LOST SOULSNew Line Cinema

“God will forgive me. The transformation is near.”

A young, devout Catholic woman who was once on the receiving end of an exorcist (Winona Rider in perhaps her whiniest performance yet) helps out a group of the Vatican’s finest in searching for the whereabouts of the Antichrist. Yes, The Antichrist. Seems they found him, living in a posh yet tasteful loft apartment. Only he doesn’t know he’s the Antichrist. Or something. So they all walk around, find some weird stuff, walk around some more, Winona whines about some stuff, they stumble upon a cult led by the guy’s mother, and then Winona shoots Mr. Would-Be Antichrist in the head. Roll credits…

Wow, this movie sucked. I mean, it sucked. As in, sucked so hard no light could escape its surface. As in sucked the life out of my bloated soul. It sucked. You get the idea?

Listen, I wanted to like this movie. Lost Souls was slick. So much so that it was all the movie was- an exercise in needless overindulgent artsy film stylings, full of multi-angled close-ups and slow-mo, with more atmosphere than a German existentialist flick. It just plodded along, the story consisting of the characters discussing, “He’s the Antichrist!” “Wait, no, maybe he’s not the Antichrist.” “Um, he could be the Antichrist…” “No, no, he’s the Antichrist!” Gah. When I saw this movie in the theater, the room was packed. When the credits rolled after the anticlimax that was the ending, several people booed. Mind you, I was leading in with the booing. It deserved it. Pass this one up…please, I beg you…