Murder most milquetoast.

The Thursday Murder Club has a gentle sort of ambition, the kind that prefers a warm cup of tea to a stiff drink. Adapted from Richard Osman’s bestselling novel, it gathers a cast any whodunnit would kill for (recalling the star-laden Christie adaptations of the late seventies) and then ambles amiably around its own premise, seemingly pleased just to have the company. What it lacks in sharpness it makes up for in charm, though the film often feels like it’s solving for comfort rather than criminality.

Helen Mirren, Pierce Brosnan, Ben Kingsley and Celia Imrie make up the titular club of retirees who turn their idle curiosity toward an actual killing in their otherwise sedate retirement home. They’re joined by a rookie detective (Naomi Ackie) whose patience, like the pacing, wears thin in places. Director Chris Columbus keeps the tone resolutely cosy, all autumnal light and wry smiles, but never quite finds the tension beneath the politeness. The jokes land softly, the twists politely knock before entering, and the emotional beats arrive with the precision of a scheduled bus: reliable, but never surprising.

What saves The Thursday Murder Club from terminal quaintness is the sheer pleasure of watching its cast trade lines like old friends who’ve rehearsed for decades. Mirren and Brosnan especially find glimmers of melancholy beneath the script’s genteel humour, hinting at lives lived long enough to know that closure is a myth even if the film seldom dares to peer into that abyss, flinching whenever natural mortality threatens to intrude on its crossword-puzzle cosiness.

Tonally, it sits somewhere between The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel and a Sunday-night ITV mystery, never quite committing to being either. The production design leans heavily on a palette of comfortable nostalgia, while the score nudges the audience toward emotions the script hasn’t quite earned. There’s competence in abundance: good editing, clean direction, solid performances (even from Brosnan) but little that lingers once the credits roll.

The Thursday Murder Club should please fans of the novels who can bridge some of the adaptation gaps with their knowledge of the source text and maybe those craving gentle escapism, but it’s unlikely to trouble anyone’s list of classic crime capers.