Richard Osman's debut novel, published in 2020, was more than a bestseller: it turned the cozy detective genre into a publishing phenomenon, offering readers the comfort of Agatha Christie-style puzzles wrapped in humor and warmth. It was smart, timely, and hugely popular, sparking a wave of sequels and famous imitators. Now, Netflix is bringing Richard's creation to the big screen with Chris Columbus at the helm and a cast packed with names like Helen Mirren, Pierce Brosnan, Ben Kingsley, and Celia Imrie.
The adaptation, while undeniably entertaining, rarely rises above the level of gentle distraction. The film is set in Coopers Chase, a retirement home that feels more like a grand English estate than a care facility. This is where four residents have formed what they call the Thursday Murder Club: Elizabeth (Helen Mirren), a former intelligence chief; Ron (Pierce Brosnan), a former union leader; Ibrahim (Ben Kingsley), a retired psychiatrist; and Joyce (Celia Imrie), a nurse with a knack for extravagant cakes. Together, they painstakingly investigate unsolved cases provided by a retired police officer, now in palliative care.
Director: Chris Columbus
Writers: Katy Brand, Suzanne Heathcote, Richard Osman
Stars: Helen Mirren, Pierce Brosnan, Ben Kingsley
Trouble arises in the form of Ian Ventham (David Tennant), the shady owner of the house, who wants to convert the grounds into luxury apartments. His plans spark rivalries with his partners Tony Curran (Geoff Bell) and Bobby Tanner (Richard E. Grant), and when violence erupts, the Thursday Murder Club suddenly finds itself embroiled in a real case. Local detectives Chris Hudson (Daniel Mays) and Donna De Freitas (Naomi Ackie) rush to investigate, but the retirees soon prove to be more cunning and brave than the police expect.
The ensemble cast is undoubtedly the film's strong suit. Helen brings authority and wit, Pierce plays Ron with boundless arrogance, Ben cements the group with his deadpan timing, and Imrie brings a sweetness that offsets the rough edges. Together, they have a chemistry that keeps the film lively, even when the mystery itself falters. Jonathan Pryce also makes his mark as Elizabeth's husband, Stephen, portraying the effects of dementia with discretion and sensitivity.
Chris Columbus directs with refinement and restraint, letting his stardom shine. The production design is sumptuous: Coopers Chase, partially filmed on the Englefield estate in Berkshire, is a picture-postcard setting, with sweeping gardens and majestic interiors. For audiences weary of grim crime dramas, the lightness and nostalgia offer a refreshing alternative. Some pointed jokes, including a nod to Mirren's history as the Queen, add playful touches.
However, beneath the glossy surface lies a frustrating lack of substance. Osman's novel kept the reader hooked with cleverly plotted twists, but the film simplifies every clue to banality. Exposition dominates the dialogue, and humor rarely appears. By the time the narrative reaches its final act, the tone leans toward the absurd, undermining the plot and making the mystery feel more like a children's matinee than an adult whodunit.
The portrayal of Coopers Chase also poses problems. The film invites viewers to root for the residents fighting redevelopment, but when the "retirement home" resembles a luxury resort, it's difficult to understand their struggle. Even its potentially risqué theme—a passing comment on assisted dying—is raised only to be discreetly ignored. What remains is a safe and predictable narrative, disguised in expensive packaging.
The Thursday Murder Club is enjoyable, entertaining, and elevated by its cast, but it never captures the wit and intrigue that made Osman's novel a sensation. It feels more like a background screening than a quintessential movie: the kind of cozy meal you enjoy with tea and biscuits, knowing it won't ask too much of you.
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