For number five in my recent Sick Day series, I watched this Black Comedy covering one of humanity’s biggest questions: What is the soul and is it really tangible? Science, Religion and Philosophy have been trying to answer this for centuries.
Paul stars as himself (the credits say his character is Paul Giamatti), a stage actor struggling as the lead in Uncle Vanya. I guess Russian plays are grueling because Paul complains to the director and his agent about how much anguish the role causes in his own life. Then he receives a voice message from his agent to check out this magazine article covering a doctor in Long Island who allegedly can remove the soul and put it into storage. Somebody they knew had a relative try it, blah blah blah, it seemed to work even if it sounds like a hoax. Paul investigates, gets tour from the founder Dr. Flintstein, a thorough explanation on how the process works and a price. Paul decides to give a shot.
Running parallel to Paul’s story is Nina’s. Nina is a Russian mule who transports various souls purchased from desperate people in need of money. According to Dr. Flintstein, a person is needed because souls are susceptible to damage at high altitudes when they’re transported by plane. She is obviously part of a mobster operation selling the (maybe) gullible Flintstein souls belonging to hard-up factory workers and claiming they’re from Russian poets, writers and artists. As for Nina, the strain of smuggling all these souls is starting to take its toll on her body, mind and spirit. The extraction process leaves residual traces. It’s like when adhesive substances are transferred to different containers. For example, pudding being scooped out from one bowl to another and then another, so on. There’s always some left behind in the previous bowl. Nina is a bowl that has had numerous batches of pudding go through her without being put in the dishwasher. Sometimes Nina re-experiences memories and emotions which aren’t clearly hers.
Back to Paul. How well did the extraction go? Initially, he’s disappointed when he sees what his soul resembles (no spoiler here) but he feels great, as if a huge burden has been removed. Then comes the side effects: his wife senses that he’s just “off,” his acting sucks and he becomes a rather callous dinner guest. Remorseful for undergoing the procedure, Paul asks Flintstein for his soul back. The doctor instead convinces him to borrow the essence of a Russian poet/author (actually a young female machinist). The substitution works even though the donor isn’t what Paul was promised, she was a Russian with a miserable life so his Uncle Vanya is incredibly spot on.
Meanwhile, Nina is ordered by her boss to fetch the soul of an American actor. The mobster’s wife is a mediocre actress needing an edge for future roles. He tells Nina to bring back DeNiro or Pacino. Since Paul is the only actor listed in Flintstein’s files, Nina steals his soul and takes it back to Russia. This is the other half which made the movie interesting yet funny. Again, not fart-laden, f-bomb-ridden Superbad humor. The subtle, thought-provoking kind.
This could easily get pretty heavy but I think Cold Souls goes further than the great episode of the The Simpsons when Bart sold his soul to Milhouse.
Paul is a skeptic, figures this is crap, discovers it works and then figures he can put it on ice as if it were a jacket. He doesn’t realize how important it is until someone steals what makes him complete. Sadly, it’s a lesson learned too late by the Russian donor he borrows from.
Do I recommend watching this? If all you’re looking for is escapism and entertainment…don’t bother, keep on browsing Netflix to score something lighter. It’s the type of film which leads to arguments with my wife. Somara is often in the former camp I said shouldn’t bother. For me, I feel that good (or great) movies should challenge, incite and foment intelligent discussions. There’s no shortage in the crap department, aka “popcorn,” a polite synonym for “terrible.”