Let's not beat about the bush. A certain rather seedy sector of the viewing public will be tuning into this for the sight of a near naked Christina Ricci flailing at the end of a steel chain.

Their interest will not be fuelled by any charitable thoughts of salvation for Ricci's tarty teen...but considerations of an altogether more unsavoury variety.

She's been shackled by God-fearing bluesman Lazurus (Jackson), who justifies his rather wonky chastisement by declaring rather grandly that: "The Lord saw fit to put you in my path."

This isn't good news for Rae (Ricci), a lewd strumpet who's landed up in Jackson's shack after getting stoned, slipping in a quick knee-trembler, getting beaten up and dumped at the side of the road.

Lazarus is fighting his own demons after his wife of 20-odd years cheated on him with his brother and he's getting grief from his best buddy and local preacher RL (Cothran).

So the last thing he needs is spaced-out Rae manically scrabbling around his vegetable patch in her smalls.

Anyway, they eventually arrive at some sort of accommodation...until the shadow of Rae's GI Johnny fiance Justin Timberlake looms over a crucial stage of the healing process.

Make no mistake, this is a weird one. The scenes featuring a manacled Ricci make for a disturbing voyeurism set for a viewing profile the film-makers never intended.

Yet it's eminently watchable with Jackson - after a series of no-brainers such as Snakes on a Plane - delivering a first-class performance.

A raw Christina Ricci is also excellent as the abused child-turned-delinquent slut whose anxiety attacks signal a fevered bout of promiscuity.

On the downside, the tone switches from a the slightly kinky to an ending that wouldn't be too far out of place in Little House on the Prairie. Weird indeed.

By the way, the title is taken from an old Delta blues classic by Blind Lemon Jefferson written as he was losing his sight

Tim Evans