Steven Soderbergh, I love you man. Every movie you make I’ve usually seen versions of by other directors. But yours always stand out, because you have that special directing greatness any movie goer can’t quite describe, but you know it when you see it. Who else can call a movie The Christophers and not have either main character’s name be Christopher? Not the Russo brothers, that’s for sure.
The Christophers are supposedly these final, legendary paintings by a recluse artist Julian Sklar (Ian McKellen). His children Barnaby (James Corden) and Sallie (Jessica Gunning) are running low on trust fund money since dad has cut them off. Desperate, they call up a artist acquaintance of theirs Lori Butler (Michaela Coel). Lori’s previous work was inspired heavily by Julian, meaning, perhaps, that for a large fee, she could pose as Julian’s new butler, steal the Christophers from the attic, and forge Julian’s style so the kids can make their hefty sum.
In lesser hands, The Christophers would become a fish in the bucket indie two hander. Other than a more ornate opening and closing, all Soderbergh has to work with is two 3 flat buildings as his setting. 2 entryways, and 4 rooms that feel more like 2. Not a lot of space to work with. But that’s why he’s the master. At one point the children mention they should turn the space into a museum, as if Steven Soderbergh hadn’t already. Julian’s living situation is perfectly designed to tell us everything about him: a tortured artist carrying his past with him, but still silly enough to have a perfect Cameo setup to make some easy money on the side. Inside that setting is a cat and mouse game, with the cat and mouse changing roles in the heist. But for Soderbergh, that’s not deep enough. He instead takes the frame of a heist movie and turns in into a fascinating look into artistic inspiration. Can it come from nowhere? Does it have a shelf life? What is the buyer’s/viewer’s role in the artistic process? Soderbergh weaves that exploration into the heist narrative, as we see two long dormant creators try to make sense of themselves and the lives they find themselves in. Oh, and the art, especially at the end, looks damn impressive too, including maybe the best modern art piece I’ve seen in a movie.
Soderbergh is usually at his best when he’s invisibly making his movies better, letting his collaborators shine. With Ed Solomon, he’s found his perfect writing partnership: I can’t wait to see more of them together. Solomon’s script is dynamite in The Christophers. It leans into what makes the two leads special, and has them flexing their muscles dancing around each other in a symphony of erudite take downs and criticisms. In addition, Solomon’s heist pieces are wittily concocted as well, and come to mostly natural conclusions without resorting to stupid decision making to keep them going. I’m equally happy Ian McKellen and Michaela Coel got to work with the master too. For anyone who’s only seen Gandalf, Magneto, or Shakespeare from McKellen, The Christophers shows why everyone keeps giving him these grandiose parts. Julian Sklar has McKellen essentially playing Norma Desmond of art: a bit lost to time, but completely convinced he was the greatest at one point. Michaela Coel is a wonderful match against McKellen’s soliloquies, conveying so much with that intoxicating face of hers. She gets her narrative quips in too, but much more succinctly, cutting right through Julian’s bullsh*t. The minute McKellen is interviewing Coel when they first meet, Soderbergh knows to just have the cameras to the side and let them cook; McKellen’s dazzling narrative juxtaposing of this beautiful art as he does 3 minute Cameo videos while Coel incredulously looks on is high entertainment. And their power playing against each other is just as compelling. The more we learn, the more excited we become.
You can’t teach art. It just, is. Julian Sklar and Lori Butler know it. Ed Solomon knows it. And for sure Steven Soderbergh knows it. So much so, that I want to see Soderbergh now curate a museum wing with his sharp eye, and elevate every artist around him with the beauty of his vision. Ian McKellen can narrate.