The appeal of The Thursday Murder Club, Netflix’s rendition of Richard Osman’s 2020 novel, is subtle but resilient. Three individuals, for whom the label *senior citizens* feels too formal, gather weekly in the communal area of Coopers Chase, a comfortable, upscale retirement community, to investigate cold cases. While examining the chilling 1973 stabbing death of a young woman, they become diverted by a homicide within their own village: a Coopers Chase landlord, known for his unsavory business ties, is discovered deceased. Pleased to have new, nearby subject matter, the determined collective embarks on a quest to ascertain the perpetrator and their motive. Among the potential culprits are a shifty opportunist with a financial stake in Coopers Chase, a formidable mobster believed to be deceased, and even the child of one of their own group members.
The storyline of The Thursday Murder Club unfolds with a gentle progression, akin to wind chimes softly swaying. This is the kind of film enjoyed less for its intricate mystery and more for the delight of seeing a cast enjoy themselves within a picturesque English countryside backdrop, featuring cheerful, manicured gardens and graveyards with old and new headstones. The director, , is perhaps most recognized for *Home Alone* and its follow-up *Home Alone 2: Lost in New York*, alongside *Mrs. Doubtfire* and two Harry Potter films. He is a filmmaker synonymous with “Fun!”, and indeed, there’s ample exuberance present: at one juncture, The Trammps’ “Disco Inferno” plays, overtly suggesting that these individuals, over sixty, are far from ready for their final rest. This message arguably does not require such overt emphasis.
Nonetheless, The Thursday Murder Club possesses such a pleasant disposition and visual splendor that criticizing it feels somewhat ill-mannered. Experienced cinematographer Don Burgess imparts a luminous, pearlescent quality to the visuals. The magnificent (though lamentably fictitious) Coopers Chase is in reality a renovated convent located near Kent, simultaneously imposing and inviting, where llamas—indeed, llamas—serenely graze its sprawling lawns. (For the movie, Englefield Estate in Berkshire serves as a substitute for this opulent facility.) It offers a superb backdrop for the film’s ensemble to interact: Ben Kingsley portrays Ibrahim, a polite psychologist consistently dressed in a suit; Pierce Brosnan is Ron, a former labor activist adept at rallying crowds; Celia Imrie embodies the endearing, gentle, cake-baking Joyce, a recent Coopers Chase arrival still establishing herself within the group, whose nursing expertise ultimately proves indispensable.
David Tennant embodies a shrewd, unprincipled antagonist. Richard E. Grant makes a brief appearance, wielding large gardening shears. Naomi Ackie, a brilliant actress recently seen in *,* but even more remarkable in the underappreciated 2022 biopic *,* portrays a rookie police officer whose colleagues dismiss her until the Thursday Murder Club members offer her an opportunity to demonstrate her capabilities.
Outstanding among them is Elizabeth, the group’s principal, whose previous occupation renders her uniquely skilled at extracting details from elusive, dodging individuals—for those unfamiliar with Osman’s novel or its subsequent installments, it’s preferable for her past to be revealed during the film. Mirren approaches the narrative with an appropriate level of gravity. She embodies Elizabeth with sharp competence and is also adorned in the finest costumes. During one scene, Elizabeth adopts a disguise reminiscent of the film for which Mirren earned an Oscar, Stephen Frears’ 2006 *:* observing her in a robust tartan skirt and Hermès headscarf evokes a pleasant sense of déjà vu, though Elizabeth’s regular attire, such as a glen-plaid blazer paired with chic two-tone loafers, is even more appealing.
A primary strength of The Thursday Murder Club is that it avoids portraying individuals as merely past versions of themselves. While they are retired, their past careers remain integral to their identities—our professional endeavors contribute to our fundamental being. The narrative also acknowledges individuals who may not possess the same physical or mental faculties as the four main characters. Elizabeth’s spouse, an accomplished historian portrayed by , is experiencing the onset of dementia. He experiences periods of lucidity and decline, which Elizabeth navigates with resilience. For a factual portrayal of living with and caring for someone with dementia, this film is not it—nor does it aspire to be. Instead, it offers a subtle, yet clear, recognition that growing old presents its challenges. This provides even greater incentive to embrace each day—not merely Thursday—as an opportunity for exploration.