Review of Cold Souls (2009) by Ray J — 03 Sep 2009

In Cold Souls, Paul Giamatti (played by Paul Giamatti), is in the middle of rehearsals for the Chekhov play ?Uncle Vanya? in which he plays the angst-ridden title character. Giamatti is so caught up in the role that he?s experiencing unpleasant physical symptoms in real life. His director points him to an article in the New Yorker about ?soul storage?, a technology that allows you to temporarily remove and store your soul, if, for whatever reason, it?s weighing you down. Giamatti scoffs at first, but eventually looks into it.

The soul storage facility he chooses (from the many listed in the yellow pages) is clean and white and very modern looking. It?s not long before he?s strapped into a cross between a space pod and an MRI machine for the soul extraction procedure. He has the option of donning special glasses to look inside his soul as it?s removed, but is afraid it?ll be empty so he refuses.

Souls are extracted into cylindrical glass containers covered with white zippered sheaths. Most are small grayish lumps, about the size of a charcoal briquette. Giamatti?s, it turns out, is a chickpea.

Though the procedure leaves him feeling ?lighter? and removes his negative feelings, it also removes his positive feelings, rendering him unable to feel much of anything at all. His wife immediately notices the difference, telling him he smells funny and feels ?scaly?. His ?Uncle Vanya? becomes way too upbeat. Afraid he?s going to lose both his wife and his job, Giamatti opts for a temporary soul transplant, choosing a donor soul from a Russian poet.

Problem comes when he?s finished the play and wants his own soul back. Though he?s locked it away safely in a cold storage facility, when he tries to retrieve it, he discovers it?s missing. Turns out that a Russian ?soul mule? named Nina has ?borrowed? Giamatti?s soul to transplant into her boss? wife, an aspiring actress who?d requested the soul of Al Pacino. This leads Giamatti and Nina to St. Petersburg on a soul-searching mission (heh heh) to try to get his little chickpea back.

I?ve been a Paul Giamatti fan since American Splendor, and find his shlumpy-whiny-intellectual persona to be funny even before he opens his mouth. Giamatti has angst-ridden exasperation down cold and is perfectly cast as a man desperately trying to correct the ultimate customer-service nightmare.

I?ve also always been intrigued by the concept of souls, and loved the movie?s depiction of them as tangible objects. The extraction procedure, the little lumps in the vials, the idea of being able to choose a new soul from a catalog, the concept of soul residue building up after multiple transplants ? all very captivating notions.

Which isn?t to say that I believe that I personally have a soul of either the religious or spiritual sort. As a Catholic school kid, I pictured my soul as a big glowing translucent oval that lived in my abdomen, but as I grew up, it became clear that I have no "soul" or "core" or any of those other things that make people feel connected to the world and help them do Pilates. If my soul was extracted, there?d be nothing in the vial at all. Not even a chickpea.

Maybe that?s why I found this movie so engaging. The premise is fascinating all by itself, regardless of the script and the acting, which happen to be excellent as well. It?s the sort of film that makes me put my thumbs in the air like I just don?t care. Both of them.

I might think twice before the next time I eat hummus, though. But then again, I never did care much for soul food.