No asterisks. No questions about profitability. No hedging about whether a $70 million A24 film (their most expensive ever) would break even—just a celebration.
Sinners made $368 million. Variety questioned whether it would be profitable.
Marty Supreme has made $45 million so far. Variety crowned Chalamet a king.
These framings don't just shape public perception; they determine which directors get final cut, which films get greenlit, and which stories Hollywood decides are worth telling.
I’m not saying Marty Supreme is a failure. It’s not. Chalamet is a movie star. I love his work in Dune, Bones and All, and Call Me By Your Name; he is one of the greats, arguably one of the only movie stars of this era. Josh Safdie made a film people want to see. The marketing was clever. All of that is true.
But all of it had little to do with the movie's foundation, which followed what I like to call “The Safdie Formula.”
The Safdie Formula
The Safdie Formula is simple: a morally gray New York hustler sprints through nonstop crises while electronic music blares and the camera refuses to calm down. Good Time, Uncut Gems, and Marty Supreme swap actors and hustles but keep the same scaffolding. Written with the same co-writer (Ronald Bronstein), scored by the same sound designer (Daniel Lopatin), shot in the same anxious, handheld style, and paced as if the film itself is late to the box office.
At some point, Safdie's movies feel less like films and more like blood pressure tests with nice music. How many times have both you and the character risked a heart attack?
Each film follows the same template: take a real-life hustler, loosen the facts, and film their downfall in the same anxious style.
I’m not saying a formula is bad. Martin Scorsese has explored variations on the same themes for fifty years and is a master at it, with his films winning 20 Oscars on 101 nominations. Safdie found something that works, and he is good at the archetype. Good for him.
But here’s what I’m pointing out: critics notice when Josh Safdie repeats himself. They call it a formula. They write about how his “shoe prints are everywhere.”
When Ryan Coogler makes something new, he gets questioned about profitability before his film has finished its opening weekend.
Coogler made Fruitvale Station. A biographical drama about Oscar Grant. Then Creed. A boxing movie that reinvented Rocky for a new generation. Then Black Panther. A superhero film that became a cultural phenomenon, earning over $1.3 billion globally. Then Black Panther: Wakanda Forever. A sequel that dealt with grief and loss. Then Sinners. An original horror film about vampires, blues music, and the forces that have drained Black communities for generations.
Five films. Five different genres. Five distinct visions.
Safdie made three films about charismatic New York hustlers who talk fast, make bad decisions, and run from the consequences.
Which filmmaker is taking more risks? And how that worked out for Coogler.
The American Prospect ran a piece in December called “The Hit Hollywood Didn’t Want.”
The argument: Sinners threatened too many industry narratives at once. It proved that original films can still succeed. It proved R-rated horror can be prestige. It proved that a Black filmmaker can negotiate ownership of his own work. It proved that audiences will show up for something that isn’t a sequel, a remake, or a video game adaptation,
All of those things are inconvenient for studios that have spent a decade telling us audiences only want already established IP, only to face a year of groundbreaking original movies. “One Battle After Another”, “Weapons”, “Sorry, Baby”, and yes, “Sinners”, all of which are in Oscar Conversation.
So the coverage hedged. The asterisks appeared. The questions about profitability started before the film had finished its first weekend.
Meanwhile, Marty Supreme gets coverage about Chalamet’s marketing genius. Standing ontop of a blimp gets articles about his stardom and “reign” over Christmas.
Both framings shape how audiences perceive these films. When you tell people a movie is struggling, they believe it. When you tell people a star is ascending, they think that too, and that informs decisions on whether to see a bad movie if you can only afford one.
What Sinners Actually Did
Let me tell you what Ryan Coogler accomplished with Sinners because the trade coverage doesn’t.
He made an original film that was not adapted from a book or play and was not a sequel or remake. A period horror film set in 1933 Mississippi, about twin brothers who open a juke joint and, because of the power of music, are plagued by vampires.
That premise should not work. A $90 million R-rated horror movie set during Jim Crow with no pre-existing audience? Studio executives at WB should have laughed Coogler out of the room.
Michael B. Jordan played twin brothers. Both of them. He acts against himself throughout the film, delivering two distinct performances and consulting real-life twins before delivering two of his best.
Ludwig Göransson, a longtime friend and collaborator of Coogler and a two-time Oscar-winning composer, produced a score that David Ehrlich at IndieWire called “inextricable from the texture of the film.” He was right from the moment Miles Canton’s Sammy steps on screen with a broken guitar to the ending score. The last time I saw the sun is the film’s heartbeat. Blues, gospel, and Delta South sounds that were made to feel both modern and fitting in their time. Göransson has worked with Coogler since they were in USC film school together, and their connection shines in this work.
Coogler shot the film on 70mm IMAX, being the first film to combine 70mm IMAX and Ultra Panavision 70. That format choice was a statement: Black life in Jim Crow Mississippi deserved the same cinematic grandeur Nolan gives to space travel, and Tarantino gives to revenge fantasies.
He hired everyone from Hoodoo Consultants, to Railroad, to Gambling consultants to make sure this film was as accurate a period piece as possible.
Warner Bros. offered Coogler a deal under which the rights would revert to him after 25 years. Anonymous studio executives told Vulture this was “dangerous” and could “topple the studio system.”
A Black filmmaker securing ownership of his own work is described as dangerous. Think about that.
Coogler told IndieWire that his ownership deal mattered because of the film’s subject matter—a story of Black sharecroppers developing Black art and culture. The irony of making that film and not owning it would have been obscene.
Same 25-year reversion deal. Same studio (different era).
The coverage was celebratory. No asterisks. No concerns about profitability after three days. No anonymous executives calling Tarantino’s deal “dangerous,” and earned about the same amount as sinners at $377 million worldwide.
The message is clear: stay in your lane, or expect scrutiny.
What Sinners Is Actually About
Sinners is a vampire movie where the vampires are white. That’s not subtext. That’s the text. Coogler uses horror to talk about extraction, subjection, and forced assimilation— a question about who takes from Black communities, how they do it, and how long they’ve been doing it.
These vampires don’t just want blood. They want culture. Music. Bodies. History. A connection with the ancestors. When the Irish vampire dances or praises the blues, it’s clear he wants to own, not share, the gift of the connection.
That’s what great horror does. It puts history in your body instead of explaining it to your head.
Michael B. Jordan plays brothers, the “Smoke Stack Twins,” representing balance and chaos respectively, who left Mississippi and came back changed, one haunted by loss, the other by love.
The cast is flawless. The music feels excavated from 1933 and somehow futuristic at the same time. Coogler balances horror, history, music, and character for over two hours without losing momentum, creating a never-before-seen format.
That's filmmaking at the highest level. That's the film Variety questioned
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The Oscar Question
As I write this, Sinners is expected to lead Oscar nominations. It could get 14 nods across categories. Best Picture, Director, Actor, Supporting Actress, Original Screenplay, Cinematography, Score, Song, Costume, Production Design, Editing, Sound, Casting.
Ryan Coogler has never won a competitive Oscar despite a Best Picture nomination for Judas and the Black Messiah. Neither has Michael B. Jordan.
Coogler could be the one to break that streak. Sinners is the film that deserves it. And the Oscar story for Sinners is the same as the box office story: an achievement that keeps getting asterisked.
But if history is any guide, the Academy will find a way to give him everything except the win, amounting to nominations without the crown as they did with Spike Lee.
Meanwhile, Chalamet is the frontrunner for Best Actor for playing another Safdie hustler—the role Adam Sandler wasn't nominated for in Uncut Gems.
I keep coming back to the Variety coverage because it crystallizes something.
When Sinners opened, Variety’s headline emphasized the obstacles, and it wasn't the only one. When Marty Supreme opened, Variety’s headline emphasized the triumph with the marketing team.
One film has made eight times as much as the other has so far. The coverage inverts that reality.
This article isn’t about Variety specifically. The New York Times did the same thing. So did Business Insider. The pattern is industry-wide.
See Sinners if you haven’t. It’s one of the best films of 2025 and in my opinion the best film. It’s available to stream now on Hulu, Amazon, and HBO Max, but if it’s still playing near you, see it on the biggest screen possible. Coogler shot it in IMAX to showcase the movie's beauty and the beauty of the black experience. The experience matters.
Pay attention to how films are covered. When you see a box office piece that hedges on success, ask yourself: Would they write this about Tarantino? Would they write this about Nolan?
Support Black filmmakers who take risks. Coogler made something nobody else could have made. Jordan gave a performance nobody else could have given. That's what deserves celebration.
And next time someone tells you an original film can’t succeed, remember: Sinners made $368 million. The problem was never the audience.
The problem was who was counting.
If this or any of my other work landed for you, please consider going paid. Real talk, a lot of research, writing, and thinking go into these, even if they seem to be put out quickly. Your support means I can keep doing this work seriously. And if you’re already paying, thank you so so much, it means a lot.
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I also think it’s important to single out jay penske and the penske media corporation, seeing as he has major ownership over the golden globes AND variety.
‘The problem was never the audience, the problem was who was counting.’
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One of my favorite writings to date.
I also think it’s important to single out jay penske and the penske media corporation, seeing as he has major ownership over the golden globes AND variety.
‘The problem was never the audience, the problem was who was counting.’