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Cold Souls (2009)

This is a concept movie, in a way, though the concept--that you can have your soul extracted and stored in a jar so that you can live without its weight--is actually a bit thin after awhile. What drives it is not something actually heavy or surreal, about having and trading real souls, but more the idea that your soul also affects, very slightly, your personality, or your talent. So really what happens is people begin to trade or borrow souls, and they acquire a little bit of the owner's qualities. And that carries along a few consequences. naturally.

Everything is presented in a deadpan comic way. The souls stored in their foot long glass jars vary greatly, some looking like creative sculptures and others like, well, a jelly bean. Or in the case of our hero, Paul Giamatti, a garbanzo bean. (The Russian half of the cast says in joyful astonishment, "a chick pea!")

Giamatti is not my favorite actor but all my friends think he's terrific and I like the type he plays, a schlumpy everyman with Homer Simpson eyes. And Giamatti, who plays a character named Paul Giamatti, makes this movie. It isn't a tour de force, an Al Pacino or Cate Blanchett jaw-dropper, though I think it's meant to be (he even has roles within roles, with his character rehearsing a stage play). To some extent his willingness to succumb to the movie's simple, clever plot is one of its charms.

There are echoes of the absurd and the playful of two earlier (and better) movies, the incredibly inventive "Being John Malkovich" and the cinematically engrossing "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind." Both of those are written by the astonishing Charlie Kaufman. Here the writer Sophie Barthes is working almost solo since she is also directing, and if it's solid it's also short of its potential, which unfortunately is so obvious. It's a great idea. And a rather good movie.

Cold Souls is set in a world where souls are extracted from humans and traded as commodites. Paul Giamatti is an anxious New Yorker who finds the answer to his deep-rooted malaise after stumbling upon an article about a high-tech company that claims to have found a solution to human suffering. By deep-freezing souls, claims the company, they can give their customers a life free from fear, doubt, and worry. Eager to free himself from the emotional burden of angst, Giamatti eagerly enlists their services. Trouble arises, however, when Giamatti's soul is swiped by a soul-trafficking "mule" who in turn gives it to a no-talent Russian soap opera actress. Cold Souls is one of those weird, off-beat films that usually people either love or hate. Let me start by saying that I'm always up for an existential film. I love films with depth, that pose interesting questions, that make us think, either about life, love or ourselves. I love films that speak to our intellect. But for me, Cold Souls has an identity crisis. It balances between a comedy and an existential drama with hints of science fiction. What seems to be a funny chain of events is dealt in a very serious manner. But at the same time, not serious enough to be convincing as a drama or sci-fi. I blame the script. The film does touch in some very interesting subjects but never really delivers the depth I was expecting. Unlike what's written in some synopses, Giamatti's character doesn't seem to come to any realizations. He doesn't discover anything about life or himself and what he went trough seems to have been in vein. On a more positive note, the film was beautifully shot, the soundtrack is great and Paul Giamatti who plays a fictionalized version of himself was superb and a delight to watch. Cold Souls is obviously a breath of fresh air due to its originality but this concept deserved a better execution.

6.5/10

Cold Souls: Existential Science-Fiction by PAUL CONSTANT

If you're only reading the synopsis, it's easy to see why so many lazy critics have compared Cold Souls to Being John Malkovich: Paul Giamatti stars as an actor named Paul Giamatti, whose soul is tormented by the kind of showy existential angst that commonly strikes actors, so he visits a laboratory that he reads about in the New Yorker that specializes in the removal and storage of souls. There's enough postmodern science-fiction weirdness in that premise to superficially resemble Malkovich, but Souls is more rooted in the surrealism and social commentary of Gogol. (When the film came to SIFF in June, director Sophie Barthes remarked that the title was intended to echo Dead Souls.)

Barthes is a startlingly assured first-time director: The production values are impeccable (the soul-removal facility is all gorgeous minimalism, smooth white and glass), and she coaxes better-than-average performances out of even dependably intelligent actors like Giamatti and David Strathairn. As a soulless Giamatti hilariously tries in vain to act in a Broadway production of Uncle Vanya, he comes to understand what he has given up and then decides to pursue his missing soul to Russia. You get the sense that these locations and these concepts have never been put to film before in quite such a playfully considerate way.

It's a real pleasure to see thoughtful, satirical low-budget science fiction in an American film, especially one with such a European sensibility. This is a very literary film and a very Russian film. And, yes, if you're worried, the fact that it is literary and Russian means that it is a slow movie. But it's the very best kind of slow movie, lingering unselfconsciously on the idea of what it means to have a soul. You don't often get to see movies tackle these kinds of Big Questions with such skill and aplomb; it's undeniably refreshing.

This is depressing, because it is not merely bad, it stomps on some very precious ideas.

The fault is in trying to be Woody Allen; even he fails most of the time. There is a deep concept here, but it is obscured by the attempt to wrap it in humor.

The thing worth noticing:

This is a film about performance. Actors have a cursed life in that they have to fill themselves by emptying themselves. The full life is the life committed to potential waste. We are all actors. These concepts first appeared in drama in the famous Vanya of Chekhov. "Vanya on 42nd Street" changed that into a layered folding, making the connection to life outside of the theater explicit.

Here, Giamatti plays the role of Wallace Shawnin "Vanya on 42nd."

David Strathairn plays the same role he did in the similar "Limbo," while Dina Korzun adapts the Audrey Tautou role from "Dirty Pretty Things."

Even the secondary characters are pulled from cold storage with Lauren Ambrose asked to stand in for the Alicia Witt role in "Liebestraum." All of those referenced films repackage Vanya's notions which are deep and disturbing, as suicidally disturbing as they were for the uncle.

There is a way to handle this with humor, I am sure, but Barthes does not find it. She empties and does not fill.

Ted's Evaluation -- 2 of 3: Has some interesting elements.

I saw this film today as part of FSLC and MoMA's New Directors / New Films Festival. The screening was followed by a Q&A with writer/director Sophie Barthes, who openly admitted to being annoyed by comparisons between her film and Charlie Kaufman's works. Though not entirely similar, the surrealist feel of 'Souls' is bound to draw those comparisons, and even if Barthes is sick of hearing it, I have to say, I imagine that if Kaufman and Anton Chekhov decided they should write a movie together and Michel Gondry agreed to direct Paul Giamatti in it, this would be the result.

The film focuses on Giamatti, who plays a version of himself preparing to star in Chekhov's 'Uncle Vanya' on Broadway. He finds himself tormented by the Russian material, even though it's one of Chekhov's "lighter" plays. In search of relief, he undergoes a procedure in what looks like a modded MRI machine at the hand of Dr. Flintstein (David Strathairn) which removes his chickpea-like soul from his body and freezes it temporarily until he is ready to possess it again. The B story follows a willowy Russian named Nina (Dina Korzun) who transports anonymously donated Russian souls to America using her own body as the vessel. At one point, she takes Giamatti's soul to Russia, where her boss's soap-actress wife is in need of talent and inspiration, and of course, trouble ensues.

Despite the heavy subject matter, an abundance of absurdity and wit make 'Cold Souls' amusing as well as thought-provoking. Though the tone is dark, it is not suffocatingly so--Barthes pokes fun at existential torment while seriously grappling with it at the same time. Giamatti is great as the "actor much like himself" and Strathairn and Korzun provide excellent support. The camera drifts in and out of focus in a beautiful manner throughout the film, and the French music suits the mood. The writing is solid, though the pacing is a little uneven--the film begins and wraps up a little too quickly--and the three years of hard work that Barthes poured into this clearly show.

Barthes said that she based the screenplay on a dream she had, and that while she admires Kaufman, she was more heavily influenced by Woody Allen and French Surrealists like Luis Buneal. She has infused this dark Surrealism with whimsy and absurdism to create something entirely her own, and the result prompts both pleasure and discomfort. 'Cold Souls' is definitely worth watching--I hope it's distributed as widely as it deserves to be--and Barthes is definitely a writer and director I'd watch in the future.