“Jonathan Demme is the American cinema’s king of amusing artifacts: blinding bric-a-brac, the junkiest of jewelry, costumes so frightening they take your breath away. Mr. Demme may joke, but he’s also capable of suggesting that the very fabric of American life may be woven of such things, and that it takes a merry and adventurous spirit to make the most of them. In addition, Mr. Demme has an unusually fine ear for musical novelty, and the sounds that waft through his films heighten the visual impression of pure, freewheeling vitality. If making these films is half as much fun as watching them, Mr. Demme must be a happy man.” NYT Critic’s Pick – Janet Maslin, The New York Times.

Getting close to the edge lately? Bumping into misfits, weirdos, the occasional psychopath? If so, you may be a character in a Jonathan Demme fantasy. But if you’re watching Demme’s pictures from a safe distance — and now it’s the delicious Mafia sendup “Married to the Mob” — you’ll thoroughly enjoy the out-of-kilter existence. After establishing an appealing sense of anarchy in his 1986 “Something Wild,” Demme has kept the oddballs rolling. As an almost-mad housewife in Mafia Heights, Long Island, Michelle Pfeiffer is delicately riotous. Dean Stockwell, as the dangerous, lusty Tony “The Tiger” Russo, pumps his character-acting for all it’s worth. And the avian-featured Matthew Modine puts an endearing twitch into Mike Downey, the FBI agent who’s eavesdropping on Tony and associates.  – Desson Howe, Washington Post

“Demme isn’t aghast at kitsch, or even superior to it; actually, he’s its purely loving archivist and he matches Kristi Zea’s zestful production designs, setup for setup, with song after song (the contribution of Gary Goetzman and Sharon Boyle), from an original score by longtime collaborator David Byrne.” Sheia Benson, Los Angeles Times

“High-spirited and hilarious, Mob supplies that special kick you get from movie comedy when laughter bubbles over into bliss.” – Peter Travers, People

It’s easy to see why the idiosyncratic Demme, chronicler of postmodern Americana, was attracted to this offbeat social satire by Barry Strugatz and Mark R. Burns. The notion of a station wagon Mafia brings out the nimble farceur in Demme, not to mention the interior decorator. He’s set the movie in fantasy locations, like the Fontainebleu bridal suite and the Chickin’ Lickin’ eatery. And Russo relaxes at a spaghetti restaurant with a Camelot decor and a piano bar. “Hey, it’s Tony the Tiger, the paisano the sun always shines on-a,” sings the tunesmith. There’s also reggae, Italian pop and a musical score by David Byrne of Demme’s documentary “Stop Making Sense.” – Rita Kempley, Washington Post

“A film that could have settled for being a masterclass in technique, but instead goes deeper, exploring questions of artistry, authorship, legacy.” NPR

“Had The Christophers just been a cross-generational punch-up, the sort of flinty showdown designed to throw off pleasurable sparks, you’d still walk away content. It remains a conduit for two of the best performances you’ll see all year.” – David Fear, Rolling Stone

“The Christophers is largely a comedy, but it’s also about all that we gain and lose with age, and about how we sometimes need young people to bring us back to ourselves.” – Stephanie Zacharek, TIME

“Having lost the inspiration that guided him to greatness, Julian is an artist who can no longer paint, and Lori is an artist who has lost all confidence in there being a place for her work in the larger world. For all the undercurrents about fame, commodification, and reputation that flow through The Christophers, at its core is a more plaintive lament about what it feels like to love something that doesn’t love you back.” – Alison Willmore, Vulture

“Go see The Christophers. Show up, and support a tiny, talky experiment that has no relationship to IP or sequels or box-office projection. It’s not a perfect movie, but it’s also never, as Lori grudgingly notes about Julian’s work, uninteresting. And in this cultural moment, that’s an authentic win.” – Elizabeth Weitzman, Time Out

“The Christophers is a work of criticism that deftly distinguishes different approaches to criticism.” ­– Justin Chang, The New Yorker 

“Brims with hilarious dialogue, lightly satirical observations of a culture that treats art as a commodity, and satisfying payoffs to a number of story elements planted early on.” – Seth Katz, Slant Magazine

“In the end, this film about artists becomes a work of art in its own right. The more you look at it, the more its many components reveal themselves to you.” – Chase Hutchinson, The Wrap

“Ian McKellen plays Julian Sklar, a sardonic art legend who meets his intellectual match in frank preservationist Lori Butler (Michaela Coel). In a test of wits and wills held mostly in a single-setting, Soderbergh pushes both characters to return to their former passions through philosophical conversations that reflect his own career.” – Robert Daniels, Screen International

“It bats about ideas pertaining to art, commerce, ownership and legacy with dexterous aplomb and boasts two equally superb leads who make the material crackle.” – David Rooney, The Hollywood Reporter

“The Christophers is a talky, at times incredibly funny, comedy drama with plot reversals that make it feel like it’s on the verge of a thriller. It doesn’t end up there, at least not strictly, but it’s unpredictable enough to never make us entirely sure just where it’s heading.” – Benjamin Lee, Guardian

“There’s no room for anything shy of genius in The Christophers, a crackling original drama about artistic legacy in all its facets, directed by Steven Soderbergh , from a script by Ed Solomon (No Sudden Move) and starring two top-notch English actors of wildly different backgrounds and styles, Ian McKellen and Michaela Coel, at the top of their respective games.” – Peter Debruge, Variety

“With Ian McKellen in superbly crotchety form and Michaela Coel exuding chilly cunning, it’s further proof that Soderbergh remains one of American Cinema’s most inimitable, and adventurous, auteurs. – Nick Schager, The Daily Beast