Ironically for an industry so clearly embarrassed by the genre that spawned enfant terribles such as Hooper and Romero, Hollywood has a long-held tradition of cannibalising itself, with every conceivable cinematic and generic theme being constantly explored, revisited, updated and rehashed. In some instances these revised texts are successful in breathing new life into a tired old formula, the most obvious example being he recent glut of horror movies to hit the screens. ‘Scream’ set the ball rolling with its particular blend of post-modern irony and prerequisite lashings of blood, but it didn’t take long for a succession of sequels and blatant rip-offs to follow this slasher into the multiplexes. It’s popularity proved a couple of things; people enjoy watching beautiful 90210-types being brutally butchered by a masked maniac (no surprises there) and that horror has some of the most loyal fans of any genre. Audiences flocked to The Blair Witch Project (itself something of an homage to ‘Deliverance’ and ’The Monster of Boggy Creek’), and ‘The Sixth Sense’ – an apparently intelligent "supernatural thriller" aimed at a more refined adult audience.

The latest offering is ‘Lost Souls’, which comes with some impressive credentials. It features Spielberg’s Oscar-winning cinematographer Janusz Kaminski in his directorial debut, and boasts a respectable cast of experienced stars and hot newcomers. According to the press release, Kaminski set about creating what he described as an ‘exploration of the struggle between belief and disbelief’ and ‘an elegant, sophisticated and very scary movie.’ On paper, this film looks as if it might have some potential.

The next shots feature some notable camerawork involving an overhead perspective that moves in to a lingering close-up, as an unidentified writer, apparently locked in a cell, painstakingly writes out some initially unintelligible notes. This photography is quite innovative, and pays exceptional attention to detail. The arrival of the exorcist group at a New York hospital for the criminally insane is also sumptuously shot, employing great use of slow motion and the highly stylised cross-processed/washed-out look used to such great effect in ‘Saving Private Ryan’. Director of photography Mauro Fiore’s lighting is excellent and within a few minutes of the outset, this film has already established itself as a technically proficient, aesthetically pleasing example of the cinematographer’s art. As has been repeatedly proved time and again, however, style does not necessarily guarantee substance.

We’re also introduced to Peter Kelson (Ben Chaplin) a successful author who specialises in writing bestsellers about true-life serial killers. In a television interview, he signifies himself as the film’s sceptic, claiming not to believe in ‘evil with a capital E’. He’s intelligent, articulate and well presented, and in direct contrast to Maya’s dowdy, ascetic look, symbolises the very essence of the modern, rational world.

Things take a distinct turn for the worse, however when Maya and her friend John Townsend (a criminally underused Elias Koteas) deduce from the coded message that Kelson is a host vessel for The Lord of Darkness himself, and that at a predetermined time, Satan will assume control of his body, free to walk the earth wreaking havoc and signalling some sort of apocalypse. Of course he will. Despite mammoth attempts at wilfully suspending disbelief, this plot development is simply too ridiculous to swallow, especially when it’s presented in such a casual context. We’re just told that this is how things are, and expected to accept it.

As the film progresses, the fragmented plot lurches from the ludicrous to the inane, as every clichéd horror convention is regurgitated for an audience held in low regard by filmmakers who should know better. Piece by piece the puzzle comes together as Kelson is forced to confront the fact that his perfect world of the rational might just be an elaborate construction to hide the awful truth behind his real purpose in life. A dastardly satanic conspiracy of epic proportions has secretly been at work, protecting him in preparation for his ‘Day of Transformation’. It rapidly becomes abundantly clear that the most terrifying thing about this film is Meg Ryan’s status as producer.

It’s a visual treat, but no amount of eye candy a can compensate for the lack of momentum or continuity, the unintentionally hilarious dialogue or the ultimately unconvincing performances of a fine cast. These factors, combined with what must surely be the least satisfying conclusion in recent years, means that for a film which promises so much, ‘Lost Souls’ delivers very little.