Samuel L. Jackson chaining Christina Ricci to a radiator is not as offensive as you'd think

I've already packed for the conference tomorrow, and Lost doesn't begin for another 70 minutes, and I need an excuse to procrastinate from work on the dissertation. So here are some disconnected thoughts about Black Snake Moan.

As the title of this post states, its not as offensive -- at least in terms of half-naked women tied to radiators -- as the lurid promotional material would lead one to believe. Ricci spends maybe 40 minutes of screen time (about 2 days of diegetic time) chained up, and Jackson fairly quickly realizes the error of his ways. And any potential sadomasochism or misogyny is, potentially at least, undercut by the humor with which the scene is presented.

The film is more interesting, though not necessarily laudable, for how it portrays Jackson's character. Lazarus embodies both the minstrelsy that Craig Brewer reactivated in Hustle and Flow, and Chris Rock's "Magical Negro" who through selflessness and common sense helps white people achieve their dreams. Lazarus is, like Djay in Hustle, a means for the white audience to enjoy or perform vicariously an "earthier," more "realistic" (i.e. sexualized) mode of existence, simultaneously enjoying his take-no-prisoners rise to the top (the American story of fighting for one's dream of riches) while also assigning the socially unacceptable aspects of that rise (pimping and prostitution both as actual occupations and as metaphors for the sacrifices one makes to succeed) to the racial Other. The minstrel performance, traditionally a white man in blackface, allowed white performers and audiences to act out, to behave in socially unacceptable manners and "blame" it on black culture. Hence the exaggerated and sexualized characteristics of minstrelsy.

Lazarus is a blues musician, and his younger wife has done him wrong, leaving him in a bad funk. To emphasize how righteous Laz's bitterness is, Brewer occasionally splices in an interview with Son House about how real blues is about not being loved by the one you love. Laz also allows Brewer to fetishize blues and Southern black culture (earthy, real, a little violent, sexual). But Laz himself is not sexualized or otherwise exaggerated; Jackson actually gives a rather restrained performance. Instead of being the repository of white culture's vision of unrestrained black culture, Laz is the guarantor of the moralism that white culture hypocritically champions via minstrelsy. Rae, the chained woman, is the site of unrestrained sexuality and boisterousness that needs to be expressed and then contained by the minstrel's performance.

This probably counts as a spoiler, so be warned if you read further. Rae is cured of her nymphomania and drug abuse by Laz, but not by having been chained by him. It's his steady paternalism and soulful blues guitar playing that does the trick. Brewer does imply she needs to be chained (instead of a wedding ring, she wears a small gold chain around her waist and clutches it in a moment of need).

So anyway, what to make of this film. Like Hustle and Flow, it is rather well made: funny, confidently directed, smartly acted. But, like Hustle and Flow, one leaves the theatre feeling rather unsettled, and not in a good way. Brewer reactivates a lot of old stereotypes and invests them with a great deal of sentiment -- not necessarily a negative investment, either. But he seems unaware of any kind of history in these images; he doesn't seem to want to recuperate the sexuality and violence that he presents as important to Southern black culture, as much as shine it up and present it as that shiny all along. I suppose he's to be lauded for not being judgmental of his characters, but maybe I'd feel better about his films if I got the impression he was a little more discerning.