Maggie Moore(s) (2023)

Maggie Moore(s) is the kind of offbeat crime-comedy that sneaks up on you: a deceptively simple small-town mystery with a wicked sense of timing and a desert-dry wit that keeps the tension humming without ever feeling heavy. Jon Hamm is terrific as a weary police chief trying to keep order in a place where the strangest things happen politely, and when Tina Fey enters the story, their chemistry adds a surprisingly human pulse to the intrigue. Director John Slattery gives the film a clean, confident look and a breezy pace, letting sharp dialogue and smart framing do the heavy lifting as the case gets knottier and funnier in equal measure. It won’t be for viewers who want a straight, gritty procedural, but if you enjoy quirky noir, character-driven laughs, and a mystery that’s content to be clever rather than loud, this one’s an easy recommendation.

Maggie Moore(s) wants to be a quirky desert noir: a small-town double-murder mystery with a deadpan sense of humor and a midlife-romance twist, powered by Jon Hamm’s weary-cop charm and Tina Fey’s grounded likability. The problem is it rarely commits to any one lane, so the comedy, the sleaze, and the whodunit keep stepping on each other instead of building momentum, and the characters often feel more like pieces being moved than people you can invest in. If you’re expecting a sharp, tightly plotted mystery or a genuinely biting black comedy, this may feel oddly flat and familiar, with bursts of violence and R-rated edge that don’t always earn their weight. Still, if you’re happy to coast on vibe, cast chemistry, and a mildly offbeat premise without demanding a killer payoff, it can be an easy, if uneven, watch.