It's unclear what it takes to make a good movie about religious apocalypse, but after the onslaught of The Ninth Gate, Stigmata, End of Days, Bless the Child, and finally Lost Souls, somebody better either figure it out or quit trying. Acclaimed cinematographer and Steven Spielberg collaborator Janusz Kaminski logs his first hours as director in self-conscious, forgettable fashion. Fussy in his visual approach, Kaminski toys with the film stock and camera techniques until it has the hues and angles of a pretentious car commercial. The plastically gritty look induces wariness in no time at all. An engaging cast, including Philip Baker Hall, John Hurt, and Elias Koteas, is wasted in service of this thin, run-of-the-mill devil possession hokum. The idea of Satan is spooky enough that merely working in this milieu can spark the occasional chill, but that's mostly a physiological reflex the viewer will regret with equal parts guilt and embarrassment. Winona Ryder is particularly propped up and lifeless, while Ben Chapman, with his blinking and stammering, offers no hints of devilish incarnation upon which to build portent. He's better suited to something like The Truth About Cats and Dogs. Kaminski is surely to blame for the wooden performances, a cinematographer who "just wants to direct," but isn't really qualified. Jeers also to screenwriter Pierce Gardner, who should have intuited that a creepy set piece or two might have helped make Lost Souls marginally tolerable, if not actually worth finding.