Stepping into the genteel halls of the country-manor-meets-retirement-village world of The Thursday Murder Club feels like slipping into a warm cardigan on a drizzly afternoon. Directed by Chris Columbus and adapted from Richard Osman’s bestseller, the film is soothing, lightly plotted, and anchored by four performers who seem to relish every moment.
At its heart are Helen Mirren as Elizabeth, a former spy who leads the titular club; Pierce Brosnan as Ron, the aging rebel with a surprising spring in his step; Ben Kingsley as Ibrahim, the analytical thinker; and Celia Imrie as Joyce, whose genteel exterior masks a razor-sharp wit. Their chemistry turns what might have been a gentle mystery into a genuine pleasure.
Where the film excels is in atmosphere and tone. The retirement community, Coopers Chase, is a fantasy of later life: manicured lawns, warm fireplaces, and a sense of order that conceals mischief beneath the surface. The jokes are easy and affectionate, the murders more puzzling than grisly, and the whole affair glides along with the grace of a Sunday-evening comfort watch.
If there’s a weakness, it’s that the story never quite surprises. The clues are neat, the twists polite, and the resolution arrives with more satisfaction than shock. Still, the film earns points for celebrating the agency of older characters, giving them emotional depth and sharp humor rather than reducing them to stereotypes.
The Thursday Murder Club doesn’t reinvent the cozy-crime genre, but it doesn’t need to. It’s elegant, warm-spirited, and carried by actors who make even the simplest moments shimmer. For viewers seeking comfort over chaos, it’s a delight. For those craving something darker or more daring, perhaps it’s best enjoyed—like a good cup of tea—exactly as it is.
