When the curtain rose at the Toronto International Film Festival (TIFF) on September 8, 2025, for the premiere of Steven Soderbergh’s latest film, The Christophers, the absence of one of its stars was keenly felt. Sir Ian McKellen, the 86-year-old acting legend, was missing from the red carpet and the post-screening festivities, following medical advice not to fly from his home in the UK. In a pre-taped message played for the audience at the Princess of Wales Theatre, McKellen explained, “My medical advisers told me I shouldn’t fly. Better safe than sorry.” He added with a wry smile, “If you enjoy it, will you tell your friends? That’s partly what festivals are about, isn’t it?” (Variety).
McKellen’s absence did little to dampen the buzz surrounding The Christophers, a smart, twisty drama with comedic undertones that marks his meatiest role in years. According to Variety, the last time McKellen was in Toronto was back in 1999, when he was filming X-Men—a role he will reprise as Magneto in the upcoming blockbuster Avengers: Doomsday. But for now, it’s his turn as Julian Sklar, a once-acclaimed British painter with a complicated legacy, that has critics and audiences talking.
Directed by the prolific Soderbergh and written by longtime collaborator Ed Solomon, The Christophers is set almost entirely within the walls of Julian’s sprawling, art-filled London townhouse. The film’s plot kicks off when Julian’s estranged children—Sallie (Jessica Gunning) and Barnaby (James Corden)—desperate for a financial windfall, hatch a plan to get their hands on a series of Julian’s unfinished paintings, known as The Christophers. These works, hidden away since the 1990s and never seen by the public, are believed to be the last valuable pieces in their father’s possession.
To execute their scheme, the siblings enlist Lori Butler, played by the ever-brilliant Michaela Coel. Lori, a struggling art restorer and former classmate of Sallie, is uniquely qualified for the task: not only does she possess a talent for recreating the styles of great artists, but she also harbors a complicated history with Julian himself. Disguised as his new assistant, Lori is tasked with finding the paintings and, if needed, forging or finishing them so they can be sold after Julian’s death. But as The Playlist notes, neither Sallie nor Barnaby knows about Lori’s previous run-in with their father—a secret that adds another layer of intrigue to the already tense proceedings.
Julian, for his part, is no fool. He greets Lori with suspicion and, in a move that surprises her, immediately instructs her to shred the paintings that have been gathering dust in a tub on the third floor for decades. Yet as the days pass, his resolve wavers. Sentimentality, it seems, trumps his initial bravado, especially given the paintings’ connection to a former lover Julian fell for after coming out as bisexual late in life. The emotional weight of these works—and Julian’s struggle to let go—forms the film’s poignant core.
While the premise may sound like the setup for a classic art world caper, Soderbergh and Solomon use it as a jumping-off point to explore deeper themes of artistic integrity, legacy, and the moral gray areas of forgery. As The Playlist observes, the heart of The Christophers is “the tale of a man who has to find some sense of closure over the greatest love affair of his life. Whether Lori will assist him in this endeavor or scam someone who, well, might actually deserve it is deftly teased throughout the movie’s 100-minute runtime.”
The film’s tone is buoyed by sharp, witty dialogue—Solomon’s script gives McKellen “a ton of sharp one-liners he throws out like firecrackers,” while Coel’s steely performance “often deftly returns the sparks back at him.” Their chemistry, described by critics as electric, elevates what is essentially a two-hander into something much more resonant. “He’s just the loveliest soul,” Coel said of working with McKellen, adding, “He just had an upward spirit…I loved the idea of a character like Ian McKellen and me coming together and like loving each other” (Variety).
Visually, Soderbergh crafts an intimate, almost claustrophobic atmosphere. Much of the action unfolds in the confined spaces of Julian’s home, with long takes and handheld camera work that make viewers feel as though they are eavesdropping on private conversations. According to The Playlist, this approach gives the actors “a ton of much-needed breathing room,” but at times the film’s insular setting can feel suffocating—something of a double-edged sword for a story so focused on personal reckoning and buried secrets.
Not all elements of the ensemble shine equally. While Gunning and Corden deliver as the self-centered heirs, critics have noted that Corden’s character, in particular, feels “one-note” and primarily serves to bring Julian and Lori together. Still, the dynamic between McKellen’s Julian and Coel’s Lori is where the film’s magic lies. Both characters are deeply flawed—Julian is described as a “progressive” artist whose reputation was destroyed on a reality TV show and who was “canceled” before the pandemic (though the details are left ambiguous), while Lori must balance her respect for Julian with the promise of a life-changing financial reward.
For Soderbergh, The Christophers is another chapter in his ongoing battle against what he calls the “tyranny of narrative”—the idea that stories must fit into neat, conventional boxes. As The Playlist and Collider both point out, the film’s caper hook is “merely one small sliver” of a much more thematically complex work. The conclusion, in particular, is described as “curious and somber,” offering a bittersweet meditation on the nature of art and the impossibility of truly destroying what has been created.
Despite its flaws—occasional pacing issues and the limitations of its confined setting—The Christophers is being hailed as one of Soderbergh’s most unexpectedly engrossing films in years. At its heart, it’s a showcase for McKellen, who delivers “an absolutely superb performance from a legendary actor in his twilight years.” As the reviews remind us, opportunities for performances like this “happen less often than you think.”
With its blend of sharp humor, emotional depth, and a stellar cast, The Christophers stands as a testament to the enduring power of great storytelling—and to the artists, both on and off screen, who refuse to be boxed in.
