The Christophers Review: Elevated Comedy

Though a simpler outing from Steven Soderbergh, The Christophers delivers with its leads’ on-screen dynamic and its effectiveness as elevated comedy.

Those aforementioned leads include Ian McKellen as Julian Skar, an aging, eccentric painter, and Michaela Coel as Lori, a struggling artist who is hired by Skar’s adult children as his assistant. The children, Barnaby (James Corden, of California Schemin’) and Sallie (Jessica Gunning, of Baby Reindeer), hire Lori to help them in their scheme to make money off of Skar’s unfinished work, “The Christophers.” The premise creates an engaging push-and-pull between the two characters. By far the most electric moments of the film occur when both are on screen together. McKellen somehow brings a Shakespearean presence to the unrestrained, politically incorrect, and struggling Skar (“I’m a broken man; I believe I always have been,” he says to Lori late in the movie). Coel gives Lori a cooler, reserved presence, serving as a nice foil to Skar. The two’s rhythmic dialogue and shared screen presence act as the film’s beating heart.

Without this centerpiece, the movie falters. Things grow increasingly less interesting when McKellen and Coel are not on screen together. While Gunning and Corden do offer some humorous moments, their scenes don’t come close to reaching the ones with Coel and McKellen at the center. This doesn’t happen often, as Soderbergh knows what his film’s hook is, but still, at just 100 minutes, The Christophers dangerously inches toward boring territory when its stars aren’t present. With such a small cast, each performer is tasked with carrying the narrative and thematic weight of each scene. The two leads are up for the task; the others try their best.

The movie falls into a category I would describe as “elevated comedy.” Just like elevated horror, a genre that has produced some critically acclaimed and popular films in recent years, elevated comedy takes the trappings of the genre and uses them to ask deep, existential questions. The Christophers uses banter of its two main characters to help the audience explore aging, the struggle between art and commerce, and what truly brings value to one’s life. Scenes like McKellen giving comedic monologues while Coel looks on with a deadpan expression are paired with flashbacks of deep pain, showing that Soderbergh isn’t afraid to tackle tough subjects with this film, even if it ranks as one of his lighter works. 

Speaking of Soderbergh, what remains clear is his precision behind the camera. Filming these scenes—most of which take place in Skar’s home—in an almost documentary-like fashion provides The Christophers an air of intimacy. I was reminded of his 2025 film Presence while watching large chunks of this film. We feel trapped with these characters, for better or worse. 

The Christophers may not be the centerpiece of Soderbergh’s career, but it is an interesting addition to his filmography. Both this film and another recent release, Olivia Wilde’s The Invite, lean into elevated comedy. Despite the flaws at play in both, these types of movies feel like something audiences desperately need more of.

The Christophers is now available to watch on digital and on demand in the U.S. and will be released on digital platforms in the U.K. and Ireland on July 20, 2026.