Movies That Are... Just Movies

Black Snake Moan
Black Snake Moan could have been so good. Could have been soooo good. Portrayed in its trailers and posters as pulpy insanity about an African-American man who chains a nymphomaniacal white woman to his radiator, this could have been a balls-out masterpiece had director Craig Brewer (Hustle & Flow) chosen to go that direction. We’re talking full-on cult classic that harkens back to the to the 1970’s glory days of exploitation films. Shit, Quentin Tarantino would have been lined up and ready to beat the drum loudly for this movie if he’d done that. Even if Brewer hadn’t gone that route, he could have chosen to examine the racial powderkeg that still exists in the South in the early 2000’s. Anything – anything – would have been a better road than the one that he leads the audience down. The film starts off promisingly enough as The Black Keys’ grimy “When The Lights Go Out” frames the open as we’re introduced to Rae (Christina Ricci, Monster), a sex freak cursed with a “sickness” that makes her get all slutty any time her man, Ronnie (Justin Timberlake, Alpha Dog) isn’t around (and believe me, I use the term “man” loosely since he’s being played by Timberlake). After getting royally trashed at a party after her manboy ships off with the military, Rae is brutally assaulted and is left for dead on the side of the road, where she’s found by Lazarus (Samuel L. Jackson, Snakes On A Plane). A bluesman having recently endured his wife cheating on him with his own brother, Lazarus is broken down and latches onto Rae by initially nursing her back to health, only to later decide to help to cure her of her “sickness” by any means necessary after she tries to get on his cock. This is where Brewer’s car blows an axle, as it were. Up until this point, just about everything has worked. We see where the movie’s heading and it looks like a place where everyone can have some crazy fun. Instead, Brewer swerves the ride into Lifetime movie-of-the-week territory as Lazarus begins to see Rae as the daughter he never had and Rae starts to view Lazarus as the father figure she desperately needs. My question is this: How do you fuck this up so badly, Craig Brewer?! You’ve got Sam Jackson playing a weathered bluesman, showing some surprisingly competent musical chops. The guy’s good in almost everything that he’s in (well, with the exception of The Man – what the fuck was he thinking on that one) and you proceed to reduce him to a pile of sentimental jelly. You have a half-naked (and frequently topless) Christina Ricci as a nympho…

Sorry… my mind was elsewhere. Where was I? … Oh yeah, Christina Ricci as a nympho who somehow sees Justin Fucking Timberlake as her rock and as the pillar of manhood. You also try to frame Timberlake as a tough guy once he sees how Rae has been spreading it around, even though the incredibly petite Ricci is more physically imposing than JT. And I could go on and on and on, but I don’t think I really need to at this point. After showing some promise with the entertaining (if a little uneven) Hustle & Flow, it’s obvious that Brewer has slipped more than a little bit with this sentimental nonsense. As an aside, strangely enough the film begins to get bad just as Ricci puts more clothes on. I’m just saying. Anyway, call Black Snake Moan half of a good movie whose final 45 minutes are best left forgotten.

Dirty Rating: 52/100

Black Snake Moan On Metacritic
Black Snake Moan On Rotten Tomatoes