A pair of supporting turns make the case for Michaela Coel, movie star

In Steven Soderbergh’s The Christophers, Coel plays Lori, an artist with her own practice and a gift for forging the work of other artists. Hired by spoiled children to assist their father, a curmudgeonly artist named Julian (McKellen), she hides her artistic background to initially gain his trust. Eventually, Lori’s true intentions come to light as the pair argue whether to finish or destroy Julian’s prized paintings of a former lover.

Lori is sympathetic to Julian. She listens to him and entertains his requests up to a certain point. Then she pushes back, unwilling to be bullied past her personal boundaries. Coel and McKellen perform like a pair of ballet dancers in a pas de deux, carefully playing off of each other but also allowing the other their own space and time to shine. Their characters share a genuine sense of warmth and camaraderie, as well as impish delight when taking on the art world. Lori may be more reserved, but it’s Julian who has the most learning to do. Her questioning his decisions opens Julian up to more possibilities.  

Coel brings a different kind of intensity to David Lowery’s Mother Mary. In the film, she plays Sam, a talented fashion designer who emerged from the ashes after Mother Mary (Hathaway) burned their bridge. After a traumatic series of events, the pop star appears in Sam’s home looking for a new dress and someone who understands her. While Mother Mary fights back tears for much of the film’s runtime, Sam is much more in control, poking and prodding the performer for a confession and apology—after all, she is the one who came crawling back after casting Sam off. 

During Mother Mary’s crisis, Coel’s character is in command, almost constantly creating, tearing and cutting fabric, shaping it, and imagining her diva in dazzling costumes that come to life in dream-like sequences. She is not wholly without her own emotions; the pain of abandonment sits on her skin like an old scar, still tender after all these years. But she has moved on, and she is ready for the tearful goodbye at the end of their time together, because she’s already survived it once before. As Sam, Coel recites Lowery’s wordy prose with purpose, sometimes with an amused tone, other times hurt, and occasionally, looking to hurt Mother Mary back. “You can do it without your music,” she tells the singer, who’s offering to perform the number she needs a dress for. “Because I don’t want to hear it.” 

In both Mother Mary and The Christophers, Coel exhibits a quiet intensity, whether it’s calculated to stay in a temperamental artist’s good graces or looking to regain control after an unexpected visit. Each pair struggles over who has the upper hand, but sometimes their combative dynamic is just the warm-up, and the interactions help each other realize something in themselves. In just these two roles, Coel flexes her ability to weave complex dialogue and work with fellow actors to tell the movie’s story, all of which is a reminder that Coel’s career is just getting started. Audiences may not have to wait long to see what Coel will do in the director’s chair—she’s joining forces with A24 to remake Bloodsport—but the cinematic double header of The Christophers and Mother Mary showed movie audiences what she’s capable of in front of the camera, and that the next time she returns to the screen, it should be as the lead.