Since no one has bothered to mention it, I will.
It's become increasingly obvious that the Villains du Jour are Russians. I've lost count of the films in which Russians disrupt and destroy.
Perhaps the most bizarre use of Russian villainy is employed in Sophie Barthes' game but ultimately disappointing new indie film, "Cold Souls."
Paul Giamatti, every inch a good sport, plays a neurotic version of himself as an actor who resorts to "storing" his soul in order to conquer depression, uncertainty and overall insecurity and while in New York appearing in a downtown production of Chekhov's "Uncle Vanya."
Not surprisingly, the Russian underground appropriates Giamatti's soul (which is played by a chick pea!) and gives it to a Russian soap actress, the spoiled wife of the main soul-snatching thug.
She's under the impression that she has Al Pacino's soul - so she's atypically happy, behaving in a larky, decidely non-Russian way.
Like most indie films these days, this one sounds better on paper than it is in performance. But the evil Russians are boffo as usual.
My advice: Just say "Nyet!"