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SPOILER ALERT: This story contains spoilers from Season 1 of “Big Mistakes,” now streaming on Netflix.

Dan Levy knows exactly what keeps him up at night, as the possibility of being blackmailed into committing crimes has haunted him for years. So naturally, he made a TV show about it.

Six years after “Schitt’s Creek” wrapped, Levy has returned to television with “Big Mistakes,” a darkly comic crime thriller he co-created with Rachel Sennott. The show follows Nicky (Levy) and Morgan Dardano (Taylor Ortega), a pastor-and-teacher sibling duo from New Jersey who stumble into organized crime after Morgan steals a necklace from a postal store to bury with their dying grandmother. What follows is a season-long descent into grave robbing, drug running and enough accessory-to-murder charges to keep the Dardano family lawyer very busy. However, the deeper they sink, the better they get. “The worse they were, the better they got at their jobs,” Levy tells Variety. “And the more they were needed.”

The chaos is matched only by the cast assembled to deliver it. Laurie Metcalf plays Linda, the siblings’ mother and accidental mayoral candidate, whose parallel bid for local office manages to feel just as high-stakes as the organized crime subplot. Abby Quinn rounds out the family as Natalie, the well-behaved sister who got the good genes — and Elizabeth Perkins delivers a season-ending shocker as Annette, whose reveal as the crime boss orchestrating everything is the kind of twist that sends viewers immediately back to Episode 1 to uncover what they missed.

Levy spoke with Variety about building his follow-up to “Schitt’s Creek,” the very pre-planned criminal path ahead and what a potential second season might look like for two siblings who are now, definitively, in too deep.

You’ve spoken about taking a real break after “Schitt’s Creek” before developing this. What was the creative kernel that got you moving?

You really have to sit with the question of what excites you. We were lucky enough to get 80 episodes of “Schitt’s Creek,” and I knew how much I loved working on it — I wanted that same love for whatever I did next. I never go into something assuming it’s just going to be one season, so I needed to find an idea that would excite me enough to keep telling the story. I just kept thinking about being blackmailed into crime. It scares the shit out of me; I would not do well if I ever found myself in that situation. And at its core, a random person finding themselves blackmailed into crime is just endlessly entertaining. I wanted a buddy comedy, a brother-sister dynamic, a whole new family story — and I knew I wanted a female perspective on Morgan. I called up Rachel Sennott, who I just assumed would also not fare very well in the face of organized crime. She said yes, we spent six, eight months figuring out the show, brought it into Netflix, and they loved it. And that was it.

You’re clearly a fan of Rachel Sennott’s. Any chance we’d ever see you on her show “I Love L.A.”?

I don’t even know what I would play on that show.

Anything — anything would be believable. 

If she ever wants to write me in, just say the word. I’ll do it.

Why was the family dynamic so important to carry over from “Schitt’s Creek”?

I just think family dynamics are the funniest. Families in times of insane crisis — that can be the funniest times. I’m often laughing in times of insane crisis, so I’m endlessly fascinated by it. I think it’s also just a really excellent way of revealing character. So I knew I wanted to make another family show. And that’s also why I wanted to involve Rachel, because I love her comedy, I admire her comedy, but it’s a little bit different than mine. Our voices overlap, but they’re also very different. So I wanted to really push the possibility of what the tone of this show could be. Between the two of us, we found this really nice place of chaos and comedy and suspense. I do think there has to be some comedic thread to the way that I write. I just love dialogue.

The show balances the crime world against something as comparatively mundane as a local mayoral race — and somehow both feel equally high-stakes. How did you connect that?

This is a family that has inherited anxiety from their mother’s mother. You see Nona pass away in the first episode — that’s sort of where it all stemmed from. She was nuts, and it’s all trickled down through the family tree. A lot of this show is an examination of what we inherit from our family, from our parents, from their parents. We are a byproduct of our family tree. So anxiety runs rampant in this family. Not handling stress runs rampant in this family. Linda running for mayor, and Natalie helping her — that is the be-all, end-all for them. There is nothing more important, and the stakes are high. And I just found there to be a lot of comedy in that as well. The more seriously people take things, the funnier it is.

Nicky and Morgan keep failing upward — the worse they are, the more indispensable they become. Was that dynamic intentional?

As much as they wanted to get out, it’s like an undertow. The more you swim towards shore, the more you’re pulled out. The worse they were, the better they got at their jobs, and the more they were needed. And then by the end, they are fully in.

You mentioned you already know how the entire series ends. How mapped out is this world?

There is a very pre-planned criminal path that has already been laid out. We just need the opportunity to get there.

You’ve talked about circumstance shaping character — how does the crime world change Nicky and Morgan specifically?

I love the idea that circumstance makes people better. On “Schitt’s Creek,” moving to a small town made that family a better family. In the same way, I hope that parts of this world will make Morgan and Nicky more fully realized versions of themselves. For Morgan, she’s always been a rebellious person. She’s always wanted the spotlight, always wanted attention — and I think she’s getting it in this world. There’s a part of her that really enjoys it and gets thrills out of it. For Nicky, he’s not there yet. But my hope is that at some point it’ll force him out of his shell a little more, give him more confidence, make him feel a little more accomplished.

The season-ending reveal — Annette as the crime boss — is a big swing. When did you and Rachel decide that was where the story was going?

Rachel and I knew from the start of developing this season.

I didn’t see that coming. Were there signs that I missed?

I think if you were to go back and watch knowing how it ends, there are signs. Annette is a very savvy businesswoman, and when you operate in organized crime, you need to get your fingers in a lot of political pots. As soon as the tide turned on the election, she knew exactly who was going to be at the forefront of that race, and that’s when certain things shifted and she came on board. My hope is always that if someone chose to rewatch, there would be a lot there for them — we did weave in a lot of little hints. But I mean — your in-laws being a huge crime boss.

What does Season 2 for Morgan and Nicky look like then?

A Season 2 would just be: There’s no way out now.

That kind of negates my point that Nicky and Morgan kept succeeding due to their own charisma. In actuality they survive because Annette says so, and because of Morgan’s relationship to her son. Does Max know any of this?

She needs to keep him happy. Morgan and their dynamic, their relationship, is a great way of keeping her son happy. She can’t mess that up. And also — Nicky and Morgan know too much now. So even if they wanted to leave, they have a lot to answer for.

So Max has no idea.

[Levy shrugs]

This interview has been edited and condensed.

“The Christophers,” the story of a past-his-prime painter (Ian McKellen) and the mysterious assistant (Michaela Coel) he hires to destroy some priceless works of his half-finished art, defies easy categorization. It’s funny and sad, veering between a crime thriller and a character drama, as it examines the precarious nature of talent. Why, it asks, do some artists lose their creative spark?

“We didn’t really think about genre,” says Steven Soderbergh, the film’s director. “Human behavior was our compass. Our characters’ evolution as people determined the film’s trajectory.”

Soderbergh is scrunched next to Ed Solomon, the writer of “The Christophers,” at a comically small desk at the Warren Street Hotel in Manhattan. The two have worked together previously on the noir thriller “No Sudden Move” and the twisty mysteries “Mosaic” and “Full Circle.” It’s the day before “The Christophers,” their latest collaboration, opens in limited release on April 10, and the men are finishing off the promotional rounds for the low-budget indie.

It’s a press tour that courted controversy after Soderbergh, one of the most candid and thoughtful A-list directors in Hollywood, was open about using AI on an upcoming documentary about John Lennon and talked about its creative possibilities. His remarks sparked a torrent of criticism on social media, where some commentators faulted him for embracing technology that could kill jobs in the entertainment industry.

But Soderbergh is never one to shy away from a debate. In our discussion, he doubled down on his views about AI’s potential, while also talking about his working relationship with Solomon, the artistic anxieties that “The Christophers” explores and the “Star Wars” project he was forced to abandon.

Who came up with the idea for “The Christophers”?

Steven Soderbergh: It started with a one-sentence pitch to Ed over drinks. Basically it was, there’s an older artist at the end of his career, and a young apprentice-type rolls up, and there’s something not on the level about her presence. In my mind, she was more of a Tom Ripley character. Ed immediately started filling that idea out. He was like: “What if there are children? What if there’s some issue about the value of the estate?” Over time he shoved these deeper themes of mentorship, insecurity and ego into it. It really became about asking the question, what is a legacy?

Ed Solomon: I hadn’t even planned to write something. It emerged after I asked, what are you thinking about? And then we just started throwing stuff around. I drew on the emotional relationships I’d had with quite a few different artists — directors, writers, comedians — and how fame could turn into a prison for them. But sometimes there are things that enter from the subconscious. Like two weeks ago, I turned to Steven and said, “Oh my God, my mom’s a painter!” It’s funny how sometimes you don’t realize what you’re writing about.

Julian, the character that Ian McKellen plays, was a major painter who squandered his talent after becoming a reality show judge. Have you seen people who achieved at a very high level and then lost their creative way?

Soderbergh: That’s the terror for every creative person. I call it the slackening. It’s night sweat material for me. I’m very interested in the lives of artists. How can somebody maintain their output right up to the end? What is it about their personality that enabled them to keep their level high? And why does the opposite happen? What makes someone incapable of sustaining that quality? Nobody wants to be described as an artist whose stuff fell off. But also, how do you determine that? Sometimes critics are wrong. Sometimes your work showed up too soon, and you were ahead of the audience. I focus on what I can control, which is the method of making things. I set up circumstances and environments with trusted collaborators that allow for the alchemy that creates good stuff to take place. All I can do is bring the ingredients together in a pot. That’s the best chance you’ve got of making something that tastes good.

Last year, you released the spy thriller “Black Bag.” It had two big stars in Cate Blanchett and Michael Fassbender. Critics loved it, but it struggled at the box office. Did its commercial failure make you recalibrate anything about how you choose projects?

Soderbergh: Well, yeah. It made me realize I need to find material that I like and that has a shot of reaching a sizable audience. “The Christophers” is a very accessible movie, but it’s not going to turn into “Weapons,” right? But going forward, I want to find something that has scale, because it’s been a while since I’ve made a movie of real size, and has a hook that gets people to go to the theaters in big numbers. I want to find something that I can event-ize, that I also love.

Ed, your previous collaborations with Steven, like “No Sudden Move” and “Full Circle,” were intricately plotted. “The Christophers” feels more like a chamber piece where two razor-sharp characters circle each other, often jousting verbally. Do you find it easier to work out the plot of the film or to write the dialogue?

Solomon: When it works best, everything is intertwined and coming together at the same time. What I’m interested in is finding truthful moments that are surprising. To do that, I have to constantly go back to the question, what would actually happen here, and what would this character say or do that feels truthful and not stock? That requires getting into the emotional space of a person. Once I feel what they’re feeling, I know where they need to go. When I get too plot-oriented, characters start to become little more than chess pieces you’re moving around. That’s a problem with how they teach screenwriting. More and more, they teach it as a structural event. Now, there is an inherent structure in movies. You need a beginning, a middle and an end. But the more time I spend doing this, the more I go back to the most basic questions, why is this person here? What do they want? And what’s the truth of the situation?

Ian McKellen is so wonderful in this film — he’s vibrant and larger-than-life, but also vulnerable and insecure. He had a terrible accident in 2024 and injured himself falling off the stage. Do you think that experience influenced his performance?

Soderbergh: I didn’t see any lingering physical manifestation from the fall. But it’s a type of event that anybody would be affected by. There’s a sense of precarity that it must conjure up.

Solomon: Before we started filming, there was this moment when Ian said, “I don’t know what I would do if I weren’t acting.” We were talking about how meaning and purpose get funneled through a creative person’s work. He didn’t say anything explicitly about the fall, but he did admit how scared he would be if he couldn’t perform any longer. I’m guessing that an accident like that puts everything in stark relief and that the feelings he was having were, in some way, related to the character of Julian. They both were asking, “Who am I if I don’t have my art?”

Steven, what made you think of Michaela Coel for this film?

Soderbergh: I was just blown away by her show, “I May Destroy You.” It was an entirely new thing. She’s a thoroughbred. She’s got all the tools. It’s kind of ridiculous how talented she is.

I’ve seen the movie twice. The first time, Julian’s children (James Corden, Jessica Gunning) seemed like miserable, greedy wretches. The second time, I felt a lot of sympathy for them. They obviously had no love growing up.

Soderbergh: In the film, Julian glibly dismisses their upbringing. It is indicative of what they experienced. As a child, you’re wired to seek the approval of your parents and at no stage of their lives were they given any approbation or affection from him. And that corrodes you. They’re feral because nobody taught them to be different.

Solomon: My heart breaks for them in a strange way. At the same time, we didn’t want to do the typical, let’s resolve that relationship thing, because we also wanted it to stay honest. We wanted the changes these characters experience to be internal, and not overt and tectonic.

Soderbergh: The same thing is true with Julian. He hasn’t changed much by the end of the film. He’s only come to a place where his behavior has changed around Michaela’s character. He can be with her in a way that he isn’t with other people, and probably never has been. That’s as far as he’s able to go. He’s still a jerk.

Steven, congratulations on getting into Cannes with your documentary “John Lennon: The Last Interview.” Your recent comments about using AI on the film have been heavily criticized. What do you make of the debate?

Soderbergh: [Pauses] This is mystifying to me.

Are you unaware of the blowback?

Soderbergh: No, I’m aware. I found out from people looking at me like they’d seen my chest X-ray. I was like, “What’s up?” And they’re like, “These AI comments!” And they read me back what I had said, and I honestly felt, “Where’s the smoke here?”

You used AI on that film and said you are going to use it on an upcoming film about the Spanish-American War. Clearly, you see it as a useful tool?

Soderbergh: I’m just not threatened by it. I’m only scared of things I don’t understand. So I felt obligated to engage with it, to figure out what it is and what it can do. It turned out to be a very good tool for certain passages of the Lennon documentary where I needed surrealistic imagery that was impossible to shoot. It allowed me to solve a creative problem about how to visualize what John and Yoko are speaking about philosophically. Ten years ago, I would have needed to engage a visual effects house at an unbelievable cost to come up with this stuff. No longer. My job is to deliver a good movie, period. And this tool showed up at a moment when I needed it. I don’t think it’s the solution to everything, and I don’t think it’s the death of everything. We’re in the very early stages. Five years from now, we all may be going, “That was a fun phase.” We may end up not using it as much as we thought we were going to. There are some people that I have absolute love and respect for that refuse to engage with it. That’s their privilege. But I’m not built that way. You show me a new tool. I want to get my hands on it and see what’s going on.

Ed, as a writer, what do you think of AI?

Solomon: I’m not interested in using it as a writing tool because it takes away from what I love about what I do, which is the process. It makes it result-oriented. I’m not scared of it. I just don’t see myself using it in any kind of a significant creative way.

Steven, your “Star Wars” film, “The Hunt for Ben Solo,” got cancelled. What did you learn from the process of trying to get that movie made?

Soderbergh: That there’s no such thing as wasted creative time. It was great to work on that with Adam Driver and [writers] Rebecca Blunt and Scott Burns. Sometimes that’s just the way things go. I know what we came up with was good. I think it would have excited audiences. Working with smart people, trying to solve shit, is how you get better. Adam felt bad for having gotten me into it. I think he felt like he wasted my time, and I made it clear to him, “Dude, that was not wasted time.” It’s a problem solving experience that will get applied to everything I do going forward. I’m not upset. I feel positive about everything that we did together.

What movie would you recommend someone watch to get in the right frame of mind for “The Christophers”?

Soderbergh: Making this, I thought a lot about the great John Schlesinger. His film, “Sunday, Bloody Sunday,” is one of my favorites. It’s a great London film. And I was influenced by his treatment of the characters. They’re so complex and he has this willingness in his movies to allow all the various shades of people to be expressed. He never judges his characters, and that’s what we tried to do with “The Christophers.”