Richard Osman’s best-selling novel The Thursday Murder Club was always going to be a challenge to adapt. Osman’s breezy writing, deft characterisation and cheeky contrivances roll marvellously off the page but could prove tricky to translate into a screenplay – even though the book was clearly intended to be made into a movie.
Case in point: the Netflix adaptation. Directed by Chris Columbus and written by Katy Brand and Suzanne Heathcote, the movie version is content to ride on the reputation of its source material. The Thursday Murder Club will underwhelm fans of the novel but intrigue those who haven’t read the book and don’t know what the fuss is about.
The book’s conceit is devilishly clever: four pensioners at the Coopers Chase retirement home solve cold cases to pass the time. Still warm is the blood that courses through the blue veins of former British spy Elizabeth (Helen Mirren), former union leader Ron (Pierce Brosnan) and retired psychiatrist Ibrahim (Ben Kingsley). It’s better than solving jigsaw puzzles or hanging out with the resident comfort llamas.
The original fourth member, Penny, has gone into a coma. The remaining three recruits the former nurse Joyce (Celia Imrie) into the club. Joyce is so happy at having something to do that she exults when one of the Coopers Chase developers, Tony (Geoff Bell) is killed.
The suspects include Tony’s business partner Ian (David Tennant) and an unidentified investor in the retirement home. The club gets external help from put-upon police officer Donna (Naomi Ackie), whose oafish boss Chris (Daniel Mays) is too busy piling on the kilos to take either her or the pensioners seriously.
The film’s creators are in a tearing hurry to introduce the club’s members and the set-up. Events initially gallop at a pace quite unsuited to its elderly investigators. Helen Mirren’s Elizabeth, in particular, darts about as though in a Hollywood spy thriller or one of the Fast & Furious productions.
The investigation has its moments of chuckle-worthy comedy, but nothing that approaches delight. The parade of scenes doesn’t give a sense of the glee that animates the silver-haired quartet.
There are better moments away from the criminal investigation, about the need of the elderly to be seen as useful, or even simply be seen. Jonathan Pryce and Richard E Grant have neat cameos as characters who refuse to go out quietly.
Some of the veteran actors display more energy than the indifferent writing and staging. Helen Mirren’s Elizabeth, although a bit too pat and business-like, makes for a formidable (and glam) Miss Marple.
Pierce Brosnan, fresh from his wicked turn in the series Mobland, enthusiastically plays a union leader still willing to rouse the rabble. Celia Imrie is the happiest of the lot, radiating equal eagerness about warm bodies and multi-tiered cakes.
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