Movie Review – ‘The Thursday Murder Club’ may just bore you to death

Six years ago, Rian Johnson reignited Hollywood’s love affair with the murder mystery thanks to the runaway success of Knives Out. That hit spawned a sequel (with another arriving this December), a handful of inferior copycats, and Hulu’s comedic twist on the genre, Only Murders in the Building. So it was only a matter of time before Netflix joined the party with The Thursday Murder Club. Adapted from Richard Osman’s bestselling novel, the project was first snapped up by Steven Spielberg in 2020 before landing in the hands of director Chris Columbus. With a cast led by Helen Mirren, Pierce Brosnan, and Ben Kingsley, it seems like a recipe for success — yet somehow, this cozy caper still manages to stumble.

The Thursday Murder Club wastes no time diving into the mystery. Elizabeth (Mirren), Ron (Brosnan), and Ibrahim (Kingsley) are already on the trail of a decades-old cold case — the 1970s murder of Angela Hughes. Realizing they need medical expertise, they recruit new resident Joyce (Celia Imrie), a retired nurse, to join their Scooby gang. All four live at Cooper Chase, a posh senior community where residents can spend their golden years shooting archery, painting nearly nude models, or petting llamas. It’s the kind of place anyone would kill to get into — and maybe the kind of place someone would kill to get rid of.

That someone is Ian Ventham (David Tennant), the smarmy co-owner of Cooper Chase. Facing a messy divorce, Ventham schemes to bulldoze the neighboring cemetery and sell the community to fatten his bank account. But his business partner Tony Curran (Geoff Bell) isn’t exactly on board. Soon enough, the plan goes sideways, and bodies start piling up. The unlikely sleuths team up with local detective Donna (Naomi Ackle) to untangle the increasingly bloody mess.

The real star of The Thursday Murder Club is Mirren. Playing Elizabeth, the “pushy lady with too many questions,” she commands nearly every scene and drives the group’s investigations. While her sharp-tongued outbursts from Mobland are missed, she’s still an absolute delight to watch at work. Brosnan, Kingsley, and Imrie all bring warmth and wit to their roles, but none carry the same weight on screen as Mirren does here. Still, it’s refreshing to see a major film anchored by older actors in an industry that often sidelines anyone past 60. With over 11,000 Americans turning 65 every day during this “Peak 65” moment, maybe it’s time Hollywood gives seasoned talent the spotlight they deserve. Kathy Bates’ recent turn in Matlock is proof enough that experience makes for powerful performances.

The problem isn’t the cast — it’s the story. Anyone familiar with this type of whodunit will spot most of the killers long before the big reveals. That in itself isn’t a crime (after all, most rom-coms spoil their own endings in the trailer). The bigger issue is that The Thursday Murder Club never rises above being just okay. It’s fine, but not fantastic. The script crawls along at a snail’s pace, the humor rarely lands (or maybe it’s just too dryly British for some), and the mystery never feels particularly urgent. You won’t hate it, but you probably won’t be telling your friends to stream it either — unless your grandparents ask for a recommendation.