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Steven Soderbergh is a hard director to pin down. It’s not that he doesn’t have any particular style, certainly last year’s Black Bag felt a lot like the guy behind Ocean’s 11 had made a Bond movie, but it is that he so often makes films without any sense of his previous work as a filmmaker whatsoever. Erin Brockovich is incomparable to Magic Mike, as they both are to No Sudden Move or Unsane, which in turn are nothing like The Laundromat or Contagion. 

It is fitting then that with The Christophers he has made something that not only continues this trend but refuses to even be categorisable within its own parameters. It is a slick drama (which to be fair might be the closest thing there is to a consistent Soderbergh trait) but it also has elements of heist film, of a mystery, a thriller, a character piece, an art study, a satire, a twisty narrative, a surreal tale and an alternate history story. Yet it is all of these things and none of them as it slowly builds to its unexpected but satisfying conclusion. 

The plot centres around an aging artist dining out on a reputation that he utterly resents. Into his life comes a young art restorer/forger who has been charged with producing the latest works in an unfinished series of his paintings, by whatever means she can. 

The directions is both controlled and unobtrusive, and the writing precise but freewheeling (from scribe Ed Solomon who authored everything from Bill & Ted and Men in Black to Charlie’s Angels and 1993’s Super Mario Bros., but nothing with this level of sophistication). It’s success lies largely in the performances as well from Ian McKellen and Michaela Coel, she showing strong reserve opposite his flamboyant affectation. He is magnetic and her mesmerising and they are a fascinating pairing.

I’ve tried to sell its strengths but ultimately I can’t quite put my finger on quite why The Christophers is such an exceptional movie. My advice is to discover it for yourself and see if you can quantify it any better. It is definitely fun to try.