The nature and value of the human soul is thoughtfully and humorously explored in Cold Souls.

A companion piece to the equally trippy Being John Malkovich, Cold Souls marks the debut of promising young filmmaker Sophie Barthes, who gives intelligence and wit to an eternal question: just what is the soul?

Paul Giamatti stars as a cinematic version of himself, an overtly anxious New York actor who is stuck in a prolonged panic attack which affects both his private and professional lives.

After reading an expose on the burgeoning soul extraction industry, Giamatti decides to visit leading sprit sucker Dr. Flinstein (on obvious riff on Frankenstein, played by David Stathairn), and store his soul in a plush facility filled with the souls of a variety of prominent figures.

An immediate change of personality is evident. A Chekov play – in which Giamatti stars – is skilfully used as a barometer to detect the varied personality swings which befall Giamatti, who has taken on a succession of souls in order to spice up his spiritless existence: one day he is a blubbering mess; the next nonchalant and carefree.

The possibilities of just which soul inhabits Giamatti’s body at any time are endless. Imagine, for example, the soul of Ashton Kucher in Paul Giamatti’s body? One minute, he’s explaining for the umpteenth time to fans of Sideways that he really doesn’t care about wine; the next he’s twittering about banging cougars.

The film takes a twist when Giamatti finds out his soul has been sold on the Russian black market. Enter Nina (Dina Korzun), a “soul mule” whose constant transportation of souls has brought with it an unexpected side effect, as remnants of varied souls haunt her existence and are displayed through beautifully eerie flashbacks
and dream sequences, which confirms Barthes as not only a fine story teller but a visualist as well.

Cold Souls is played out as a tragedy (and what can be more tragic then the separation of soul and body), but the obscurity of its concept sets it firmly in the comedy genre. Cue Giamatti’s hilarious expression when viewing his soul for the first time, a small yellow clump no different than a chick pea, which only adds to its miraculous nature.

Yet, perhaps the most miraculous thing of all is that a first time filmmaker has not squandered an interesting concept, as evident in Barthes skilful and patient handling of her unique material.