‘Bayou’ Paints Rich Portraits of Women

There has never been a film quite like Kasi Lemmons’ shimmering “Eve’s Bayou.” There have been plenty of mood pieces about white Southerners, usually decadent types, and there have been films about hardships of oppressed blacks. But “Eve’s Bayou” is virtually unique as a fable about an old Louisiana Creole family living in an antique-filled manor house that’s every bit as elegant as a white aristocrat’s plantation.

The Batistes are clearly more prosperous than the people of Julie Dash’s more stylized “Daughters of the Dust,” the film it most closely resembles. As a memory piece of acute psychological insight it is as evocative of time and place as a work by Truman Capote or Tennessee Williams. “Eve’s Bayou” is an inspired achievement, with superb cinematography by Amy Vincent, absolutely crucial to the film’s success. The same can be said for Terence Blanchard’s lovely, languorous score and the impeccable production design by Jeff Howard and costume design by Karyn Wagner. There are no false notes in this fine, venturesome film, one of the year’s best.

We witness not a single instance of racial discrimination or bigotry but instead share in a mystical experience of what it means to be a black woman--proud, beautiful, vulnerable yet resilient. You can’t improve upon the film’s description offered by its distributor, Trimark: “The true topography of ‘Eve’s Bayou’ is a locale somewhere between the material and spiritual worlds, where truth and its perception can change shape, depending on the light of day.”

Geographically speaking, the film takes place in a small backwater Louisiana community in the ‘50s. It unfolds from the point of view of a 10-year-old girl; it is her voice as a woman looking back over the decades that serves as the film’s narration. She tells us that the community’s name, Eve’s Bayou, comes from the name of a slave woman whose medicines saved the life of a white planter, Jean-Louis Batiste, who set her free and gave her land. Our narrator, named Eve in honor of her ancestor, informs us wryly that the original Eve in turn presented Batiste with 16 children.

The present-day head of the family is Dr. Louis Batiste (Samuel L. Jackson), who lives in that gracious old home with his beautiful, glamorous wife Roz (Lynn Whitfield), their 14-year-old daughter Cisely (Meagan Good), Eve (Jurnee Smollett) and 9-year-old son Poe (Jake Smollett) and the proud and proper Gran’ Mere (Ethel Ayler). We meet the Batistes during a gala party in their home. Everyone seems to be beaming with happiness but already we have evidence that this impression is misleading, as Louis dances vigorously with a woman who flaunts her lush body outrageously.

Dr. Batiste is a world-class charmer who sincerely loves his wife and family but is a constant philanderer who seems oblivious to the pain he causes his wife--and the daughters who, as worshipful as they are of him, are on the verge of comprehending his infidelity and its impact on their mother and themselves.

In a very real sense “Eve’s Bayou” is a gallery of portraits of women. The most vivid is Debbi Morgan as Mozelle, Louis’ gorgeous, fiery sister, a self-described “psychic counselor” who can see into the futures of many but was never able to foretell the deaths of her three husbands, something that understandably haunts her.

In contrast to Mozelle is the ferocious local voodoo woman Elzora (Diahann Carroll) whose fortunetelling so scares the already unhappy Roz that she becomes terrified to leave her three children out of her sight. Together, Mozelle and Elzora represent the range of superstition, the mix of Catholicism and Yoruba that persists into modern times.

Carefully observing though not fully understanding all that’s going on around her, Eve is coming of age. The key relationship of the film is that between the childless Mozelle and Eve, the child she is determined to protect while strengthening her to deal with whatever life holds for her.

Lemmons not only sees all these people in the round but also understands that human relations can be a “Rashomon”--that truth can seemingly vary depending on the point of view. This shifting view of reality, coupled with the spiritual longings of Lemmons’ people, give “Eve’s Bayou” a distinctive richness. Lemmons’ command of cinematic style, her appreciation of the chimerical aspects of life and her ability to inspire actors to give remarkably faceted portrayals mark “Eve’s Bayou” a first film of exceptional promise.

* MPAA rating: R, for sexuality and language. Times guidelines: The film is too intense and mature in its themes for children.

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‘Eve’s Bayou’

Samuel L. Jackson: Dr. Louis Batiste

Lynn Whitfield: Roz Batiste

Debbi Morgan: Mozelle Batiste Delacroix

Jurnee Smollett: Eve Batiste

Diahann Carroll: Elzora

A Trimark presentation of a Chubbco/Addis Wechsler production. Writer-director Kasi Lemmons. Producers Caldecott Chubb and Samuel L. Jackson. Executive producers Eli Selden, Nick Wechsler & Julie Silverman Yorn. Cinematographer Amy Vincent. Editor Terilyn A. Shropshire. Costumes Karyn Wagner. Music Terence Blanchard. Production designer Jeff Howard. Art director Adele Plauche. Set decorator Joanne Schmidt. Running time: 1 hour, 39 minutes.

* At selected theaters throughout Southern California.