'Black Snake Moan' review

Rating: ***1/2 out of ****

Two distinct sounds define ‘Black Snake Moan’. One is the wail of a guitar. The other is the rattle of a chain. Both objects play indispensable roles in what is a weird, dark, and strangely sexy film. I didn’t know exactly how to feel during much of ‘Black Snake Moan’ and I think many audience members won’t either. That is where the films’ magic lies. It is a twisted character study, not manipulative drivel.

Samuel L. Jackson stars as the aptly named Lazarus, an aged blues musician and vegetable farmer whose wife has recently left him for his brother. One day he finds a young white girl lying on the side of the road in nothing but a torn t-shirt and panties. She has been beaten and abandoned. A god-fearing man with a past of sin, Lazarus does the right thing and takes her into his home to care for her. Her name is Rae (Christina Ricci) and she is a nymphomaniac who goes through sexual cravings as bad as a drug addict going through withdrawal. Lazarus aims to cure her of her wicked ways and so he chains her to the radiator, keeping her there until it is out of her system. I was reminded of Renton locking himself in his room until he is clean in ‘Trainspotting’.

From here, the film gets weirder and more absorbing as the relationship between Lazarus and Rae gets stronger. They begin to change each other. Rae reminds Lazarus of his young days of sin as a wild musician, bringing life and verve back to him. Rae sees Lazarus as a long-needed father figure. They never have sex, per say, but there is a heat between them that culminates at a local bar, as Lazarus gets on stage with his guitar for the first time in what we believe to be decades. This is the most intense of the films’ many musical scenes, and perhaps the sexiest scene of the film.

‘Black Snake Moan’ is writer-director Craig Brewer’s follow-up to the great ‘Hustle and Flow’. Brewer revisits familiar territory in the themes of love (in all its forms), sex and redemption. Both films are about neglected people who find solace in one another. Brewer also uses music as a guide in both of his films. The music is a voice of the characters, to express that which they cannot say. I was impressed that Jackson chose to sing his own songs. His voice is raspy and cracks. He’s no longer able to hit every note. It adds age and soul to Lazarus.

The material of ‘Black Snake Moan’ is incredulous. In the wrong hands this film could have been exaggerated, over-the-top tripe. Brewer comes at the material in a refreshing straightforward manner. He knows the situations and actions of some of the characters are downright ludicrous, and so he doesn’t make excuses for them. He lets his actors embody their roles so that the actions are believable because we believe these characters would do them.

This is an actor’s film; a film built on performances. Both Jackson and Ricci turn in Oscar worthy roles. They go balls to the wall in their roles, opening themselves completely. Jackson owns the character of Lazarus and delivers him as a tired soul, looking to be invigorated. Ricci gives the bravest performance of her career. We get the feeling that Rae has experienced much pain and no real love through her life, except by Robbie (Justin Timberlake) who she feels abandoned by since he left for the Army.

There are also strong performances here from S. Epatha Merkerson as a good spirited pharmacist who shares an attraction with Lazarus. Their scenes together are natural and warm. Justin Timberlake follows up his role in ‘Alpha Dog’ with another strong performance as Robbie, Rae’s Army-bound boyfriend who is discharged because he suffers from crippling panic attacks.

‘Black Snake Moan’ may be hard for some to watch. Then again, some may not want to. Nevertheless, given the chance you’ll see some richly textured characters played superbly by great actors. Worst comes to worst, you can kick back and enjoy some good ol’ fashion blues music.