Movie Review: Cold Souls
I haven't seen Cold Souls...and despite what you're about to read, I'm probably going to give it a go anyway. My esteemed colleague, Justin Senkbile, did not so much care for it...as in, he pretty much hated it. This brings me to the thing about us reviewer folks: I know you can't (and don't...and shouldn't) 100% rely on us. What you should do is read our comments to see what sounds like something you'd identify with. For example, it seems like Justin's main hangup is an unnecessary complex plot with some overacting from Giamatti and a general lack of energy to the film. The first two don't bother me, I like overly complex sci-fi conceits and Giamatti overacting sounds pretty par for the course for what I was expecting. However, the lack of energy does make me a little concerned. So now my expectations are tempered, but I still want to see it. That's how I read critics anyway, I'd be curious to see what you take away from movie reviews...BREAK YOUR SILENCE below. Anyway, here's Justin's take:
Soul Searching
Cold Souls is tepid at best
Justin Senkbile
Writer/director Sophie Barthes' Cold Souls begins with a quote from the philosopher Descartes about the location of the soul (he says it's in the pineal gland). We're supposed to take this literally, as a justification for the film's quirky conceit: soul extraction is made possible through a simple medical procedure. I doubt any of us need this justification—Charlie Kaufman has long been plowing similar terrain with success. What we could really use at the beginning is some kind of explanation for the uneven messiness that follows.
Paul Giamatti (playing himself) is nearing the end of rehearsals for a production of Uncle Vanya and is beginning to lose it. On the advice of his agent, Paul signs up to have his soul removed, making it easier for him to separate from his on-stage character at the end of the day. But soullessness isn't all it's cracked up to be, and the neurotic Paul quickly regrets his decision.
Running parallel to all of this is the story of Nina (Dina Korzun), a Russian "mule" running discarded souls back and forth from New York to Saint Petersburg for sale on the black market. She steals Paul's stored soul for use by an aspiring actress, and the two stories finally come together, with more of a slight bump than a crash.
Cold Souls is nothing if not complicated. In fact, it's nothing but complicated. It obviously aspires to be a Kaufman-esque black comedy, but nearly every joke falls flat for various reasons. Sometimes it’s cringe-inducing overacting (surprisingly, from Giamatti), but mostly it's just plain old bad direction. Many scenes feel like an initial run-through, with the actors stumbling around their dialogue, and the concept of comedic timing is nowhere to be found.
One shouldn’t overlook the several great moments Giamatti is able to achieve. Heck, some of the Vanya rehearsal scenes are so captivating that one wishes they could be watching that instead. Barthes follows Paul and Nina very closely, so the supporting cast doesn't get much chance to stretch, with the exception of David Strathaim as the slick and suspicious Dr. Flintstein.
It'd be tough for any director to keep so many narrative and thematic shoestrings tied up, and Barthes' sheer guts in taking on so much with her first picture is admirable. But for a movie so concerned with the human condition, Cold Souls is shockingly lifeless.
Grade: D
Soul Searching
Cold Souls is tepid at best
Justin Senkbile
Writer/director Sophie Barthes' Cold Souls begins with a quote from the philosopher Descartes about the location of the soul (he says it's in the pineal gland). We're supposed to take this literally, as a justification for the film's quirky conceit: soul extraction is made possible through a simple medical procedure. I doubt any of us need this justification—Charlie Kaufman has long been plowing similar terrain with success. What we could really use at the beginning is some kind of explanation for the uneven messiness that follows.
Paul Giamatti (playing himself) is nearing the end of rehearsals for a production of Uncle Vanya and is beginning to lose it. On the advice of his agent, Paul signs up to have his soul removed, making it easier for him to separate from his on-stage character at the end of the day. But soullessness isn't all it's cracked up to be, and the neurotic Paul quickly regrets his decision.
Running parallel to all of this is the story of Nina (Dina Korzun), a Russian "mule" running discarded souls back and forth from New York to Saint Petersburg for sale on the black market. She steals Paul's stored soul for use by an aspiring actress, and the two stories finally come together, with more of a slight bump than a crash.
Cold Souls is nothing if not complicated. In fact, it's nothing but complicated. It obviously aspires to be a Kaufman-esque black comedy, but nearly every joke falls flat for various reasons. Sometimes it’s cringe-inducing overacting (surprisingly, from Giamatti), but mostly it's just plain old bad direction. Many scenes feel like an initial run-through, with the actors stumbling around their dialogue, and the concept of comedic timing is nowhere to be found.
One shouldn’t overlook the several great moments Giamatti is able to achieve. Heck, some of the Vanya rehearsal scenes are so captivating that one wishes they could be watching that instead. Barthes follows Paul and Nina very closely, so the supporting cast doesn't get much chance to stretch, with the exception of David Strathaim as the slick and suspicious Dr. Flintstein.
It'd be tough for any director to keep so many narrative and thematic shoestrings tied up, and Barthes' sheer guts in taking on so much with her first picture is admirable. But for a movie so concerned with the human condition, Cold Souls is shockingly lifeless.
Grade: D
Labels: cold souls review, Justin Senkbile, paul giamatti
posted by Ryan at
10:14 AM
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