Review: ‘The Christophers’ paints an enjoyable and elusive portrait of artists connecting
2026 / Dir. Steven Soderbergh
Rating: 4/5
Watch if you like: Sir Ian Murray McKellen being a raspcallion for 100 minutes, Steven Soderbergh doing a talky British film, buying overpriced Cameo videos from has-been celebrities.
In Steven Soderbergh’s latest, The Christophers, the director deconstructs many of the heist-genre elements he popularized in the Ocean’s Eleven franchise, peeling back the layers to reach a surprisingly touching, emotional core. The true highlight here is a terrific performance from Ian McKellen as the wily artist Julian Sklar, full of hilarious monologues and witty rhetorical battles with the always-impressive Michaela Coel (I May Destroy You).
Coel plays Lori Butler, a “failed” artist who tries to make a living through art restoration but, more often than not, works at a food truck. She’s approached by her former classmate Sallie (Jessica Gunning) and her brother Barnaby (James Corden playing to his negative reputation), the semi-estranged children of Julian. Julian became famous for his paintings of his former lover, the titular Christopher, before burning out as an artist and settling for a role as basically Simon Cowell on an art competition show. Nowadays, he’s a shut-in who hasn’t painted for decades and gets by recording stupid Cameo videos.
His children want Lori to pose as Julian’s assistant under the guise of cataloging his long-sealed-off workshop, but, in reality, complete a final series of unfinished Christopher paintings before their father dies. That way, they can be “discovered” after his death and then sold for millions apiece. Who could ask for better kids?
Much of The Christophers takes place inside Sklar’s labyrinthine home (actually two interconnected flats), packed full of decor and stuff spanning multiple decades of incoherent eccentricity, including some conspicuous steampunk attire. Soderbergh films these scenes handheld, with little visual pizzazz, instead giving space to the actors, though there is constant movement from a restless McKellen, who storms through the house like a man half his age.
During an initial “interview” consisting of Julian’s rambling, bloviating thoughts, he seems like an easy “mark,” aside from Lori having to do an early pre-heist to forge the unfinished Christophers because Julian wants them shredded. Simultaneously, Julian discovers that Lori has written a savage takedown of him on her personal blog and decides to play his own game to get to the bottom of his new assistant, whom he had previously barely considered at all. After Julian unearths this revelation, The Christophers consistently resists becoming the movie you think it will be, becoming more elusive while still outwardly accessible and always fun thanks to the verbal sparring between Julian and Lori.
Cole’s Lori is less of an apparently flashy part than McKellan’s, but no less vital. Cole embues the character with both this cool, almost alien unknowability at first, before you realize the multiple layers she’s always playing as someone trying to pretend to be a normal assistant while also carrying out a job, underneath that her own secret history as a disgruntled fan of Julian’s, and whatever may be her true self is purposefully hidden. It’s this performance that cracks open many of the film’s themes of artistic influence, identity, authenticity, and lineage.
For how complex the film is, despite its simple premise and small cast, it’s impressive how thoroughly enjoyable The Christophers is, and how you can watch it on multiple levels and get something different out of it. There’s also a lot of heart and beauty to seeing these two people connect, and what comes of two struggling artists at opposite ends of their lives piercing through each other’s protective shields. I don’t often think of Steven Soderbergh films as “moving,” but I certainly found that it was, long after the final scene had faded away.