Lost Souls (2000)
Review by: Erin Page
WHAT IT’S ABOUT: A man is confronted by a secretive sect of renegade Catholics who inform him that he will soon become a vessel for the Antichrist.
REVIEW: Put on your helmet, strap yourself in, and get ready to go nowhere in a hurry! I rarely condemn a film outright solely due to poor pacing. After a few marathons of ’70s giallo films, you eventually become numb to the fact that nothing is really happening, and you just sort of let your eyes glaze over while waiting for the technicolor violence. I don’t mind a movie that relies exclusively on atmosphere to lure you along, in fact I tend to absurdly enjoy that sort of shit. So bear in mind, when I start off a review by warning that it’s going to be a wee bit tedious, try to gauge that appropriately. Rest assured, this film is not without scares. As the credits roll, we are brutally accosted by the words “Producer: Meg Ryan.”
I’m terrified already.
As the leisurely tale unfolds, we meet Maya — chain-smoking, crazy-eyed Winona Ryder — the one-time host of Satan incarnate, thankfully exorcised and now working as an assistant to Father Lareaux. She’s twitchy, manic, and devoted to his cause — namely, helping to track down and exorcise Beelzebub from other poor bedeviled New Yorkers. Who knew “part-time, assistant exorcist” paid the bills? While decoding the nonsensical scribblings of a mental patient who Maya believes to be in direct contact with Satan, she discovers that THE ANTICHRIST will rise in a matter of days, within the mortal body of a non-believer.
A bland, pasty non-believer.
Yes, it’s poor Ben Chaplin! The man who’s résumé dictates he must be wantonly crapped upon in every movie in which he stars! Here, he is author Peter Kelson, an investigative journalist famous for penning novels about serial killers. Spicy! Maya and her tiny band of well-meaning lunatic Catholics descend on poor Peter, informing him in the most aggressive manner possible that he’s going to BECOME THE ANTICHRIST by Wednesday night. Nothing puts a man at ease like being scared shitless by total strangers. Yet when all is said and done, they make a pretty pair. Peter is a mild idiot and, despite being a crazed doomsayer, Maya is attractive. Eventually, she is able to persuade him to believe her tale of impending, inescapable horror. The pair embarks on a desperate quest to avert the inevitable, following a trail of clues through New York City and uncovering dark secrets, long buried…
I’d say you’re fairly fucked, pal.
This film had a lot of strikes against it, number one being that it simply crawls. The second strike is that Lost Souls was unfortunately due to be released the same month as End of Days and Stigmata — both similarly-themed, end-of-the-world movies. It was shelved and eventually brought to theaters on THE SAME DAMNED DAY as the re-release of The Exorcist. Talk about bad timing. Sucks to be you, Ben Chaplin!
So, what’s strike number three? If you find yourself renting this flick, you may be asking yourself the same question. You may find yourself in the middle of watching the movie, still wondering when the other shoe is going to drop. You may discover you’ve only a few minutes left in the film and nothing whatsoever (aside from the infernal sluggish pacing) has gone drastically wrong. WELL, GET READY FOR IT, BECAUSE HERE IT COMES. Yes, the third and ultimately biggest strike against this movie comes in the very last scene.
Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.
There’s no way around it. Though I’m loathe to ruin any movie, no matter how bad, I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention that the ending of this flick is guaranteed to get a strong reaction. What reaction that is is entirely dependent upon how much you’ve enjoyed the film up until that point — and frankly, how much of a masochist you are. Is it unforgivable or simply bad? Is it completely out of left field? Perhaps you will be able to count yourself among the very (very, very) few who viewed Lost Souls’ final chapter as something positive — unique and unexpected.
As for this reviewer, I’m stuck somewhere in the middle. I appreciate what they were trying to accomplish with this flick, but I’m enough of a realist to see that certain parts failed miserably. The grainy, bleak look of the film is mildly stylish, though at times egregiously monotonous. Enough with the damned rain already! We get it! It’s moody! The performances were decent across the board. It’s always fun to see fine actors like John Hurt and Elias Koteas popping up out of the clear blue, only to be viciously knocked back, like a game of cameo Whack-a-Mole.
Everything aside, it is quite eerie.
If you’re unnerved by demonic possession, there are plenty of scenes that will get your blood running colder. I admit to finding myself more than a little creeped out, huddled on the sofa. There’s nothing here that is anywhere nearly as frightening or halfway as decent as The Exorcist, but if you view it more as trying to emulate that great film, you can’t really fault it for trying.
ON A SCALE OF 1-10: Creepy and atmospheric, but WTF THAT ENDING. 5.
