A solid, little second film...
As he demonstrated in his far superior Hustle & Flow (2005), Brewer has a solid feel for the milieu and vernacular of rural, working-class Southerners, black and white. There's a down- home, gritty verisimilitude to both that film and Black Snake Moan, which is only enhanced by Brewer's use of music for emotional texture. Unlike Hustle and Flow, however, Black Snake Moan is a vague and unfocused film, pitched uncertainly between steamy exploitation flick and character study, which promises far more than it delivers. Touching, albeit in cursory fashion, on long-standing social and racial taboos vis-à-vis the power dynamic between Lazarus and Rae, Brewer apparently loses his nerve at about the halfway mark, for the rough, sexually charged edge to their relationship dissipates, giving way to a safe, surrogate father- daughter bond. As it turns out, all poor little trampy Rae needs is a hugditto that for Lazarus, who rediscovers his love of blues by performing at a local juke joint. It's a simplistic and unsatisfying narrative turn, regrettably one of many in the second half of Black Snake Moan, a frustrating film that ultimately leaves you singin' the blues about Brewer's dual failure of imagination and nerve.
As he demonstrated in his far superior Hustle & Flow (2005), Brewer has a solid feel for the milieu and vernacular of rural, working-class Southerners, black and white. There's a down- home, gritty verisimilitude to both that film and Black Snake Moan, which is only enhanced by Brewer's use of music for emotional texture. Unlike Hustle and Flow, however, Black Snake Moan is a vague and unfocused film, pitched uncertainly between steamy exploitation flick and character study, which promises far more than it delivers. Touching, albeit in cursory fashion, on long-standing social and racial taboos vis-à-vis the power dynamic between Lazarus and Rae, Brewer apparently loses his nerve at about the halfway mark, for the rough, sexually charged edge to their relationship dissipates, giving way to a safe, surrogate father- daughter bond. As it turns out, all poor little trampy Rae needs is a hugditto that for Lazarus, who rediscovers his love of blues by performing at a local juke joint. It's a simplistic and unsatisfying narrative turn, regrettably one of many in the second half of Black Snake Moan, a frustrating film that ultimately leaves you singin' the blues about Brewer's dual failure of imagination and nerve.
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