The Complex and Authentic Women in Ryan Coogler’s ‘Sinners’

Warner Bros. released Sinners last month to widespread acclaim and a historic theatrical run, including a record-breaking second week of sustained sales. Ryan Coogler’s period supernatural thriller follows twins Smoke and Stack (Michael B. Jordan) as they return to their Louisiana hometown in 1932 after spending a few years living in Chicago. They buy an abandoned sawmill with money they stole from gangsters in Illinois, intending to open a juke joint for the local Black community. But a new evil in town, brought by Irish immigrant vampire Remmick, derails their opening night.

In a moment when diversity, representation, and stories centered on marginalized communities are under attack — in entertainment media and elsewhere — Sinners has overwhelmingly resonated with audiences. People see themselves in these complex and authentic characters. In particular, an array of complex and authentic women play key roles in both plot development and emotional grounding, including Smoke’s estranged wife Annie (Wunmi Mosaku), Stack’s ex-girlfriend Mary (Hailee Steinfeld), their cousin Sammie’s love interest Pearline (Jayme Lawson), and Chinese American shop owner Grace (Li Jun Li). They’re “strong female characters,” which is nice to see, but perhaps more importantly, Coogler avoids the oversimplified tropes that tend to define strong women in action or thriller films.

While the existence of strong women in film is increasingly expected, strength can be defined in a variety of ways. Often, these are characters whose resilience is impressive, but their competence in extreme environments becomes their defining characteristic, rather than something these women have chosen for themselves. Sometimes, it’s the badass but shallow “action girl” who is just as good at killing people as the men. Or we see women who constantly sacrifice themselves for everyone around them without ever getting a second of joy or peace, leading them to be defined entirely by their trauma and caregiver burnout. A third trope is women who embrace femininity and sex appeal but reject relationships altogether. The women in this film are strong without falling into any of these common archetypes.

Well-trained women who can take care of themselves are visible in many of the action films in theaters now. For example, Marvel Studios’ Thunderbolts* is led by Florence Pugh as Yelena Belova, the new Black Widow, and features Ghost, another woman raised from a young age to be a fearless assassin. Lionsgate’s Shadow Force features Kerry Washington as a standout intelligence operative who has defected from one of the CIA’s most elite undercover units. It’s great to see cool and capable women on screen, but these characters are often depicted as hyper-competent at the expense of having rich personal lives or strong relationships. This follows general trends in entertainment media in which women are depicted as being either great mothers and present partners or high-performing professionals, while the two rarely co-exist.

Films are beginning to address this — it’s a large component of Belova’s character arc in Thunderbolts* — but Coogler shows us something even more compelling with his women characters who hold their own in the fight against the vampires in a way that seems realistic considering their presumed lack of formal combat training. Grace and Annie, the two mothers in the group, are depicted as effective fighters after Grace responds to a threat against her daughter, but this strength isn’t tied to years of formal training that stripped them of the opportunity to be full people. Sinners provides an authentic-feeling fight featuring normal women who manage to step up when the situation demands it, a reality that many viewers can relate to in a world that demands increasing levels of everyday heroism from women attempting to balance work, family, and personal needs while existing under unfair systems.

Simultaneously, none of these women is defined by their burnout, self-denial, or lack of support.

On opening night, Grace and her husband, Bo, share real moments of levity that contextualize their relationship. Meanwhile, Annie and Mary seek reconnection with Smoke and Stack, respectively, maintaining their agency and independence, while also looking for healing and connection. The film doesn’t present them as desperate or forlorn, nor are they aloof or angry. Their complexity makes them feel real, and when these relationships are successfully rekindled, the development feels earned.

The expectation that women “manage it all” without seeking anything for themselves is a harmful one that can lead to mental health problems. Especially in the case of women of color during this period, simply seeking out joy and leisure is radical and beautiful, and it makes these characters more authentic.

Finally, Sinners presents women with sexual agency, without this becoming their defining trait. Often, women who are comfortable seeking out sex and operating in less submissive sexual roles are presented as women whose prowess comes at the expense of authentic relationships and person-to-person connection. Think of the iconic Gone Girl dynamic, or the archetype satirized in 2024’s Argylle. These women’s strength is defined by their ability to engage with men while rejecting intimacy or “entanglements,” which could lead them to sacrifice choice.

Mary and Pearline are both married to men who aren't a good match for them, but their pursuit of Stack and Sammie, respectively, isn’t portrayed as deviant or driven purely by self-gratification. Instead, they are complicated women with agency, desire, and an understanding of what they're looking for. Their sexual encounters are full of emotion, context, and intentionality. This portrayal emphasizes how there's strength in vulnerability and the willingness to be honest about one's desires.

Sinners doesn’t reinvent the idea of what it means to be a “strong female character” so much as it reminds us what strength actually looks like when it’s grounded in real human need. These women fight and sacrifice, yes — but they also grieve, laugh, desire, compromise, and change. Their strength isn’t conditional on perfection or isolation; it’s shaped by community, love, and choice. In a media landscape where representation is often flattened or politicized, Sinners offers something rare: textured, emotionally resonant portrayals that feel both exciting and deeply familiar.

Research from UCLA’s Center for Scholars and Storytellers has found that audiences consistently show up for films that include authentic representation. By writing women who are highly competent and decisive, but also have vulnerable moments, Coogler gives us women who resemble the people we know in real life. By balancing their rational clarity and more emotionally driven desire to connect and protect the people they care about, he creates narrative moments that feel true to life. In this way, Sinners provides a blueprint for writing complex women who highlight diverse perspectives and lived experiences without alienating audiences.