Cold Souls

Right so (deep breath) we've got Paul Giamatti playing himself and he goes and has his soul removed because in this reality they can do that and then the soul gets stolen and traded on the Russian black market so Giamatti, with the help of a soul mule, sets out to get it back all the while carrying intense sorrow after having the soul of a Russian factory worker that he thought was a poet's inserted into him. I say "Hello Mr. Kaufman love the new zany idea. Only you're not Charlie, in fact you're not even a man. What have you done with Charlie?" and so on and so on.

Cold Souls is, in fact, the debut feature from writer/director Sophie Barthes and is no where near the Kaufman-esque romp that the synopsis suggests. It is, rather, a far darker, slower and more ponderous film than anything Hollywood's chief "quirk composer" has ever turned out.

It's a very assured film, indeed it's a shock that it's Barthes first. The material is handled cleverly, never looking to descend into the farce this could so easily have been. In fact it's quite a sober treatment on the idea of a soul trade. This is a world where the ultimate commodity is now being exploited and people are literally selling souls, just not their own. Thankfully it never becomes heavy handed in its message. It's also quite funny, although in more subtle ways than the set up would suggest. Witness Giamatti's chick pea like soul or the alarm when he realises it's being used by a soap actress. He worries about the damage that may cause.

It's Giamatti that's the main draw in Cold Souls. He is wonderful sending up himself and his position within Hollywood. It's a performance that papers over a few of the film's cracks. The style may be impressive but it also works against the film at times. It drags a little and kind of peters out. In a way it's all a little too self-consciously "indie" for its own good. In the end though it's a clever, thoughtful and creative little film that marks Barthes as one to watch.