a pure Blues movie, if not a great one, with Jackson in one of his coolest performances

Rating: 8/10 (4 March 2007)

I didn't quite get what I expected from Black Snake Moan, but by the end I didn't mind too much either. I went into it thinking I was going to get a real low-down, Southern-Fried exploitation flick where race relations get turned around in a small town and the "wickedness" that Sam Jackson's blues-man character is trying to rid of Christina Ricci's wily nymph would sort of parallel that. In short, pure, unadulterated outrageousness of the Sam Fuller White Dog variety. It goes without saying that the central 'gimmick' (and it is nearing a gimmick I think) of the chain around Ricci- and particularly one moment where Lazarus (Jackson) is letting out Rae (Ricci) for a walk like a dog around the his field he farms- is meant to be outrageous, as are the moments when Lazarus's young assistant farmer-boy walks in on the itching-for-sex Rae and gets jumped by him for 'it'. But really, the intelligence of Brewer's script and how he handles the characters is that we get to see these people not just as simple caricatures but as real people, with histories, and it actually becomes a story of redemption, for both Lazarus and Rae as well as Rae's anxiety driven dishonorably discharged army man Ronnie played by Justin Timberlake. These characters do have the blues, and their own personal discoveries are put against this gritty, small-town Southern setting.
But there are two very important factors that Brewer has going for him not just in the dramatically sound and fairly original script: the music, which strikes up some of the best blues music I've heard in a long time (including the great usage of songs by the late R.L. Burnside, an epitome of true blues), and the performances from Jackson and Ricci (more so the former). Ricci goes on a brave route playing Rae, who has some skeletons in her closet (which provides the bare-bones of why she is 'this' way, even if it seems a little lacking for full psychological depth), and who is completely without inhibitions. That she is in panties and a small shirt for most of the movie is only scratching the surface, but it's definitely a high point in his career. But even more so this goes for Jackson, who taps into what makes him such a magnetic talent in American movies- he's super-cool, to be sure, especially when he's playing the blues songs (one he plays on stage at a blues night at a club brings out even funnier 'mother-f-ers' than one heard in Snakes on a Plane). Yet the range of emotions are on display just as well, with the hurt and wisdom, and the craziness that is sort of underlying Lazarus as well as a sinner-cum-bible thumper. It's certainly the best I've seen from him in years, possibly since he last teamed up in Tarantino's Jackie Brown.
Not to say that Brewer doesn't come close to confusing what kind of movie he's making. One might wish he had made just a straight on exploitation film out of the 70s, where the roles get reversed from one of those 'Pam Grier in prison' flicks. And there are moments of that, and the more trashy side of my taste in movies almost wanted more of that. But I was also very pleased to see Brewer's maturity with the material as well, and in not going for the very big statements like a Paul Haggis or something. It's not even about it being a white woman and a black man- not that there isn't a moment or two that's obviously called into question by supporting characters- but about two lonely, psychologically screwed up folk who, if only by scratching the surface, un-earth things that have been going wrong for them: for Rae, her unwillingness to deal with commitment and her sexuality, for Lazarus his peace of mind and relationships with women and the Lord, and for Ronnie about what it means to be with someone like Rae. It's highly charged, darkly funny, and touching, and it's likely to be under the radar, albeit not without its cult audience.