Ocean’s and Magic Mike director Steven Soderbergh’s newest film, The Christophers, pairs the presence and intensity of Michaela Coel with theatrical darling (and undisputed national treasure) Sir Ian McKellen.
The film sets them up to spar off with one another in this compelling, if stagey, two-hander.
Coel, who recently managed to make the interpersonal drama of Mother Mary really sing for me, stars here as Lori, a rather jaded art school alum. Out of the game and struggling to find a way back into her artwork, she swaps out a (no doubt) promising career in the food truck industry for a position assisting legendary artist Julian Sklar (McKellen) whose own cynicism rivals even hers. Working out of Julian’s home studio – a towering building with a seemingly never-ending staircase, each storey littered with the relics of his troubled past – the two have a chance at finding some form of solace together. The catch? Lori’s new job is purely pretence; she’s been sent in by Sklar’s adult daughter, an old school friend, in the hope of finding (and forging) a set of hidden works, as yet unfinished by Julian: the titular Christophers.
‘I have a relationship with the canvas and when I’ve said what I’ve got to say to it, it goes.’
With that initial premise, it’s easy to chart a course for the rest of the film, especially if you’ve seen the trailers, which play up the film’s more whimsical elements. On paper, there’s little in The Christophers that’s truly surprising, but Coel and McKellen, as you’d expect, craft such a good central dynamic that the finished canvas of the film itself has an undeniable charm. Ed Solomon’s screenplay and Soderbergh’s direction work in efficient tandem, with a clear understanding of Coel and McKellen as the film’s best assets. There’s little time wasted in terms of getting the pair into the room together. Right off the bat, we see Lori meet with her co-conspirators and take on the job, and before we know it, Julian is already ushering her upstairs into his bohemian digs.
From there, the pair are given ample room to play off of each other, their rapport developing as Lori works away at her plan in the background. McKellen has felt like something of a kindly grandfather figure to us all since he first disputed his lateness as Gandalf some twenty-five years ago, but his real-world wit shines through nicely as Sklar. It’s a nuanced portrayal that really does feel like the glue holding the rest of the film together, McKellen toeing the line between both sides of that coin in a way that just makes it look easy. Sklar is undoubtedly a recluse. He’s turned away from creating new material, choosing to pay his way recording overpriced Cameos for people, giving half-hearted birthday greetings to lifelong fans, and he spares no blushes when it comes to criticising others. In spite of that, though, he crucially never feels overly spiteful or mean-spirited; just interesting to watch.
There’s a naturalistic sensibility to the story that brings your full attention to the relationship at the core of the movie, and the richness of the performances here could very well fly on stage. That strong centre brings us along for the ride rather well – at 100 minutes, the film felt aptly timed, any longer and it might have dragged on – but there does seem to be a certain sense of optimism and whimsy apparent in the movie’s marketing that’s missing in the final film, even with all the charm of its leads. I appreciated how detailed that relationship was – it felt as though it was chugging along quite nicely – but when the narrative reached its emotional destination, it did leave me wondering whether things ought to have moved a little faster to fit that intended vision of a resolution. As it stands, the conclusion of the film feels slightly unearned and the tried-and-tested third-act squabble feels perfunctory and ill-fitting for where the pair are at by that stretch of the film.
That being said, I do think this film earns a place for itself off of the strength of its two stars, particularly McKellen, who feels like a perfect fit in this role. He really elevates the proceedings, and I don’t know what this film would be without him – I can’t seem to imagine anyone else playing Sklar quite like he does, this sardonic Santa Claus. Boiled down to its key elements, it does feel, first and foremost, like a vehicle for McKellen to be charming and playful, but when you’ve a central star as beloved and capable as this one, who can blame Soderbergh for wanting to showcase him?
BBFC: Rated 15 for very strong language.
The Christophers is in cinemas now.
