... 2 really fucked up people in love, who really need each other, and in are in really tough situation...just doing the best they can under the circumstances. Obviously they have a long hard road ahead. They could've given it the perfect Hollywood ending where she's all "cured" and everything is perfect and they just leave and have an easy life not dealing with their demons, but they didn't and I can appreciate that.

Critics have been attacking Black Snake Moan for being shallow, and saying that it's a poster that needs a film (the posters set the film up as an exploitation flick, as though it's a lost section of Grindhouse). And, for the first act, there's a heavy, arrogant swagger as Rae, played by Christina Ricci, waves goodbye to her anxiety disorder-suffering, soldier boyfriend, Ronnie (portrayed surprisingly well by Justin Timberlake) and goes about having sex with a healthy portion of her Southern town. It soon transpires that she is a nymphomaniac, and in true exploitation style we see her beaten, nearly raped, and left in a heap on a road. It is here that she is taken in by Samuel L Jackson's Lazarus (no blindingly obvious analogy here, then), who we have previously seen is a God-fearing ex-bluesman whose first scene involves his wife of twenty years leaving him for his younger brother. While Lazarus' introduction is decidedly more deliberate and restrained than Rae's - this proving to be the fundamental difference between the two characters early on - we do see him at his brother's neck with a broken beer bottle, threatening him to "tell me that you love me!" This is exploitation, and no mistake.

The two main characters having been brought together thanks to Rae's near-rape, the film begins to pick up its pace, albeit slowly. Lazarus leaves Rae on his couch while she fades in and out of consciousness, and after two days she finally wakes up. Upon trying to leave, however, she finds herself bound to Lazarus' radiator by a huge metal chain, padlocked around her waist. Turning down the sex that she offers him, we learn that he sees an opportunity to save Rae and turn her around, having learned about her behaviour from townsfolk. The film suffers a slightly boring spell here, where, although there are some funny moments (as all good drama provokes), the repetitive nature of Rae's struggles against the chain begins to tire. Fortunately, this doesn't last long, and the film soon sucks you back in.

You'd be forgiven for assuming that the point at which Rae finds herself chained would mark the first real change in tone of the film. However, the film remains firmly within the realm of exploitation - Rae appears to turn her chains into a piece of bondage equipment to help her sleep, and even has sex with Lincoln, a virgin delivery boy, when he visits Lazarus' house. The change in tone - and it is a very big change - comes when Lazarus tells Rae to wear a dress he has bought her from the town, to help her look more respectable. Making her help him cook dinner for the two of them, the local reverend (a good friend of Lazarus') and Lincoln, Rae begins to feel respected and want to change her ways - which marks the point at which we begin to truly care about her. Seeing her in the first act as a depraved, sex-addicted junkie made for a good character, but not one you could feel sympathy for. Seeing her starting to clean herself up and help herself, we realise that she is a human being who we can feel pity for but also have hope in. Soon, Lazarus undoes the lock on her chain, freeing her, recognising that he has no right to keep her bound, and telling her to live her life the way she wants. She asks him to do one thing for her: to play her the blues.

The following scene is quite amazing, showing that the connection the two characters have forged over the previous three or four days is strong and enduring, as a storm begins to scare Rae (reminding her of hallucinations she has been experiencing) and she grabs onto Lazarus' leg for safety, while he continues to play a hard-edged, overdriven blues riff and sing powerfully along. During the rest of the film, although Rae has been physically freed from her chain, she finds solace in being near Lazarus and even continues to sleep in his house. Lazarus, equally, appears to find a similar peace and mutual understanding with Rae - they may not know about each other's specific crosses to bear, but they don't need to; their understanding of one another is such that just the presence of the other person is enough to comfort them. It is suggested in one scene that Rae was abused by her father as a child, and this makes her latching onto Lazarus even more meaningful, while Lazarus seems to appreciate having (or even need) someone to care for since his wife left him.

Music as a symbol of emotional release and escape, not to mention of salvation and redemption, has now been firmly introduced into the film and is expressed energetically and decisively in a scene in which Lazarus takes to the stage for the first time in years, at a bar he used to play to, and gets not only the crowd caught up in the music, but also Rae, a fatherlike smile telling her she can join the dancefloor and get lost in the moment. It is at this point that the film reaches its true peak, while the climax of the plot is yet to come.

Ronnie has been discharged from the army on account of his anxiety disorder. He learns from his friend that Rae has not been faithful to him, and is enraged, sneaking into Lazarus' house and confronting him with a gun. After he has talked him out of his anger, the film takes a slight downturn into a relatively (for the film, at any rate) conventional ending, where, having talked about their respective problems (in Rae's words, "I think we're fucked up"), she and Ronnie get married and drive away, although the final shot of the film shows him suffering a panic attack while she manages to control her still-recurrent sexual urges (grasping at a none-too-subtle chain around her waist, given to her as a wedding gift by Ronnie - though don't assume 'none-too-subtle- to mean 'crude and stupid') to move over and comfort him, leaving us with a refreshingly honest message of hope, that although the characters have their respective problems and issues, they won't succumb to them, but instead do their best to work through them. Lazarus has arguably the happiest ending of all, as the quietly tortured father figure we have cared about throughout the entire film is seen holding hands with a woman he has been becoming close to at various points.

The film has been misunderstood by critics expecting (and wanting) it to be like the poster. It is more of a case of inaccurate marketing, because the exploitation in the film is confined to only the first 50 minutes or so. In reality, the film is a slow-burning character piece, keeping you hooked not only by the superb characters, surprisingly believeable plot, and well-judged pace, but also by the stellar performances of Christina Ricci and Samuel L Jackson. Ricci's decision to take the role of Rae was largely thought to be a risky one - as though with any other actress it wouldn't have been, given Rae's behaviour and tendency to spend most of her time half-naked - but the absolutely nails it, turning what could, and in the hands of a different actress, would have been an overacted, unsubtle performance into a refined, deep portrayal of a girl with huge problems who has been hurt in the past and is clearly feeling the effects. Jackson, too, gets his performance spot on, and not only deserves every plaudit he gets for this, but also should be recognised for effortlessly and deftly injecting the character of Lazarus with many of the nuances and character traits that have made him famous for 'attitude' - humourously, more so than he did in his other 'snake film', which was made more or less purely to show his 'attitude' in full flow. The few background actors do the two leads justice, with good performances all around, even including Justin Timberlake, whose only real problem in the film is his fame - it's hard to see him as 'Ronnie', in the same way that we see Ricci as 'Rae'.

Black Snake Moan is effectively a blues song in visuals. Quite apart from the blues riffs which seem to tear themselves viciously from Lazarus' guitar (indeed, during the scene in which he plays to Rae during the storm, that song is in fact Black Snake Moan itself, by Blind Lemon Jefferson), it really can be likened to a blues song in its entirety. Critics have complained about what they perceive as a lack of depth to the film - that's their fault completely. You can listen to blues songs superficially, as simple stories, or you can choose to dig beneath the surface and uncover themes and motifs that perhaps aren't immediately apparent, and reward the patient and diligent listener. Black Snake Moan is very similar - you can see it as a story of two different people who are eventually able to help one another, laced with some gratuitous violence and sex, and overall lacking substance, or you can become surrounded by the film and experience themes of personal woes, redemption and salvation, love, relationships, temptation, rage and restraint, to isolate just a few. There's also some beautiful, fantastic symbolism and simply breathtaking imagery, such as Rae strewn across Lazarus' sofa, trailing the chain around her legs. Craig Brewer really seems to have an eye for creative composition and exquisite shots.