by Ryan Coogler

I absolutely adored this film. Sinners is absolutely excellent. You should go see it, and you should avoid as many spoilers as possible before you go see it. This is a spoiler-free review.

Is it perfect? No, it is not. At one point, Smoke, one of two characters played by Michael B. Jordan, pulls the pin of a grenade with his teeth. That sort of small error, questionable directorial choice, or distracting issue happened quite a few times: this is the third quibble I've written, trying to find one that I know is wrong, not just wrong for me, and isn't too spoilery.

But I want to talk not about my quibbles, but about what I loved about this film, which was a lot of things. It is a stuffed, maybe even overstuffed, film, but in a rich, sumptuous, beautiful way.

After a voiceover introduction with beautiful textile illustrations, in the opening scene Sammie, aka Preacher Boy, staggers into his father's church on Sunday morning, the absolute picture of deeply traumatized horror film survivor. And that church! It is a small white painted wooden building with a large door as the main entrance, and a small door on the opposite side open to perfectly frame the preacher against the beautiful day. The choir of children up front and the worshipers are wearing white, in striking contrast with their deep black skin. There are black crosses hanging up on the white walls of the church. Only the preacher wears black, silhouetted against the bright sky behind him. Think stereotypical black sharecopper church. This film is not subtle. It starts with the most stereotypical, symbolic, emblematic, iconic images and ideas, and works from there.

Then the we go back one day in time. Sammie is picking cotton with other sharecroppers, early in the morning, but he skips out quickly, because he's finished his quota and he's got things to do. He greets his mama, gets lectured by his father in the church, and then gets picked up, in a car, by the Smoke Stack twins, both played by Michael B. Jordon.

There are probably 20 minutes of shots of cotton fields in this film. There are dirt roads, a chain gang, a segregated Main Street in town, extreme poverty among sharecroppers, beautiful live oaks, a train station, every icon of the Delta.

Personally, I adore beautiful films, and this is a beautiful film. Go see it on the best screen you can. I regret not having chosen the IMAX option, and I'm seriously considering going to see it again, this time in IMAX. I am a new fan girl of the cinematographer, Autumn Durald Arkapaw. But, essentially, this is a film about music. It's a film about everything, but especially about Delta blues music. So the sound matters. The score, by Ludwig Göransson, is breathtaking, and this movie may made me want to listen to a lot of blues.

Generally speaking, I am neither a huge music fan, nor a huge horror film fan. But I am into music: it's just that I'm not as much into music as my late ex-spouse was, nor many other people around me. I do like listening to the same albums and songs over and over again, and this movie is obsessed with music. So it felt strange to be taking a group of four people to see horror film about music, but it felt very good .

As I wrote in my last post, Wobbegong was the one who told me to see films for most of my adult life, including films that I saw with other people. I've been the one dragging people to see films, because Woobegong told me to. I don't have Wobbegong to tell me to see films anymore. But I do still have the Pop Culture Happy Hour podcast, and my other friends, and I am so glad I dragged three other people to a theater last night.

I also don't think of myself as a fan of horror, but I realized last night that three of my favorite films (not my three very favorite films, but definitely three of my top 15 films of all time) are The Babadook, A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night, and now, Sinners. All horror films. I was somewhat distressed by the abundance of horror film trailers at the beginning of Sinners: they were trailers showing too much, both too much of the plots of the movies they were advertising, and too much gore for me. I can handle quite a lot of gore, but it is not my favorite thing in films. Horror can be a fantastic way of saying important and interesting things, and Sinners uses horror to say important and interesting things.

So go see it, friends, and let's talk about it afterwards!
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Everything Is Tuberculosis: The History and Persistence of our Deadliest Infection, by John Green, 2025

I first heard about this book before it was finished, because I follow dress historian Nicole Rudolph on YouTube, and Nicole did a react video to a video by John Green about consumption (tuberculosis) fashion in the 1800s. And John Green watched Nicole (and Abby Cox’s) videos about this, and talked to them, and even visited Nicole, and edited this section of his book, and mentioned both of them in his book. I think because it was a late edit, this section of the book is actually the least well written. But it’s a short section, I strongly suspect that it is more accurate due to the edit, and it’s not terribly written: just not as sparkling and coherent as the rest of the book.

Which is, to be clear, overall very sparkling and coherent. It’s also quite short, and easy to read. Reading it now, in March of 2025, after the Trump administration has cut (without input from the Congress, which designated money for it, and has the constitutional authority over the budget) a lot of foreign aid, including a lot of foreign aid to fight tuberculosis (and AIDs), is fairly difficult. But, of course, the Trump administration makes everything difficult, so that’s not really about this book. As I was reading it the first time, I was hoping that this short, clear, sensible book could be a good way to convince the convincible Trump voters. But, as I started reading it for a second time, I noticed that the very first page mentions, as a casual aside, climate change due to the burning of fossil fuels. To me, John Green feels like a centrist, because he is a Christian (and I know leftist Christians exist, but I don’t know many of them), but, upon further reflection, this is a book for liberals and leftists, not a book to convince the right wing. The right wing Christians who are, for example, dismissing empathy as evil or immoral, will not be convinced by this book, which is all about empathy.

It’s also a book written by a person who was originally a fiction author, and it does embrace a kind of suspense, which surprised me somewhat. In Chapter 1 (which is the second chapter, because the book starts with an introduction), Greene mentions Henry, a tuberculosis patient John met in Sierra Leone. John includes a picture of Henry, talks quite a lot about him, and does not disclose his prognosis. It’s a choice I don’t know if I agree with: for example, I don’t feel it’s ethical to tell people to watch the documentary The Aplinist without telling people that the main character, Marc-André Leclerc, dies. But, with Everything is Tuberculosis, if you’d like to know the fate of Henry, you can simply flip to the end of the book and find out. Since this is non-fiction, many people do die of tuberculosis in this narrative, including Eleanor Roosevelt, the assassins of Archduke Franz Ferdinand, John Green’s own great uncle, and two of James Watt’s children, among many others. Because, as the subtitle says, tuberculosis is the infection that has probably killed more humans than any other disease, over the course of deep human history.

Unlike the movie The Aplinist, I want to share this book with as many people as possible. I don’t think I really know anyone far enough right to dismiss a book that mentions climate change on the first page, just because of political reasons, and I really do think that this book can (help to) change the world. This book aims to convince people that we really can make the world a better place. Green talks about vicious cycles, which definitely occur in the progression of active tuberculosis. But Green also talks about virtuous cycles, which do occur in the successful treatment of TB; people get stronger, and get their appetite back, which means they can get even stronger, which helps their body fight TB. Green argues that we must be optimistic enough to reach for the virtuous cycles in society. Right now, of course, is a very dark moment for virtuous cycles in worldwide health. But the future can be different than the present, and the cruel and essentially inefficient, insufficient Trump administration’s policies could lead to a broad backlash that makes the whole world better for a long time. This isn’t, of course, inevitable; this really could be the beginning of much increased worldwide suffering and death.

Green’s book provides optimism and a path forward, though. So while it’s hard to read in this dark time, it’s also very hopeful to read. And, unlike Princen’s The Logic of Sufficiency, it’s an easy read that just about anyone can easily finish. Which is why I’m so widely recommending it.

I realized while reading this that it is in one my favorite genres: non-fiction with footnotes. Of course, I do enjoy other genres, and I personally prefer books with both asides in footnotes and sources in foot or end notes to books, like this one, with just asides in footnotes, and no page by page reference or sources resource. Green does mention many of his sources, in the “Further Reading” chapter at the end of the book. And I accept that Green is probably making the correct choice to make this book more readable by not having any non-readable sections, like dense lists of sources.

Another surprise of this book is that it has quite a bit of disability activism in it. It is written by a privileged author whose mental health diagnoses are well controlled by drugs, but he has clearly read, and taken on board, a lot of disability activism by TB survivors.

So, yes, I think you, yes you, should read this book. And if you live in Chicago, I’m happy to lend you my copy!

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