In 2013, filmmaker Steven Soderbergh declared that he was retiring. Fans were aghast, but citing the “absolutely horrible” treatment of directors, and claiming that “films don’t matter” any longer, he said he was going to concentrate on being a full-time painter. It’s difficult not to see some of this type of haughty, self-loathing behavior in the central character of the definitely-not-retired Soderbergh’s The Christophers which is, remarkably, his third film of 2025. Moving from full retirement to the production of several long-gestating works is a central plot point, and only makes the pleasures found in appreciating the metatextual connections to the director’s artistic life deeper.
The Christophers revolves around reclusive artist Julian Sklar, played with exquisite wit and care by Ian McKellen. If the film was nothing but simply a showcase of his immense talent to prance around half-naked in a robe, shouting out insults and melancholically raging about his diminishing abilities, it certainly would be enough. But there is also a plot, which centers on Sklar’s gormless children wishing to amplify an inheritance of which they’ve mostly been left out. A series of Sklar’s unfinished paintings are to be surreptitiously completed by an expert restorer using the brushes and paints from Sklar’s studio, essentially creating new works worth millions that could be pocketed by the kids.
These cartoonishly evil kids, Barnaby and Sallie, are played by James Corden and Jessica Gunning, and their delightfully vapid machinations provide The Christophers with some of its broadest comedic moments. The restorer in question, sent in under the guise of being Sklar’s new assistant, is Lori Butler, played with a quiet grace and intense stare by Michaela Coel. As McKellen throws his tantrums, she watches with bright eyes and pursed mouth—the gaze of an acute observer. It’s a difficult balance, to appear silently active rather than passive during these bouts of abuse from the elderly artist.
There’s little in screenwriter Ed Solomon’s blockbuster filmography that would lead one to believe he’d have a delicious little chamber piece in him, but gifted writers can surprise at any stage of their careers. Still, the jump from the likes of Bill And Ted’s Excellent Adventure, Men In Black, and Now You See Me to this far more intimate drama does feel unexpected. Yet what ties all those projects together are exceptionally realized characters in extreme circumstances, their wit and humanity shining through no matter what is transpiring around them.
It’s that continued feature that makes The Christophers like one of Solomon’s larger pieces stripped down to its foundational elements, minimizing the space and the stakes, and focusing on a quartet as their various modes of manipulation interweave. Soderbergh, along with his long-time cinematographer “Peter Andrews” (a.k.a., Steven Soderbergh himself), captures the Camden Town locale with an almost documentary-like aesthetic—one amplified by a design team that’s filled Sklar’s side-by-side townhomes with a symphony of detritus. It sings of untold stories of the past, with everything from the scratches on the front door, the crowded attic, and the layers upon layers of brushstrokes on the studio walls making the setting feel entirely lived-in. The film takes advantage of being set in this single location, the nooks and crannies of the studio resonating with unearthed memories, the crooked lines of the cluttered shelves as angular as the banter between the artist and his assistant/forger.
That playfulness is balanced and complicated by the profound sadness behind Sklar’s irascibility. The Christophers is an old man’s film, to be sure, but the notions of loss and regret are shared in deeply empathetic ways by Lori’s own journey. Their shattered confidences echo on another, and while the broken pieces can’t be fully reformed into something new and beautiful, kintsugi-like, much can be gleaned from simply refusing to suffer in silence alone.
The Christophers lacks the bombast of many of Solomon’s other projects; it’s a slightly small film even for Soderbergh. Yet there are grander ideas at play than might at first appear at first blush, and the excellent casting of McKellen elevates any momentary veer towards cliché into something approaching the epic. Arty, accessible, profound, and profane, The Christophers reminds audiences of what a gifted storyteller Soderbergh can be, and how his threats to quit are to be dismissed as nothing more than the passing tempers of an artist looking for a bit of attention—one deflecting from the ever-increasing challenge of remaining relevant. But he need not have worried; The Christophers proves Soderbergh has plenty of paint still waiting to be placed on the canvas.
Director: Steven Soderbergh
Writer: Ed Solomon
Starring: Ian McKellen, Michaela Coel, Jessica Gunning, James Corden
Release Date: September 7, 2025 (TIFF)
