Sally Jane Black’s review published on Letterboxd:
At the point where the name Louis Cyphre appears on screen/is said, I just gave up. This is a film that is utterly absurd. I enjoyed it, for the most part, though I am not sure it ever once made any sense at all. It's one of those films that portrays a New Orleans that only exists in the minds of people who've seen it on television, and that's fine as far as it goes. It feels like the actors are at least rolling with it, and the hamminess just adds to the charm more than distract from anything. There's not much to distract from.
There are hints, here and there, of a racial message in the film, but it never goes anywhere with them. The African-Americans in the cast are all religious in some way, it seems, and an early depiction of a Christian service almost feels like a nod toward admitting not all black people are voodoo worshipers. (That voodoo is depicted in a relatively neutral light is also notable; I say relatively because it is sensationalized and visceral, but the darker power present has nothing to do with it, really.)
All I knew of this film before watching it was that it was set in New Orleans and that the cool sister from The Cosby Show (admittedly, a tiny childhood crush) was naked in it. I find it a condemnation on our society that the twenty other absurdities in this film aren't more well known instead.