Soul (2020)
Directors: Pete Docter, Kemp Powers
Screenwriters: Pete Docter, Kemp Powers, Mike Jones
Starring: Jamie Foxx, Tina Fey, Graham Norton, Rachel House, Alice Braga, Richard Ayoade, Phylicia Rashad, Donnell Rawlings, Questlove, Angela Bassett
This review considers Pixar’s Soul, a film that arrived at a strange moment for many viewers who first saw it at home. Whether or not streaming release was the ideal launch, the film remains a nourishing, inventive piece of animation that rewards multiple viewings.
Jamie Foxx voices Joe Gardner, a passionate but frustrated middle-aged music teacher who longs to make jazz his full-time life. Joe’s routine life is shaken by three consequential events: his school offers him a permanent band teacher position, he gets the chance to perform with a renowned jazz musician, and then he suffers a fatal accident. He wakes up in a metaphysical system that treats life and pre-life as a highly organized bureaucracy. Determined to return to his body on Earth, Joe becomes entangled with an unruly soul (voiced by Tina Fey) he is supposed to mentor.
Soul depicts a carefully imagined afterlife and “Great Before” — a place where personalities and passions are assigned and where new souls prepare for life. The film’s tone and structure echo earlier works that explore life, death and destiny through formal, bureaucratic metaphors. The primary enforcer of cosmic rules, a character known as “Terry” and voiced by Rachel House, acts less as a villain and more as the universe’s corrective force, aiming to keep balance when mistakes occur.
Like Pete Docter’s earlier high-concept animation Inside Out, this movie asks big philosophical questions in a way that will likely resonate more with adults than young children. It confronts ideas such as: Are we born with fixed dispositions, or do we develop them? What, if anything, precedes life on Earth and follows it? Must meaning be discovered, and if so, how does one define a meaningful life? Ultimately, the film suggests that living — experiencing small, everyday moments — is itself a central answer.
The narrative is anchored by Joe’s relationship to music and teaching. The film examines whether his “spark” or sense of purpose is identical to his love of jazz, or whether his drive for recognition has obscured the quieter joys of sharing music with others. These questions are handled with warmth rather than heavy-handedness, allowing the film space to explore regret, longing and renewal.
Visually, Soul takes creative risks. It shifts between animation styles to communicate different realms and states of being. The transition from richly detailed computer-generated imagery on Earth to stylized, hand-drawn sequences in the metaphysical spaces works to distinguish mood and theme. The Great Before is rendered with surreal, imaginative visuals and populated by quirky, Picasso-like “Jerrys” who help sculpt the traits of incoming souls.
Humor and physical comedy are woven into the film, balancing its more philosophical moments. Body-swap sequences provide lively slapstick, while clever lines deliver laughs aimed at adults—small jokes that reward a mature audience without alienating younger viewers. The film opens with a bright bit of comedy when Joe’s school band bungles the fanfare, setting an early tone of affectionate irony.
Representation is an important strength of Soul. Directors Pete Docter and Kemp Powers, along with co-writer Mike Jones, ground the film in a specific African-American New York experience. The movie gives space to characters and voices too seldom seen in major animated fare, helping broaden the cultural imagination of who can take center stage in stories about art, aspiration and everyday life.
The story occasionally takes convenient shortcuts and adds heightened peril in its final act that may feel unnecessary to some viewers. It also opts for a gentler treatment of mortality than strict realism might demand. Still, these choices keep the film accessible while preserving its emotional core.
For anyone who has felt their purpose falter or wondered what makes life worth living, Soul delivers a moving reflection. It balances romantic yearning with grounded human detail, ultimately celebrating presence, curiosity and the small pleasures that shape our days. The film leaves viewers with thoughtful questions about identity and purpose—and a memorable cast of voices that includes both familiar and unexpected performers.
20/24