Wes Craven is one of the great filmmakers of our time. Last House on the Left. A Nightmare on Elm Street. Scream. These are classic movies. So, My Soul to Take effectively puts forth the question: Does this acknowledged master of horror still have a few new tricks up his sleeve? The answer to that question is "No. No, he does not. And, in point of fact, he seems to have almost completely forgotten all his old tricks. Along with all skill at making an actual movie."
Almost nothing about the movie makes any sense. Here's an example. The main character's nickname is "Bug." It's a nickname and we get to hear his actual name once or twice, but he's pretty well known to all and sundry as "Bug." That said, there is no exposition (as "When he was a little kid, "Steve" would catch roaches and ants and try to eat 'em.") nor any obvious reason why this boy is known as Bug. He shows no interest in insects. He doesn't in any way resemble an insect or have any kind of insectile habits. He also has no interest in rabbits or cartoons, in case you thought that might be a reference to Bugs Bunny. But there's nothing, and the movie is filled with situations like this that defy human and narrative logic. Almost without exception, every character in the movie makes the worst or least sensible decision at any given moment.
Which is only understandable given that the writer-director of this turkey did exactly the same thing.