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Showing posts with label Netflix. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Netflix. Show all posts

Why The Thursday Murder Club Made Ageing Look So Interesting

Image source: Wikipedia

I watched The Thursday Murder Club on Netflix the other night. It was star-studded – Helen Mirren, Ben Kingsley, Pierce Brosnan, Celia Imrie, David Tennant, and Tom Ellis, to name a few.

It was entertaining too; there were murders to be solved, plenty of amateur sleuthing, a retirement village full of personalities, and a group of older people who were far more capable than anyone around them initially assumed.

The biggest entertaining gem for me was how the movie portrayed ageing. Because it neither portrayed ageing merely as inevitable physical decline nor disguised ageing with inspirational messages about "staying young and not looking your age".

Instead, The Thursday Murder Club showed something I think we do not see often enough on screen: people who have aged, accumulated experience, lost things, lived through things, and are still curious about the world.

Retirement Does Not Mean You Stop Being Useful


The Thursday Murder Club consists of four retirees who spend their Thursdays looking into unsolved crimes. Joyce is a retired nurse. Elizabeth is a former intelligence operative. Ron was a trade union activist. Ibrahim is a psychiatrist.


Elizabeth understands strategy and how people behave when they are hiding something. Ibrahim understands psychology. Ron knows how to confront people and mobilise others. Joyce understands people in a quieter way. She observes, listens and often gets information precisely because people do not see her as threatening.

Their careers may have ended, but their knowledge did not disappear. I really liked that.

We tend to associate usefulness with employment. Once someone retires, there is almost an assumption that the productive part of life has ended and the remaining years are mainly about leisure, healthcare and grandchildren.

But a person who has spent forty years practising medicine, teaching children, running businesses, solving problems, caring for patients, raising families or managing difficult people does not suddenly lose all that knowledge because they no longer have a job title.

Experience does not expire at retirement.

The Characters Are Old, and That Is the Point


Another thing I appreciated was that the movie did not try to make ageing look youthful. The characters are older, and the story allows them to be older.

They talked about health concerns, grief, illness, and how time is no longer unlimited. But none of those things cancel out curiosity, humour, intelligence or purpose.

There is a common way of praising older people that sounds something like, "She is 75 but still behaves like she is 40!" It sounds complimentary, but underneath it is the assumption that being younger is still the ideal.

The Thursday Murder Club offers a much more interesting possibility:

What if seventy years of living actually makes someone more interesting?

Ageing and becoming less relevant are not the same thing.

Joyce Was Probably My Favourite


I also have to mention Joyce, and not only because we share the same name. Hahaha!

When she first joins the group, she seems like the least intimidating member of the club. She is docile, friendly, and very ordinary when compared to Elizabeth, who appears capable of organising an international espionage operation before breakfast.

But Joyce has her own kind of intelligence. As a former nurse, she understands people. She notices small things, she listens, and because she does not immediately look like the smartest or most dangerous person in the room, people underestimate her.

That actually becomes an advantage.

You know what? There is something very satisfying about watching a character whose strength comes not from being loud, dominant or obviously brilliant, but from decades of paying attention to human beings.

Perhaps This Is What Interested Me Most


Perhaps the most obvious reason for why I immensely enjoyed this movie is that I have become increasingly interested in what happens as we move through midlife and eventually into older age.

There is so much conversation about ageing from a medical perspective. We talk about disease prevention, physical decline, healthcare costs, retirement planning and longevity.

All of those things matter.

But there is another question that interests me just as much:

What happens to identity?
Who are we when the titles start disappearing, and when are we no longer the manager, the doctor, the teacher, the business owner or the person everyone calls when something needs to be solved?

The Thursday Murder Club gives a surprisingly simple answer:

You are still the person who spent decades becoming who you are.
The job may end, but the expertise remains.
Stay curious, stay relevant.

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Maybe I Was Never Watching Crime Dramas


Note: This post started with me realising that almost all my favourite shows involve traumatised people investigating murders under permanently grey skies. My AI assistant later helped me unpack the psychological patterns behind that oddly specific preference. It's slightly alarming but deeply accurate, though.


Recently, I looked at my Netflix streaming history and realised something mildly concerning about myself. Haha.


Apparently, my idea of "relaxing entertainment" involves emotionally damaged people investigating murders in foggy forests while carrying unresolved childhood trauma. Lol.


As I browsed through the list of TV series genres I enjoy, I realised that I tend to gravitate towards storylines that include some combination of the following:


- psychologically exhausted detectives

- emotionally restrained women

- brilliant but difficult personalities

- haunted families

- isolated towns

- grief disguised as supernatural horror

- intellectually sharp people quietly falling apart


The Shows That Made Me Realise This


The pattern became obvious when I looked at the titles I genuinely loved and remembered amongst the numerous series that I have watched for the past years:


Bones (currently watching)

The Mire (currently watching)

The Graveyard (waiting for Season 3)

The Chestnut Man

The Haunting of Bly Manor

The Haunting of Hill House

The Invisible Guardian

The Legacy of the Bones

Offering to the Storm

Cracow Monsters

House


Well, these titles seem unrelated because some are supernatural horror; some are crime thrillers; some are medical dramas; and some are dark folklore stories. However, emotionally speaking, they all belong to the same universe.


I Realised I'm Drawn to "Wounded Competence"


Almost every protagonist in these stories shares the same emotional structure.


They are usually intelligent, functional, and capable, but they are also deeply unhealed. Many of them appear highly composed, but underneath that competence is grief, loneliness, guilt, emotional isolation, trauma, or some form of unresolved pain that quietly shapes how they move through the world.


I think that is what keeps me watching. Not the murder mystery itself or the plot twists. It is the emotional tension of watching people continue functioning while carrying invisible weight.


The memorable series are those that refuse to simplify human pain. There are no neat emotional resolutions in these series. Trauma is rarely "fixed". Grief does not disappear after one breakthrough conversation. Relationships remain complicated. People make contradictory decisions. Healing is uneven and incomplete.


That feels more emotionally honest to me now than stories where everything becomes meaningful and resolved by the finale.



The Atmosphere Matters More Than the Plot


Another thing I noticed is that I care deeply about emotional atmosphere. The setting itself often feels like a character: cold forests, rainy towns, dim apartments, decaying family homes, muted lighting, and silence that feels emotionally loaded.


A lot of European storytelling especially seems willing to sit in discomfort without rushing to explain everything. There is less emotional spoon-feeding and less urgency to make viewers feel reassured.


And oddly enough, I find that comforting.


Even the Horror Series Are Really About Grief


This became especially obvious with The Haunting of Hill House and The Haunting of Bly Manor. Technically, these two are horror series. But the real horror is never the ghosts.


It is grief, memory, guilt, love, loss, emotional inheritance, and family wounds that follow people into adulthood. The supernatural simply gives emotional pain a physical form.


That is probably why these stories stay with me longer than conventional horror.


Even My K-Drama Choices Are Emotionally About Grief Too


The pattern became even clearer when I looked at the K-dramas I tend to gravitate towards. Yeah, you guessed it right; I don't watch rom-coms. I really don't like 'lovey-dovey-happily-ever-after' stories.


Even when the stories involve monsters, spirits, the afterlife, or supernatural worlds, the emotional core is rarely horror itself.


Instead, many of these series revolve around unresolved pain, regret, memory, emotional liminality, people unable to move on, and grief that quietly follows people through life.


Tomorrow explores despair, emotional rescue, and the invisible struggles people carry before reaching breaking point.


Missing: The Other Side centres around forgotten dead people whose stories remain unfinished, turning grief into something almost physical.


Even Gyeongseong Creature uses monsters and horror to explore survival, fear, cruelty, and what happens to humanity under extreme suffering.


At this point, I had to admit something to myself: apparently even my supernatural dramas are still emotionally about grief.


Apparently I Also Like Emotionally Difficult Geniuses


This explains my attachment to House and Bones. Both series revolve around brilliant people trying to intellectualise emotions they cannot fully process.


One hides behind logic, the other behind cynicism. Both are emotionally awkward in completely different ways. And somehow, that feels more believable than perfectly adjusted television characters with healthy communication skills and excellent emotional regulation.


Maybe I Was Never Watching Crime Dramas


Maybe I was watching stories about emotional survival. Stories about people trying to continue functioning despite grief, trauma, loneliness, obsession, guilt, or emotional exhaustion.


Not because they are heroes. But because life keeps moving whether people are emotionally ready or not.


And perhaps that is why these stories resonate more deeply with me now than simpler narratives ever could.


Not because they are dark. But because they acknowledge something quietly true:


Human beings are complicated, healing is uneven, and some people carry enormous emotional weight without ever making a spectacle of it.


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Latest Family Favourite: Netflix's KPop Demon Hunters (Soundtrack)

Photo source: Kpop Wiki

Thank you Netflix for this beautiful movie, "KPop Demon Hunters," with all its head-banging, jaw-dropping songs! My favourite song is the very inspirational "What It Sounds Like."


You need to watch the whole movie to understand the significance of "What It Sounds Like."


We broke into a million pieces, and we can't go back
But now we're seeing all the beauty in the broken glass
The scars are part of me, darkness and harmony
My voice without the lies, this is what it sounds like

Why did we cover up the colours stuck inside our head?
Get up and let the jagged edges meet the light instead
Show me what's underneath, I'll find your harmony
Fearless and undefined, this is what it sounds like

KPop Demon Hunters' full soundtrack album on Spotify


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Have You Heard Netflix's Squid Game Season 2 Song, 'Dunggulgae Dunggulgae'?

Photo source: YouTube
 

Squid Game Season 2: Mingle Song

 
In Squid Game Season 2, the "Mingle" game features a hauntingly cheerful tune titled "Round and Round" (둥글게 둥글게), a traditional Korean children's song. This melody plays during the intense "Mingle" game rounds, where contestants must quickly form groups matching a randomly announced number, with those failing to do so facing immediate elimination.

The juxtaposition of this innocent nursery rhyme with the game's deadly stakes amplifies the psychological tension, a hallmark of the series' use of music to contrast innocence with brutality. The lyrics of "Round and Round" are lighthearted, encouraging children to dance and play together, which starkly contrasts the perilous situation of the players.

This strategic use of "Round and Round" in the "Mingle" game exemplifies the show's ability to intertwine elements of innocence with high-stakes drama, enhancing the overall viewing experience.
 

"Round and Round Sing-Along"

 

 
 
Dunggulgae dunggulgae
(Round and round we go)

Jjak!
 
Dunggulgae dunggulgae
(Round and round we go)
 
Jjak!

Binggeulbinggeul dolagamyeo chumeul chupsida
(Turning, turning in a circle as we dance along)

Sonppyeogeul chimyeonseo
(Clapping our hands together)

Jjak!

Norareul bureumyeo
(Singing along as well)

Jjak!

La la la la, jeulgeoupge chumchuja
(Let's dance happily together)


Ring-a Ring-a Riiiiing-a Ring-a Ring-a Ring
Ring-a Ring-a Riiiiing-a Ring-a Ring-a Ring



Sone soneul japgo modu da hamkke
(Hold your hands together, and all together)

Jeulgeoupge ttwieo bopsida
(Let's run happily)
 

Dunggulgae dunggulgae
(Round and round we go)

Jjak!
 
Dunggulgae dunggulgae
(Round and round we go)
 
Jjak!

Binggeulbinggeul dolagamyeo chumeul chupsida
(Turning, turning in a circle as we dance along)

Sonppyeogeul chimyeonseo
(Clapping our hands together)

Jjak!

Norareul bureumyeo
(Singing along as well)

Jjak!

La la la la, jeulgeoupge chumchuja
(Let's dance happily together)



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