EVE’S BAYOU (Directed by Karl Lemmons. Starring Samuel L. Jackson, Lynn Whitfield, Debbi Morgan)

VISUALLY GORGEOUS and deliciously twisted, this superior swamp-scented Louisiana thriller – with generous dollops of voodoo imagery and equal hints of Tennessee Williams and Maya Angelou – is undoubtedly worth the price of entry.

It starts off threatening to be a mere chick-flick, and comes close on occasion thanks to a mild overdose of Fried Green Fucking Tomatoes-style sisterhood bonding, but generally speaking Eve’s Bayou is far too tightly-paced and razor-scripted to summarily dismiss.

Jackson, the only male character of any note, plays a charming and insatiably horny town doctor whose wife is endlessly driven to distraction by his tendency to stay out all night long. His daughters are also beginning to wonder about the magnitude of his workload, especially after the youngest – played with astonishing assurance and sweetness by 10-year-old child star Jurnee Smollett – witnesses him, or thinks she witnesses him (“but of course you were only seeing things”) in a lusty exchange with a neighbourhood madame.

This film’s trajectory traces the increasingly devastating effect Jackson’s actions have on his family, and a touch of voodoo is introduced midway as the 10-year-old Eve gets herself mixed up with forces way beyond her control.

Samuel L. Jackson is in brilliant form throughout. Debbi Morgan, meanwhile, puts in a show-stealing performance as the ultrasexy sister-in-law of the clan, who also happens to be gifted with visionary psychic powers, and the movie hurtles towards a pleasingly apocalyptic conclusion.

A feast for the eyes and a rattling good little thriller, if well short of masterpiece status. It marks an extremely auspicious early warning from first-time writer and director Kasi Lemmons. Eve’s Bayou burns like a New Orleans night. (CF)