I saw Cold Souls last night and it feels like something that will stay with me for a while. It's not only that it's an amalgamation of all of these things that I love already- The New Yorker, elephants, Chekhov and the pathos of Russian literature, existential angst, Paul Giamatti getting flustered, plays within films, absurd jokes-it's clearly a recipe for something I would dearly enjoy, but it's so much more than the sum of it's parts. It's big, serious questions about how we should live, what we deserve or don't, what it means to be ourselves. And it's terribly sweet and sad.