Gateway Cinephiles

3-Minute Intro: Black Snake Moan

Screened: February 19, 2008
Format: DVD - Paramount (2007)
Selected By: Teresa

Envision the most preposterous, incendiary story that a major Hollywood studio would dare to distribute in the twenty-first century, and that film might look something like Black Snake Moan. It’s probably best to describe Craig Brewer’s 2007 journey into sweat-stained, southern-fried hell straightforwardly: This is the story of an older black man who chains a younger white woman to his radiator in order to cure her of nymphomania. Much like Brewer’s breakout feature, Hustle & Flow, Moan provoked accusations of poor taste, questionable intent, and outright misogyny. It proved to be among the most divisive films of the year, appearing on numerous Best and Worst of 2007 lists.

With financial backing from black new wave director John Singleton, Brewer caught filmgoers’ attention at the Sundance Film Festival with his 2005 prostitution-and-hip-hop epic. Even his most recent film’s detractors seem to agree that Black Snake Moan represents a leap forward for Brewer, a refinement of his aesthetic and a deepening of his audacious convictions. Moan is an exploitation film in the finest tradition of the genre, and serves as a soulful homage to the stickiest crevasses of backwoods Tennessee. Whether the film also offers an ugly, retrograde understanding of women is hotly debated, and it will likely remain contentious for some time.

Christina Ricci lays claim to the standout performance in Moan; she clearly values a compelling portrayal more than anything as fleeting as dignity. Her turn as the bedraggled, hollow-eyed, sex-crazed Rae may be the role of her career. Samuel L. Jackson, as broken blues hound Lazarus, has the tricky task of appealing to the viewer’s sympathies even as he enslaves a woman “for her own good.” Jackson learned to play the guitar just for this film–an appropriate feat, given that Brewer relies heavily on a molasses-thick blues sensibility to inform the film’s look and rhythms. Like the blues, Moan drips with desperation and a shameless understanding of its own urges. Ultimately, Black Snake Moan is ambiguous as to the redemptive power of kidnapping, but it has a whole lot of fun gaping at the sheer ugliness and splendor of broken people in conflict.