The casting of “The Thursday Murder Club” is a setup worthy of its own Hollywood elevator pitch: Actors known for playing Gandhi, James Bond, and DCI Jane Tennison spend their days trying to solve cold cases and keep a Doctor Who from evicting them.
Chris Columbus, who directed the first two “Harry Potter” films, brings a care for detail and love for the source material to his latest multimillion-selling literary adaptation. His cast can fill shelves with their Oscars and BAFTAs, and they are clearly having a delightful time as the beloved crime-solving quartet. Even the smaller roles are full of charm, such as David Tennant reveling in smarmdom as the odious developer trying to convert the group’s beloved home into luxury flats, and Tom Ellis (“Lucifer”) ice-dancing as a boxer turned reality show star. Richard E. Grant is more terrifying with roses than many of us could be with an arsenal at our disposal.
Helen Mirren is perfectly cast as Elizabeth, who is chary about details of her past in “international relations.” “Let’s just say I have a wide portfolio of skills,” she says. Ben Kingsley, a chameleon who has played terrifying gangsters as well as the mahatma, is gently fussy as retired psychiatrist Ibrahim.
Why We Wrote This
The film version of bestseller “The Thursday Murder Club” has arrived with a stellar cast and a backdrop that plays like Hogwarts for older adults. But how does all the sleuthing and skullduggery stack up to the book?
Pierce Brosnan joins Daniel Craig in a post-Bond career solving mysteries. He’s “Red Ron,” a rabble-rousing labor union chief who never met an underdog he wouldn’t champion. In the books, Ron’s idea of sartorial splendor includes shorts, flip-flops, and a West Ham club shirt. Here, Ron’s tattoos have been traded for flannel, denim, and an elegantly groomed beard. But Brosnan gamely torpedoes his tuxedoed history – grinning while doing aqua aerobics in a yellow floaty, along with several other visual surprises too good to spoil.
Joyce (Celia Imrie), a retired nurse with “Great British Bakeoff” level skills at cake, is the newcomer to the Coopers Chase retirement village. Joyce is the narrator in the books, and much of their humor and humanity come through the newly widowed mom’s love for novel experiences and people. Columbus throws the task to Mirren’s patrician Elizabeth. He instead saddles Joyce with a bun Miss Marple might have found old-fashioned and the decorating sense of Dolores Umbridge. The book’s Joyce plans outings to vegan cafés; the movie’s version just jokes about them.
Retirement living as designed by Columbus could be described as Hogwarts for older adults, albeit with llamas rather than hippogriffs. He builds his quartet a bountiful world at Coopers Chase, filled with friends, archery classes, and plein air painting. The converted convent is a gorgeous stone building with lush grounds, and no expense has been spared for each character’s living space. (I would very much like to sign up to live in Elizabeth’s high-ceilinged masterpiece of floor-length bookshelves and airy spaces.)
The first half of the movie is a delight. Then the body count starts rising, but no accompanying suspense builds. There’s a jump scare in a graveyard that can best be described as tedious. And the discordant notes start to pile up. It’s unfortunate that Columbus feels the need to gild the golden snitch. For instance, he adds club medallions bearing the “TMC” initials – as if his characters were 12 rather than in their 70s.
Where Richard Osman’s books get richer as they go along, uncovering the losses and secrets everyone collects along the course of a life, the movie flattens out. The beauty of the series is in the profound respect with which Osman treats his characters – including the hands-down best fictional depiction of loving someone with Alzheimer’s I have ever read. Columbus and Osman are both generous-hearted men, and some of that still comes through, particularly in the hands of Mirren and Jonathan Pryce as her beloved husband Stephen.
But the treatment of Polish handyman Bogdan Jankowski (Henry Lloyd-Hughes) and DCI Chris Hudson (Daniel Mays, doing a credible variant of his “Moonflower Murders” and “Magpie Murders” inspector) are likely to infuriate readers of the series. Both of those men have a bone-deep sense of decency and justice and are gently protective of the quartet. In the movie, Bogdan’s painful history has been all but eradicated, and Chris is just a typical put-upon DCI befuddled by amateurs. Faring better is PC Donna de Freitas (Naomi Ackie), who is tickled to leave parking tickets behind for the chance to solve a real murder.
“This is ever so exciting,” Joyce says as she and Elizabeth disembark from a bus on a recruiting errand. “I feel like we’re in one of those Sunday night dramas about two bright-eyed, feisty old lady detectives outsmarting the police at every turn. Do you feel like that?”
“No,” Elizabeth tartly replies. “And Joyce, never use the words ‘bright-eyed, feisty old ladies’ in my presence again.”
It’s a cute exchange, and Imrie and Mirren could sell tickets to a reading of a grocery list. But “The Thursday Murder Club,” despite the best efforts of its truly superlative cast, is pretty much a Sunday night detective drama – albeit one with spectacular production values.
“The Thursday Murder Club” is rated PG-13 for violent content/bloody images, strong language, and some sexual references. The film debuts on Netflix Aug. 28.
