The Thursday Murder Club, adapted from Richard Osman’s novel, feels like a warm cup of Earl Grey with a splash of brandy: familiar, comforting and a little more lively than its respectable appearance suggests. Four residents of Coopers Chase meet to discuss unsolved crimes. When a murder happens close to home, their hobby becomes considerably less theoretical.
The quartet makes the film. Helen Mirren’s Elizabeth combines unnerving calm with intelligence and reserve. Pierce Brosnan’s Ron is noisy but loyal, Ben Kingsley gives Ibrahim a sensitive, melancholy edge, and Celia Imrie’s Joyce provides warmth and an inviting way into the group. Their shared looks and small gestures are more persuasive than many of the plot’s larger turns.
The mystery itself is only moderately suspenseful. Convenient coincidences help the resolution along, and anyone seeking a hard-edged thriller should adjust their expectations. This is a cosy British crime story whose pleasures largely come from spending time with its characters.
Chris Columbus directs on safe, handsome ground. The residence is lovingly furnished, the images are clear, and the score supports the mood without insisting on itself. There is an appealing attention to relationships, but also a reluctance to make things uncomfortable. Ageism, loneliness and mortality are touched on without being explored very sharply. Some supporting characters simply serve the machinery and disappear.
I would have liked more bite, but I enjoyed the gentle humour, melancholy and human warmth. These people have dignity rather than being reduced to amusing elderly caricatures. The film is more charming than ingenious, and sometimes that is enough. I give it 3.5 out of 5 stars: an affectionate, well-made mystery that reaches the heart more readily than the nerves.