Growing up, I didn’t just stumble into murder mysteries — I was practically raised on them. My mom always had the TV tuned to Murder, She Wrote, Matlock or Jake and the Fatman (a title that confused me for years as a kid). Those shows became our ritual, a way to wind down after long days. I may not have understood every plot twist back then, but I was hooked by the atmosphere — the tension of a whodunit, the quiet satisfaction when the truth finally came out and, of course, the larger-than-life detectives who always seemed to be one step ahead.

That early exposure instilled in me a love for the cozy side of crime stories. These weren’t just about grisly details or shocking violence — they were about clever puzzles, eccentric suspects and the comfort of knowing justice would eventually prevail. So, when I saw that Netflix had released The Thursday Murder Club, adapted from Richard Osman’s beloved book series, I couldn’t help but feel a nostalgic pull. It promised that same blend of wit, warmth and mystery I grew up on — just with a modern twist.

The Thursday Murder Club introduces us to a quirky band of retirees living in the same community: Ibrahim Arif (Ben Kingsley), Ron Ritchie (Pierce Brosnan), Elizabeth Best (Helen Mirren) and Joyce Meadowcroft (Celia Imrie). What started as a weekly hobby — gathering to pore over unsolved mysteries — suddenly turns serious when the group sets their sights on the unsolved murder of Angela Hughes. Their amateur sleuthing gets an unexpected boost when Constable Donna (Naomi Ackie) befriends them, giving the club a window into the official investigation. But as the case unfolds, the lines between pastime and peril blur, and the retirees discover they may have uncovered far more than they bargained for.

Director Chris Columbus has always had a knack for balancing heart with crowd-pleasing storytelling. His filmography is littered with classics that defined generations: Home Alone, Mrs. Doubtfire and, of course, the first two Harry Potter films. For the most part, though, his work has skewed toward family-friendly entertainment, the kind of movies you can watch on repeat during the holidays with the kids. With The Thursday Murder Club, Columbus shifts gears, delivering a whodunit squarely aimed at an older, more seasoned audience without losing that touch of warmth he’s famous for.

The key, of course, is the cast. Helen Mirren is magnetic as Elizabeth, exuding both sharp intelligence and a quiet authority that makes her the natural leader of the group. She doesn’t have to demand attention — she commands it simply by being present. Then there’s Pierce Brosnan, who gleefully steps away from his suave, action-hero persona to lean into broad comedy. His Ron Ritchie is brash and playful, a character that lets Brosnan show off impeccable timing and a comedic charm. Add in Ben Kingsley’s understated dignity and Celia Imrie’s subtle wit, and you’ve got a lineup of veterans who elevate every scene they’re in. Columbus clearly knows how to give his actors space to shine, and in a story like this, that makes all the difference.

While watching The Thursday Murder Club, I couldn’t help but draw immediate comparisons to Murder, She Wrote. That same comforting mix of crime and community is alive here — the sense that even though someone has met an untimely end, the real focus is on the puzzle of “how” and “why” rather than reveling in the brutality of it. Much like Jessica Fletcher stumbling into yet another body, the members of the club find themselves orbiting tragedy, but not as the intended victims.

That distinction gives the film a softer edge. Yes, there are murders and secrets, but the storytelling never wallows in gore or cruelty. Instead, it frames the case as an intellectual exercise, one where character quirks, humor and clever deduction take center stage. This approach makes the movie feel less like a grim true-crime thriller and more like a warm, nostalgic nod to the cozy mysteries of yesteryear — where danger exists, but it’s wrapped in charm and the promise that justice will be served by the final act.

The only real drawback is that the film can feel a bit drawn out, with moments that seem designed more to pad the runtime than to push the mystery forward. While the two-hour length never becomes unbearable — thanks largely to the charm of the cast — there are stretches where the story meanders, slowing down without a strong narrative reason. It creates a touch of unevenness, as if the movie can’t quite decide whether it wants to be a tightly wound whodunit or a leisurely character hangout, leaving the pacing just slightly off balance.

I give The Thursday Murder Club four out of five stars. Director Chris Columbus successfully translates Richard Osman’s mystery into a witty whodunit elevated by a stellar cast. Helen Mirren, Pierce Brosnan, Ben Kingsley and Celia Imrie bring such charm and nuance to their roles that even when the pacing wobbles, the film never loses its appeal. It’s not a flawless mystery — the story sometimes meanders — but the balance of humor, heart, and intrigue keeps it engaging all the way through.

More than anything, this movie reminded me of why I fell in love with the genre in the first place. Just like those nights spent on the couch with my mom, watching Jessica Fletcher or Matlock untangle another case, The Thursday Murder Club taps into that same sense of community, clever deduction and the comfort of knowing the good guys will win. For me, that nostalgia is worth the price of admission alone.