The Precision of Sound: How Ryan Coogler Uses Music in His Movies
No rule says movie music has to come from the Billboard charts. And yet, you’d never know it watching many big-budget films, where needle drops often feel like a Top…
No rule says movie music has to come from the Billboard charts. And yet, you’d never know it watching many big-budget films, where needle drops often feel like a Top 10 playlist shuffled onto the screen. There’s nothing wrong with popular music, but there’s something increasingly rare about filmmakers who dig deeper. Ryan Coogler is one of them.
The director behind Fruitvale Station, Creed, Black Panther, and now Sinners doesn’t use music as a shortcut to emotion. He uses it as storytelling. Not to chase relevance, but to shape meaning.
In an April 2025 interview about Sinners, Coogler told The Detroit News: “I wanted the movie to have the simplicity — and simultaneously the profound nature — of a Delta blues song… But I wanted it to have the contrast, variation, and the inevitability of a great Metallica song, like ‘One.’”
That blend of cultural roots and raw, unpredictable force is the perfect summary of how Coogler approaches music in all his films: not by algorithm, but by feeling.
He Starts With Place, Not Popularity
One of Coogler’s most memorable scenes comes early in his career, in Fruitvale Station (2013). The film tells the true story of Oscar Grant, a 22-year-old Black man killed by police in Oakland. In one of Oscar’s last moments of happiness, he’s on a New Year’s Eve BART train with his girlfriend and friends when someone plays “Feelin’ Myself” by Mac Dre on a phone. The entire train car lights up, dancing, laughing, living.
Coogler doesn’t grab music to make a scene louder. He uses it to make a moment true.
He Pairs Sound with Identity
In Creed (2015), Michael B. Jordan’s Adonis Creed trains to fight in the city of brotherly love. But instead of using a nostalgic callback to Rocky’s classic theme music, Coogler chooses “Lord Knows” by Meek Mill, a Philly artist.
As Adonis runs through the streets, followed by cheering kids on ATVs, Meek’s voice drives the rhythm. The moment isn't just about athletic training, it’s about being rooted. It connects Adonis not to the past, but to the present.
Meek Mill’s song wasn’t selected because it was the hottest track at the time—it was picked because it fit. Because it says something.
He Builds Soundtracks as Extensions of the Story
When Black Panther hit theaters in 2018, it came with one of the most intentional movie soundtracks ever released. Curated by Kendrick Lamar and filled with artists like SZA, Vince Staples, Jorja Smith, and Anderson .Paak, the soundtrack was as global, experimental, and deeply Black as the film itself.
The end-credits song, “All The Stars” by Kendrick and SZA, became the biggest hit from the album, but its placement isn’t just about leaving the audience with a catchy tune. It’s a sonic reflection of Wakanda: beautiful, cosmic, and powered by legacy.
Coogler doesn’t just drop a pop track and hope it lands. He curates. He collaborates. He and Kendrick built a full album because they wanted the whole sound of Wakanda, not just one radio single.
In Black Panther: Wakanda Forever (2022), Coogler faced the emotional weight of honoring Chadwick Boseman. His solution wasn’t grand or explosive; it was quiet, careful, and healing.
The final scene shows Shuri (Letitia Wright) sitting alone, finally mourning her brother. No words. Just wind, waves, and then “Lift Me Up” by Rihanna, written with Coogler, Tems, and Ludwig Göransson.
It’s not a typical blockbuster ballad.
Instead of leaning into spectacle, Coogler leans into vulnerability.
He Pushes the Limits of Musical Storytelling
In Sinners (2025), Coogler takes his deepest musical swing yet.
The film features a scene where blues singer Sammie (Miles Caton) performs “I Lied To You” in a juke joint. As the music builds, the space becomes more than physical, a “surreal montage” of dancers, DJs, and a Hendrix-like guitarist emerges. The performance becomes spiritual, visual, and generational.
“I’ve had a few of those moments [in my life],” Coogler told The Detroit News, “and you feel immortal, like you are outside of space and time… like there’s another presence there with you.”
Most directors might choose a recognizable hit for a moment like this. But Coogler leans into discovery.
And that’s his gift—he doesn’t just know how to pick music. He knows how to pick moments.
A Director Who Listens
What makes Coogler stand out isn’t that he ignores popular music, but that he doesn’t rely on it to do the heavy lifting. His musical choices are rooted in identity, emotion, geography, and memory. His taste is specific. And that specificity creates intimacy—whether it's a Mac Dre track in Oakland or a Rihanna ballad for global grief.
