Versatility is a characteristic not found in many modern day actors of the stage and screen. Johnny Depp will always be the one portraying a pasty-skinned eccentric, Seth Rogen will likely never stop taking bong hits or cracking wiener jokes, and Gene Hackman is forever trapped in the role of the hard-headed, by-the-book authority figure. This however, is not the fate of Paul Giamatti. Rather he's playing an Italian boxing trainer from New Jersey, a disheveled middle school English teacher, or John Adams, he plays every character with presence, believability, and unparalleled distinctiveness. When discussing the movie Doubt, I examined the importance for actors to have their own brand, especially when doing films that are focused on a central character, and praised Philip Seymour Hoffman for having the ability to make every role his own. The same can be said for Paul. Just as every band has that "certain sound" that makes them easily identifiable, and every visual artist's work has a unique aesthetic that they've developed, every role Paul Giamatti plays has his stamp of creativity on it. This truth endures for his 2009 movie Cold Souls, which examines the existence of the soul, and puts a satirical spin on the idea of trafficking the soul, as if it were any other bodily organ.
Cold Souls is a 2009 film featuring Paul Giamatti, Emily Watson, and David Strathairn (who depicted Edward R. Murrow in Good Night and Good Luck, the centerpiece of my last post). It was directed by Sophie Barthes, who's only notable film credit is attributed to this film. The movie flew largely under the radar, not generating much buzz in Hollywood and only mild buzz at film festivals and in cinematic circles; I myself had only heard of it after watching an interview with Paul Giamatti on Conan, in which he referenced it in passing.
Paul Giamatti plays himself; or rather, a slightly more unkempt, less-famous version of himself. He is an actor who has begin having difficulty separating himself from the characters he plays. His dedication to his craft has caused an entanglement that bleeds through into his real life, and this emotional disarray and confusion begins taking a serious effect on his well-being. A solution presents itself, however, when his agent tells him of a company that provides a service that physically removes your soul from your body and places it in cold storage for you. Paul decides to go ahead and have his soul removed, only later to find out that while being soulless removes some of the emotional burden and baggage that one is sometimes bogged down with, it also strips you of many of your fundamental characteristics. He no longer feels exhausted and weighed down, but he now has trouble connecting to his characters and with his wife. After returning to the agency to discuss remedies to the solution and possibly have his soul re-instated, he learns that soul removal is a huge underground, worldwide industry that receives no regulation, and uses "mules" to transport souls over international borders, similar to how drugs and organs are transported on the black market. Paul is told that because of a mishap with one of their mules, his soul has gone missing, but he can instead be inhabited with the soul of another donor, which he eventually opts for. After being impregnated with the soul of a Russian poet, he rediscovers his connection to his craft, and also starts to feel connected to the original donor of the soul that now inhabits him. After deciding he'll never feel right again until he has his own soul back, he travels to Russia to reacquire it, which he eventually is successful at, and after re-associating himself with it he returns to New York a happy man.
Though this abbreviated plot synopsis is surely leaving you with a raised eyebrow at the very least, know that the overall aesthetic of the movie isn't as strange as I've made it sound. Once you've become accustomed to the notion that souls are just as easily removed from your body as a kidney stone, you'll be hooked right into the story with ease. Barthes did a magnificent job of taking an unusual concept and presenting it in a way that made it seem normal, while still retaining the artistry of the presentation. It is most comparable to Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind or Being John Malkovich, where a believable story and accessible characters are based around a far-fetched idea. Imagine Woody Allen and Andy Kaufman had a lovechild, and that child made a movie. The movie would probably be Cold Souls. Though the film is bizarre and satirical, it raises valid questions; what is the nature of the soul? Can we live without one? Are we really as unique as we think we are? If nothing else, watch it for all the argyle sweaters.