‘The Christophers’ Ending Explained: How Julian Sklar’s Choices Alter Everything
Steven Soderbergh’s latest black comedy has sparked conversations among audiences, and it’s not just due to a dramatic twist. ‘The Christophers’ features Ian McKellen and Michaela Coel in a compelling face-off as an aging artist and the forger enlisted to finish a significant project from his past. This film has quietly emerged as one of the year’s most discussed dramas in the art world, particularly because of its impactful finale.
Directed by Soderbergh and penned by Ed Solomon, the film made its debut at the Toronto International Film Festival on September 7, 2025, before hitting limited US theaters on April 10, 2026, through Neon. With that background, let’s delve into what transpires at the conclusion of ‘The Christophers’ and why it resonates so profoundly.
Julian Sklar is portrayed as a once-renowned London painter who created two series of paintings titled ‘The Christophers’ in the 1990s, inspired by a former lover, while a third series remained unfinished for years. As time has passed, his reputation has waned, and he now primarily earns income by recording Cameo-style videos for fans.
His children, Barnaby and Sallie, described as unscrupulous, hire Lori Butler, a young artist who hasn’t exhibited in years, to act as Julian’s assistant while secretly completing the ‘Christophers’ without his knowledge, aiming to sell the paintings for a fortune after his death. Lori is not just any struggling artist; she has a reputation for forgeries that have quietly found their way into museums and sold at auctions as originals.
The plot thickens when it becomes evident that Julian was the same judge who once humiliated a nineteen-year-old Lori on a reality competition series called ‘Art Fight.’ This shared history gives Lori a genuine motive for revenge, adding depth to her decisions later in the film.
Eventually, Julian instructs Lori to shred the unfinished ‘Christophers’, but instead of destroying the authentic works, she forges duplicates of each painting and shreds the fakes in their place. This act serves as a subtle test of both her loyalty and his determination, and it doesn’t take long for Julian to catch on.
Julian, sharper than he initially appears, eventually realizes that Lori is a professional artist working for his children. Once she confesses, their relationship deepens as she demonstrates her profound understanding of his work. This shift is crucial because the film’s climax revolves around Julian burning the original sketches himself, out of spite toward the children who are circling his estate, rather than allowing anyone else to profit from them.
Despite instructing others to burn the paintings, Julian struggles to destroy them himself. The only way he finds to let go is by finishing the pieces in his unique style, layering unnatural paint, feathers, and glitter onto the canvas specifically to ensure his children cannot profit from them. This petty, humorous, and oddly touching resolution aligns perfectly with the film’s tone.
Once the physical sketches are gone, Lori recreates the paintings, transforming what began as a mercenary heist into a heartfelt tribute. Many reviews highlight that the ending deliberately avoids a typical con movie payoff, focusing instead on Julian’s refusal to let his unfinished work become a mere inheritance product and Lori’s evolution from hired imitator to a steward of his legacy.
After Julian’s death, Lori forges a letter in his name granting ownership of the paintings to his muse, who later presents the works at a public exhibition, restoring Julian’s reputation in the art world.
At that same exhibition, Lori quietly unveils her own modern art installation made from clips of Julian’s Cameo videos, a gesture that honors him while revealing the private man behind the public persona he maintained for so long.
The film concludes with Lori receiving a package from Julian’s masseuse containing an unfinished self-portrait he had been painting specifically for her, discovered posthumously. The painting is signed ‘for Lori’ on the back, leaving the precise nature of their bond intentionally ambiguous while affirming her significance in his life.
Julian does not exit the film redeemed but rather exposed, compelled to confront both his diminishing relevance and the impact he continues to have on those around him, while Lori emerges as the story’s moral compass without fitting the mold of a conventional hero. The ending ultimately suggests that art is inseparable from the individuals who create it and the scars they leave behind, with ownership in this narrative being more emotional than strictly legal.
Critics have generally framed the story as beginning with forgery and culminating in an intimate exploration of art, with the relationship between the two leads evolving into an uneasy but lasting connection rather than a tidy resolution. The title itself gains additional significance by the finale, as Christopher is revealed to be a real person who profoundly affected Julian and caused him pain, explaining why the paintings remained unfinished for so long and why his instinct was to bury them.
By the end, Julian fully acknowledges Lori’s insight into his work, and that mutual recognition is what the film has been building toward throughout. The response thus far supports this interpretation, with the film opening to unusually strong reviews anchored by the pairing of McKellen and Coel.
Between Julian’s petty final masterpiece and Lori’s quiet act of devotion, ‘The Christophers’ leaves ample room for debate over who truly wins in the end. Which character do you believe walked away with the truer legacy, Julian or Lori?