Eve’s Bayou
There is no shortage of stories about how deeply dysfunctional black families can be in the Deep South, but much, much there are fewer that manage to mix in some good old southern superstition and witchcraft into the mix. Eve’s Bayou has plenty of both, playing out like a sweatier, dirtier, black variant of Pan’s Labyrinth than, say, your average Toni Morrison adaptation. Come for Samuel L. Jackson playing a unique kind of complex, severely fucked-up father figure; stay for a black girl’s beautifully executed coming-of-age story.
