SnoopyStyle Paul Giamatti is preparing to play Uncle Vanya on Broadway. After reading about the new soul extraction procedure, he finds Soul Storage in the phone book. Dr. Flintstein (David Strathairn) takes out his soul which looks like a chickpea. Paul struggles to connect to his work and starts fighting with his wife Claire (Emily Watson). He tries a Russian poet soul but that comes with bleak memories. When he tries to get his own soul back, he finds it has been stolen by Nina who is a smuggler of souls from Russia. Her Russian mob boss Dimitri wanted a famous actor's soul for his wannabe actress wife Sveta.Writer/director Sophie Barthes is tapping into an interesting, surreal idea that has a fair bit of Charlie Kaufman. It fails mostly by comparison. The black market for souls could have been more compelling and more surreal. The quirkiness fails to be quirky funny. It's a good idea that could have something really interesting.

spelvini Paul Giamatti as the 21stCentury Woody Allen simulacrum, turns in a typical performance as himself in this intriguing and inventive story about the metaphysical idea exploring whether we have that thing called a soul and whether or not it has any function in our day-to-day activities as we go through our petty lives.In rehearsal with Anton Chekhov's play Uncle Vanya in New York, Paul Giamatti (Paul Giamatti) becomes agitated as he identifies more and more with the character in the play he is performing in. Late one night after a talk with his agent Paul sees a story in the New Yorker about Dr. Flintstein (David Strathairn) who has developed a way to extract troublesome souls from people and store them for safe-keeping. Paul goes to the doctor and has his soul extracted and the result is amazing, unburdening the actor from all the angst he had as a result of his career and in much of his banal social life with wife and friends. But when Paul needs his soul back he discovers that a Russian black market operative named Nina (Dina Korzun) is transporting souls to the United States and that she has stolen Paul's soul and sold it to a Soap Opera actress in Russia. Paul goes to Russia to retrieve his soul but finds that the tough business of soul marketing may be more than he gambled for.Writer-director Sophie Barthes has fashioned a highly original narrative, very much like Being John Malkavich, but moving in a far more serious way to a somber downbeat ending. With sci-fi contraptions that extract souls from people to the down-to-Earth character that live a life of criminal soul-trafficking, and mafia-like bosses, the movie woks to make us believe that human souls can be physically stored, and moreover that many of them resemble pieces of fruit and vegetable, Paul's own soul looks like a Chick Pea, while another character's soul looks like a dried up grape. It's all so droll and we laugh, but are transported into a world governed by human emotions.The acting is particularly good in the movie as every actor plays well intention and basic goals. We believe that the fear Paul is feeling is real and that the threatening nature of the mafia boss in Russia as Michael Aronov confronts Paul as he requests his soul back. Giamatti plays the role straight milking the best of the ironic tone by allowing his character to react normally to the zany situations around him.The only down-side to the flick is putting the story into perspective. The irony may be lost on non-artiste types who may not know who Paul Giamatti is and his reputation as an actor. At one point when the soul merchants are discussing getting a really good soul for a cheesy soap-opera actress to use, they plan to get Al Pacino's, upon which Paul Giamatti responds with a derisive condemnation. This flick is definitely for artists, and the cold final scene may not sit well as a commentary on a chosen profession.

fustbariclation Well, the reviews made this sound fun.Apparently there is supposed to be humour in this film and some reviews suggest that it is even supposed to be clever.It's a long, grinding bore. If there is anything funny about it, then it must be for people who tell jokes to appear funny and have a sense of 'humor' - nothing to do with humour.It might help, I suppose, if you've some sort of notion that 'souls' could be real - I was expecting that it would be exposed as a silly medical/hey-wow/rip-off scam to make people think that they'd got souls. Apparently, though, this silly idea was supposed to be taken seriously.Avoid. This is compared to the 'Being John Malkovich' film - it is equally deliberate, trivial and boring - but somewhat less annoying.

napierslogs "Cold Souls" begins with possibly the best premise I have seen on film. It is fitting that screenwriter Sophie Barthes was nominated for Best First Screenplay from the Independent Spirit Awards. Paul Giamatti plays Paul Giamatti, an actor struggling with the weight of Checkov. Uncle Vanya is weighing down his soul. This is a problem afflicting most New Yorkers, but there is now a solution. A company can extract your soul and keep it in storage for you. Brilliant.The opening scenes offer some insightful humour and intelligent wit, and offers a fair number of laughs for everybody who immediately saw the comedy in the premise. David Strathairn and Giamatti have great interactions and are very funny, both together and on their own.The rest of movie, though, plays out like a dark mystery or thriller which doesn't really fit the wonderful comedic start. The main obstacle for our hero, and the thriller plot are significantly darker and melodramatic than I was expecting. Although it is titled "Cold Souls", I was hoping for less cold and more soul-fulfilling insightful humour.It is a dark comedy, so probably a must-see for fans of the genre. However, I think one of the problems with coming up with such an inventive idea, is viewers will likely form their own story line, so if it doesn't play out as you would have written it, it will seem disappointing and disjointed as it did for me. But that being said, the interest and intrigue behind this story would be too much to pass this up.