Thank heavens this movie adaptation is great, or there might have been a (well-behaved) riot.
Ever since Richard Osman’s novel about genteel retirees solving murders was first published in 2020, it has been embraced with a warmth and enthusiasm normally reserved for the likes of Bake Off. And not just over here.
In America, it shot straight to no. 1 on the New York Times bestseller list, sparking a craze for ‘Cosy Crime’ and prompting Steven Spielberg and his nose for ‘event’ books (Jurassic Park, War Horse) to snap up the film rights.
The Thursday Murder Club has since sold more than 10 million copies worldwide, and spawned another three books. A fifth – The Impossible Murder – is due out on September 23.
And now we get the film of the bestseller.
For those worried that The Thursday Murder Club might be going to get some sort of ghastly Hollywood makeover, let me put your mind at ease. They haven’t messed it up
For those worried that this quintessentially English charmer might be going to get some sort of ghastly Hollywood makeover, let me put your mind at ease. They haven’t messed it up.
Gins in tins, Victoria sponges, dry humour and insults like ‘you plonker’ remain intact.
For those who’ve not yet joined the Club, the setting is a fantasy retirement village in Kent. Picture the Downton Abbey of care homes: palatial apartments, a posh ‘contemporary upscale’ restaurant and llamas frolicking on the manicured lawns.
Here, every Thursday, a gang of four friends meet in the jigsaw room to solve cold cases.
There is the bossy leader Elizabeth (Dame Helen Mirren), who has a glamorous past as a spy that she doesn’t like to talk about (but always mentions); a vain and meticulous psychiatrist called Ibrahim (an impeccable Sir Ben Kingsley); a handsome, firebrand ex-union leader called Ron (Pierce Brosnan) and new recruit Joyce (Celia Imrie), a mousy former nurse whose secret weapon is a devilishly delicious lemon drizzle cake.
Events heat up a notch when the oldsters find themselves with a real live murder case on their hands. And they are determined to stay one step ahead of the local police chief (Daniel Mays) by enlisting the inside help of an eager young constable (Naomi Ackie).
The whodunnit plot is actually pretty gripping — tickling the little grey cells without over-taxing them.
However, the real appeal of The Thursday Murder Club lies in its memorably drawn characters, who are witty, resourceful, flawed — and proof that life can begin again at 70.
This amiable, undemanding and knowing (yet never too knowing) caper is like Miss Marple meets Only Murders In The Building
You can’t imagine anyone else but Mirren in the part of Elizabeth, described in the book as ‘the sort of teacher who terrifies you all year then gets you a grade A and cries when you leave’
Whether the Thursday Murder Club franchise will achieve Potter-like success on screen remains to be seen. But the all-star whodunnit is certainly back in business
You love this world, because you want to hang out with them. As such, the movie lives and dies upon its casting. And this cast is of glittering calibre.
You simply can’t imagine anyone else but Mirren in the part of Elizabeth, described in the book as ‘the sort of teacher who terrifies you all year then gets you a grade A and cries when you leave’.
Indeed, for years, fans regularly shouted out the Prime Suspect star’s name to Osman in the street, as the one to play her.
Elsewhere, Imrie and Kingsley fit into their roles snugly as couture black leather gloves.
Jonathan Pryce provides a poignant note (never overplayed) as Elizabeth’s husband Stephen, a brilliant academic who is dealing with dementia.
And David Tennant channels something of his recent turn in Jilly Cooper’s Rivals as slippery and ruthless property developer Ian Ventham.
The one massive eyebrow raiser here is suave, California-tanned Pierce Brosnan as ‘Red Ron’: an angry, West Ham-tattooed, ex-picket line militant.
The wish to see 007 in a care home is a choice obviously dictated by global box office appeal.
Luckily, it’s a stonking piece of miscasting so laughable it’s actually enjoyable. Brosnan’s bizarre, have-a-go attempts at what, you assume, is a Cockney accent even proves endearing — a bit like his atrocious singing in Mamma Mia!
Richard Osman’s declarations that he had ‘nothing to do with’ the adaptation needn’t alarm.
Co-written by Katy Brand and Suzanne Heathcote, the script is extremely faithful to the book — main difference being that Joyce no longer narrates the story.
Hollywood director Chris Columbus, who previously brought the first Harry Potter book to big screen, proves a safe pair of hands.
Whether the Thursday Murder Club franchise will achieve Potter-like success on screen remains to be seen. But the all-star whodunnit is certainly back in business.
This amiable, undemanding and knowing (yet never too knowing) caper is like Miss Marple meets Only Murders In The Building; or a knitting circle version of Knives Out. Celebrating friendship, resilience, and the humour of aging, with just the right dash of emotion, this is feel-good murder at its finest.
You don’t need to be Sherlock Holmes to deduce that there will be a sequel.
The Thursday Murder Club is in cinemas from today.
