Nan Peterson literally rolls onto the scene after a harrowing horseback escape while sporting a sweater with an M L monogram emblazoned across her sculpted torso, which she claims stands for Minette Lanier, never mind the association with Marie Laveau. Upon her rescue and transport to town by Peter Coe as Jacques Guillot, the story begins to suck you in like Cajun quicksand. Jacques and his brother Pierre, played by Robert Richards, get their stones rolling via the coquettish Minette, yet still manage to gather a lot of moss as apparently there's a market for that stuff somehow. Minette skinny dips, dances in her bra to radio rock n' roll and initiates petting parties like a 50's anti-heroine busting out of the constraints of squareness in a seething cauldron of southern fried crawdad stew. These characters are engaging and of course get involved in inevitable spurts of violence, yet the last thing you want to see is any of them hurt or killed, based on an empathy for the players that seems rare in movies these days. There is a plot twist that is logical and unexpected which seamlessly rolls into the main story line. Full spectrum black and white low end production values only enhance the southern Gothic mise en scene. Betty Lynn of Andy Griffith fame along with character actor Harry Lauter and some lesser known figures add some spice to the cinematic gumbo which goes down quite smoothly.
