Mr. Church (2016)

Mr. Church is special because it takes a simple premise—a hired cook in a small, struggling home—and lets it unfold into something quietly profound, the kind of intimate, lived-in drama that sneaks up on you. Eddie Murphy gives a restrained, unexpectedly soulful performance, letting warmth and grief flicker behind a guarded exterior as the film lingers on meals, routines, and the slow trust that turns strangers into family. Bruce Beresford keeps the tone gentle and old-fashioned in the best way, more interested in sincerity and character than big twists, so the emotion feels earned instead of engineered. If you prefer sharp-edged realism or faster, plot-driven dramas, it may feel soft around the edges—but if you’re open to a heartfelt story about showing up for someone over years, it’s a rewarding watch.

Mr. Church is clearly aiming for a long-haul tearjerker about found family, grief, and the quiet ways people show up for each other, and you can feel the director reaching for old-school, comforting drama. The problem is it often leans so hard on sentiment and “inspirational” beats that the emotions can feel pre-packaged rather than earned, with writing that smooths over complexity instead of letting it sting. It may also rub you the wrong way if you’re sensitive to retro, stereotype-adjacent dynamics—Eddie Murphy’s character is frequently framed as the self-effacing caretaker whose inner life is kept conveniently vague for far too long. Still, Murphy brings warmth and restraint, and if you like gentle, PG-13 melodramas that prioritize coziness over realism, you might find it watchable; if you want sharper character work or less manipulation, this probably isn’t your film.