There is a balm in Gilead
To make the wounded whole
There is a balm in Gilead
To heal the sin-sick soul

Black Snake Moan is an uproarious dark comedy, a gritty moral fable, a soulful blues musical and a surprisingly sweet romance all in one. But possibly more than anything, Black Snake Moan is about the South: a hot, forlorn, almost mythical south, where God and the Devil duke it out on a daily basis. And in the story that confronts us, we witness a mighty terrible brawl that’s bound to be told for generations to come.

Rae (Christina Ricci) is a frenzied nymphomaniac who’s young husband (Justin Timberlake) has shipped off with the National Guard. Lazarus (Samuel L. Jackson) is a bible believing, former blues singer whose wife has left him for his brother. Now God’s seen fit to put these two together. And Lazarus sees in himself a divine duty to make the wrong things right.

A lot of critics have bemoaned Lazarus’ initial method of fixin’ Rae – that of chaining her to the radiator. (A. O. Scott humorously points out that that part is missing from his copy of the Bible.) And fair enough, but they seem to miss the fact that Lazarus repents himself before too long, and that it’s only after she’s been released that the healing begins. Critics’ discomfort with the scene is also a bit ironic, considering the praise that was given to Craig Brewer’s previous Hustle and Flow – a film that smiled at prostitution, drug dealing and gang fighting.

Black Snake Moan takes us down deep into a dark world, a world that’s as scary as a thunderstorm on a dark night. But to focus on Moan’s dark thunderstorm is to miss the point; it’s to miss the ray of light that breaks through the clouds when it’s over. Rae’s light raises Lazarus from the dead, and his honest, affecting blues help exorcize her demons. The Devil’s lost this round. And Lazarus’ wailing guitar will play on.