The "World-In-Jeopardy-By-Satan" genre has gone into overplay in the last
couple years, offering viewers so many vague variations on the same subject
that it has long-since grown tiresome. Acquiring a shooting gallery of
pop-religious mumbo-jumbo, it seems present-day producers who grew up with
the spooky likes of 1968's "Rosemary's Baby" and 1973's "The Exorcist" have
no idea how to write a believable, involving story. Look no further than
1999's "Stigmata," 1999's "End of Days," and 2000's "Bless the Child" to find
pure rubbish disguised as something more stylized and intellectual.
"Lost Souls," the directorial debut of brilliant cinematographer Janusz
Kaminski (1999's "Saving Private Ryan"), is the latest entry in the "end of
the world" cinematic sweepstakes, and, surprisingly enough, it is a stylish
and purely adult psychological thriller that pays respect, rather than
tarnishes, its worlds-of-old predecessors.
Winona Ryder stars as Maya Larkin, a Catholic school teacher who has devoted
her life to religion and helping others ever since she was possessed by a
demonic spirit several years before. As the film opens, she is called upon by
Father Lereaux (John Hurt) to act as an assistant in an exorcism he plans to
perform on family-man-turned-serial-killer Henry Birdson (John Diehl).
Although they fail to save Henry, Maya does uncover a series of numbers Henry
wrote, and after carefully decoding them, discovers the name of Peter Kelson
(Ben Chaplin), who happens to be a best-selling true-crime novelist living in
Manhattan with his girlfriend (Sarah Wynter). It seems that the faithless
Peter is set to become the antichrist on his 33rd-birthday and take over the
world, even though he doesn't know it yet.
Moving at a deliberately slow pace, and free of any sort of MTV-style film
cuts or false alarm scare sequences, "Lost Souls" is a refreshing throwback
to the days when a horror film didn't have to rely on a mad slasher chasing
teenagers around a house, or a cat jumping out of a closet, in order to be
scary. That said, "Lost Souls" has its heart in the right place, but still
isn't very frightening. Disturbing? Yes. The ingenious idea of an innocent
man who gradually comes to find out that he will soon be transformed into the
antichrist is cause for several thought-provoking, evocative notions, but the
movie doesn't gain the momentum to become downright scary. In director Janusz
Kaminski's attempt at making a horror picture that is somehow "above" all the
other recent efforts, he has, perhaps, gone too far in the opposite
direction, causing this film to be too glacial to be completely touching.
At 28-years-old, Winona Ryder (1999's "Girl, Interrupted") is still the same
captivating presence that she has always been, and the ability she has to
capture the screen every time she appears is quite remarkable. Ryder is
earnest and likable as Maya Larkin, even when we, as an audience, are unsure
if she is possibly going crazy herself, and she holds the film together even
through its questionable patches. Meanwhile, Ben Chaplin (1998's "The Thin
Red Line") starts off blandly, but becomes enthralling by the final act, as a
man who can't quite believe the tragic things Maya tells him, but can't deny
that some very strange things are occurring to him, as well. All supporting
roles are filled by powerful veteran actors, none of which are given much
material to work with: John Hurt (1998's "Love and Death on Long Island") is
Father Lereaux; the incomparable Philip Baker Hall (1999's "Magnolia") is
Peter's girlfriend's religious father; and Alfre Woodard appears unbilled as
a strong-willed worker at the psychiatric ward where the possessed Henry
Birdson resides.
For the majority of its 94-minute running time, "Lost Souls" left me
wondering exactly where everything was going, and I feared it wouldn't add up
to much, joining the rest of the recent ill-fated attempts at a
religious-themed thriller. Moving slowly throughout and with few truly
astounding scenes beforehand, the ending blindsided me. Without giving it
away, what occurs is not at all what you would expect, yet it is really one
of the few honest ways to conclude the story, downbeat or not. Its final
scene is challenging and fairly equivocal, casting a whole new light on
everything that had come before. By taking his times and building to a
fateful climax, Kaminski has realized that the most riveting films are not
those with non-stop action and a scare a minute, but the ones that ask for
its audience to slowly get involved and open up their minds, in exchange for
an ultimately rewarding experience. Kaminski may not hold a firm grip on the
picture the whole way through, but he does conclude on an unexpectedly high
note that questions life, faith, and one's mortality. In other words, fans of
the recently reissued "The Exorcist" will be impressed. Fans of "Leprechaun
in the Hood" will decidedly not be.
Copyright © 2000 Dustin Putman