Craig Brewer’s “Black Snake Moan” is that rare form of exploitation cinema that you never see these days. It helps that it’s an original piece of exploitation cinema, but you can also imagine this as a Russ Meyer film, except that in a Meyer film, we’d have a curvaceous busty nympho strapped down with chains. Which is not a knock on Ricci in any way, but if this film were made in the late sixties, it would be an unabashed cult classic that we’d be boasting of for decades. “Black Snake Moan” even in a modern setting, is gloriously ahead of its time, it’s a film that stands out in the endless titles of male bashing media, where for once our female protagonist is a broken down basket case, and our male a wise older moral center who finds extreme methods in teaching her a lesson. What the inevitable parallels draw is of a man whose wife just couldn’t stop cheating on him, while he comes across the young and sultry Rae, a young girl who has this uncontrollable urge to have sex, and will have it with anyone within her grasp to settle the craving. Brewer’s film is such a fantastically directed piece on the backwoods of the South displaying two characters trying to slay individual beasts of their own life.

Brewer’s film is filled with a variety of fascinating characters, all ruled by their flaws instead of their strengths, including Lazarus, who is played with sheer power by Samuel L. Jackson. Jackson is the sheer highlight of this film, embodying this unusual character who knows he’s barely capable of taking care of himself, yet can’t help taking care of Rae and keeping her out of trouble. The film is not completely centered on the gimmick of the woman strapped to a chain, and actually delves into the core of Rae’s sexual addiction with bitter extrapolation, and Ricci creates a memorable personality, always able to keep up with Jackson’s sheer powerhouse performance that will assuredly go overlooked during Oscar time.

The weak point during the pace of “Black Snake Moan” begins and ends with Justin Timberlake, whose performance is weak and often brings the story to a screeching halt. Though he is one in the same with Rae, his character often helps Brewer meander from the actual point of watching Rae seek some form of redemption, and I could never find a believable connection between these two. Timberlake’s performance is often over the top, and he can never keep the energy going when he’s around the likes of Jackson and Ricci on-screen.

In spite of the performance by Timberlake, “Black Snake Moan” is a wonderful original film worthy of a cult following and woefully ahead of its time. With excellent performances, plays on morality and sexual behavior, Brewer composes another surefire classic.