Soul (2020) — Riley Cross Reviews

A Night In with Joe Gardner

Look, I’ve seen it all behind the counter. I’ve seen the midnight rush for *The Ring*, and I’ve seen the lost souls trying to rent date-night romantic comedies that end with a terrible breakup in the parking lot. When *Soul* came out, the regulars were divided: half refused to rent it because they were convinced animation was "for kids," and the other half demanded to make sure we ordered the special edition with the soundtrack on vinyl. One look at the screen and they shut up. You need to be in the right headspace for this. It’s the kind of movie that dips its toes into deep philosophy about the meaning of life while also making a character cry because he wants to eat a hot dog.

It’s about a band teacher who just wants to play jazz and accidentally falls into the Great Before. He meets a soul named 22 who is determined to stay dead because humanity, in her eyes, is a messy, damp disaster. There’s a scene where she realizes what music sounds like and decides it’s worth sticking around just to hear a trumpet, which is honestly a better argument for living than I’ve ever heard. The animation captures the grittiness of the city—the constants of "living"—better than almost anything I’ve rented. It gives you permission to stop rushing and actually look at the world.

Your Environment Matters

I recommend this for those nights when you’re ready to pull the curtains. It’s best to keep it singular—no drama, no Netflix judging your binge-watching. Maybe make some comfort food or, if you're lazy like me, order way too much take-in and try to stretch it into two meals.

Find a corner on the couch, get under a heavy blanket, and dive into a world where the stakes are incredibly high but the consequence is only existential dread. It’s warm, funny, and surprisingly deep, which is surprisingly rare these days.

Bottom line: Pixar delivers the knockout punch you’ve been waiting for since *The Incredibles*.