Lost Souls film review

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LOST SOULS

When Satan and his hordes ascend from Hades - to find a mortal bride or slay a messianic child - they invariably head straight for New York.

In Lost Souls, waif-like Winona Ryder spearheads the forces of good. She plays Maya Larkin, a Sunday school teacher forever changed since exorcist Father Lareaux (John Hurt) rescued her possessed soul from the Devil. Lareaux believes the anti-Christ will again walk the Earth and enlists Maya's help to track down likely hosts for the Horned One.

A numerical code from a possessed serial killer (John Diehl) leads her to best-selling true crime author Peter Kelson (Ben Chaplin). She tells the writer that, on his 33rd birthday, he will be reborn as the Devil, which he disbelieves until freakish occurrences and vivid dreams convince him otherwise.

Oscar-winning cinematographer Janusz Kaminski makes his directorial debut with this formulaic claptrap.

Bless The Child and End Of Days trod the same ground more effectively, and here the screenplay is as colourless as the bleached photography. Logic and common-sense are given a wide berth, while the film has no fun getting to the obvious outcome.

Ryder is luminous in the pale glare of Kaminski's camera but her character seems ill-equipped to battle such evil. While she hints at the demons in Maya's past, she invests little intelligence or pluck in the character.

Meanwhile, Chaplin is unconvincing and seems remarkably sanguine considering the fate about to befall him.

Striking aesthetics paper over some cracks for an eerie and otherworldly vision of New York. So there's always plenty to engage the eye, even if the mind quickly shuts down.