For anyone hoping for a Red akin, ‘pensioners kicking ass’ type film prepare to be disappointed. For anyone looking for an entertaining murder mystery, a classic ‘whodunit?‘, prepare to be bored. But for anyone looking for a film to listen to as they nod off after Sunday lunch I have just the ticket.
Based on the novel of the same name by Richard Osman, the film follows a group of amateur sleuths, Elizabeth (Helen Mirren), Ron (Pierce Brosnan) and Ibrahim (Ben Kingsley), who form the Thursday Murder Club (TMC) from their retirement home, Coopers Chase. A new member, Joyce (Celia Imrie), is scouted out by Elizabeth for her medical expertise to help solve the cold case currently being examined by the group. After one of the owners of Coopers Chase is murdered, the TMC find themselves immersed in a new investigation with multiple suspects, clues and bodies.
Murder is written in the title, but this film isn’t a thriller that has you gripping the edge of your seat or turning away from the telly – hands blocking the screen. No, this is a light-hearted, cozy murder mystery. But the film fails to deliver on laughs, suspense and intriguing deaths. It doesn’t even build to a climax, just a scene where the audience is given enough detail to trigger an ending. The only mystery here is why such talented actors were attracted to the script in the first place. Interestingly, viewer reviews agree with this take, while critics actually seem to tolerate this production.
Mirren, Brosnan, Kingsley, Imrie. Hollywood heavy hitters. Legends in their craft. Actors whose presence makes us feel safe, which is why the disappointment hits harder; it feels personal. Imrie, for example, only begins to lift her character from the pages of the script once she yells in the police station and drops an F-bomb on the bus, which was one of the very few comedic moments in this film.
With the exception of Mirren and Jonathan Pryce (Pryce plays Stephen, Elizabeth’s husband) who genuinely connect on-screen, the acting in this film is mostly static and uninspired. There is minimal bona fide reacting, just over rehearsed line delivery that ignores situational context. And there is so much dialogue; 2 hours of it. Rather than being showed the plot of the film through the brilliance of modern cinematography, the audience is subjected to a never-ending commentary that over-explains every detail to the point of confusion. A second viewing is needed (though ill-advised for sanity’s sake) to pick up on all of the dropped clues, which are actually crucial to understanding what the hell is going on.
This film is categorised as a comedy as well as a murder mystery, but here the audience is once again let down. Ron is the comedic relief of the film, yet he makes very few jokes. By and large, the audience is starved of laughter. The only members of the audience still paying attention are the baby boomers (if they’re still awake) who can relate to the struggles of getting older and being cast aside by society even though they have so much to offer. Yet this band of amateur sleuths aren’t that relatable. Their retirement home, Coopers Chase, is an estate with a castle and matching grounds (it looks like it was borrowed from the set of Bridgerton). This is next level, over the top living that only the wealthiest in society could possibly afford. It’s a lovely fairytale, but completely unrealistic.
There was potential for this film to mean something to a wider audience. There are several themes at play in this story: murder, crime, aged-care challenges. Stereotyped gendered roles and sexism in the workplace are issues that are introduced into the film but never explored. PC Donna de Freitas, played by Naomi Ackie, is the sole, young, black female in an all-male, middle-aged, white police officer lineup (and while we’re on the subject, the only actor of colour to nab a main role). Her character is treated as a rookie and is given menial tasks like serving tea to ‘the boys’. This theme is briefly touched on again towards the end of the film with Penny, Elizabeth’s friend and former TMC member. Yet no more is said; no comparisons are made between de Freitas and Penny. It makes no sense to include such issues and take them nowhere.
While a cast of much beloved actors may draw viewers in, most will find themselves snoring in their favourite chair, lulled by light-hearted, fun musical scores (Harry Potter carried more suspenseful notes), waking only as the credits roll through. Or they will have a movie friend to sit beside the half-watched, never to be played again Glitter. But, unfortunately dear reader, the bad news has yet to end. I leave you with the possibility of a sequel. The Thursday Murder Club was but the first novel in Osman’s series, and Netflix has yet to confirm or deny their interest in bringing the rest of the series to life on the small screen. Let us hope for a mass-scale retirement within the crew before that project can get off the ground.
Simone L 
Annisa 
Brooke