The film revolves around a forensic psychiatrist who recently discovers that all of her multiple patient figures are victims of the violent killing that has always taken place. Over time, the doctor approaches her patients and finds out about them and their past, and eventually she and her loved ones became victims of killing themselves.
Beginning as a psychiatric freak show, "6 Souls" eventually trades serial-killer intimations for backwoods bad mojo before becoming just another dimly lighted pop-up-stalker flick.
The end credits, which seem almost as long as the movie itself, dementedly thank everyone from the citizens of Pennsylvania to William Wyler, Howard Hawks and God. What an insult.
"6 Souls" is regrettably sick with that familiar disease afflicting movies of this ilk: ostentatious, hollow moodiness that spreads like an unwelcome rash.
What unholy spirit could have possessed Julianne Moore when she signed on for the sort of throwaway horror flick that would normally star unknowns and go straight to DVD?
(T)here is a nice sense of dread here, a level of suspense that slowly dissipates as the movie meanders toward the exhausting end of its one hour and forty five minute run time.
6 Souls is as boring as they come. It's a horror mystery with not a single second of suspense and a batch of uninteresting and naturally boring performances.
