The Roses is a movie at war with itself. That’s somewhat ironic considering it’s an adaptation of William Adler’s 1981 novel The War of the Roses (previously made into a much more successful film by Danny DeVito in 1989, with Michael Douglas and Kathleen Turner), but not in a good or interesting way. There are many elements of The Roses that should work better than they do, and plenty of head scratching tonal and casting decisions that undermine any sort of comedic or dramatic tension. The Roses is akin to watching talented people trying to act with both arms tied behind their backs and working from a script where every third line has been mysteriously redacted or replaced by something infantile and stupid. It’s plain to see where so much went wrong here, and the studio tinkerers only have themselves to blame for this unsatisfying mess.
Architect Theo (Benedict Cumberbatch) and chef Ivy (Olivia Colman) hit it off famously the second they lay eyes upon one another. Both serious minded, blunt, and cuttingly sarcastic people, Theo and Ivy seem made for each other. When opportunity presents itself, Theo and Ivy move from their UK home to the United States (Mendocino, California, to be exact), and begin raising a family. Theo gets a chance to work on his dream project, and Ivy is happy half-assing her way through operating a fledgling seafood restaurant that only opens a few days a week. But fate intervenes in the form of a large storm that forever alters the trajectories of their careers. Overnight, Theo becomes an unemployable pariah, while Ivy’s stock rises and she becomes the family’s sole breadwinner. Over time resentment begins to creep in, as Theo hates being the only stable parent around the house, while Ivy can’t stand her husband’s simmering jealousy towards her success. Despite their best efforts to provide concessions and meet the other on common ground, the differences become too much and the couple becomes embroiled in bitter divorce proceedings and an even pettier and crueler campaign of psychological warfare.
Everything to do with the dissolution of the marriage should be what drives The Roses, and is often what’s best remembered from the novel and previous adaptation. But in The Roses, that only amounts to the final quarter of the movie, meaning everything else here is prolonged set-up for a rushed run through of the good stuff. The problem here isn’t that The Roses is a slow burn that’s keen on showing how a once loving couple can turn into the bitterest of enemies, but rather than it’s a slow burn that leads head on into an explosion with no sense of escalation or purpose other than to end things. The meanness and cunning of the film’s final act feels like the work of one filmmaker, while everything leading up to that reeks of a script that was tinkered around with by a committee of people who wanted to make The Roses into something a lot more mainstream and commercial, but had little clue how to achieve those goals.
The screenwriter behind The Roses is Tony McNamara, best known for his award winning work on Yorgos Lanthimos’ Poor Things and The Favourite. So far, so good in that department, as McNamara knows his way around heightened cattiness, petty rivalries, and comedic cruelty. Similarly, the choice to bring Cumberbatch (who revels in a chance to be funny for a change) and Colman into the mix is an inspired one. The best thing The Roses has going for it is the lead duo’s remarkable chemistry and matched wits. Even when the material appears beneath them, Cumberbatch and Colman remain compelling presences capable of generating a giggle without breaking a sweat. They’re also surrounded by an all star cast of other comedic talents, which sounds great on paper, but in practice is a disaster that wastes everyone’s time. But more on that in a moment.
The Roses isn’t directed by McNamara or someone like Lanthimos, who could really make something this deranged sing, but instead by Jay Roach, a Hollywood veteran best known for the Meet the Parents and Austin Powers franchises. While Roach is well versed in comedy, it’s apparent from the outset that he’s not adept at this specific KIND of comedy. Far too often, Roach delivers bland, uncharacteristic direction that leans heavily on his performers to make the film work. That could work in a scenario where actors are allowed to riff and improvise their way into gags that work better than what the script provides, but The Roses is a story that’s built almost exclusively on tight pacing, emotional reasoning, and sharp dialogue. The idea of turning The Roses into another mainstream, riff-o-rama comedy from the late 90s and early 2000s is an affront to what the material stands for in the first place.
And it seems like McNamara, Cumberbatch, and Colman probably wanted that to be the case, but none of them got their wish. There’s a decided and painfully obvious effort being made with The Roses to turn the dial down on the nastiness and emotional pain and turn this into a much safer comedy that could play well in the midwest. It’s a deathly decision that causes comedic whiplash throughout. Roach infuses The Roses with running gags that add little value, weak social commentary (particularly involving the Roses’ two kids, who become hyper-competitive athletes because of their dad), and an overqualified supporting cast that doesn’t belong in the film and brings nothing interesting to the table.
Jamie Demetriou and Zoë Chao are fine, if forgettable as the Roses’ mean friends, architects who go out of their way to put down Theo’s work without even trying to be polite about it (making one wonder why the heck they would be invited to anything to begin with). Ncuti Gatwa and Sunita Mani are wasted in throwaway roles as Ivy’s most reliable employees at the restaurant, with neither being given anything to do or shine. But worst of all – and in a bit that underscores just how much this film is trying to cater to mainstream audiences – are Andy Samberg and Kate McKinnon, two performers I adore who’ve never been worse than they are here.
As Ivy and Theo’s closest friends, Samberg and McKinnon never look or act like they’re in the same universe as Cumberbatch and Colman. They’re inhabiting a completely different movie than the one everyone else is starring in. Both seem to have been given the marching orders of doing what they’re best known for in the public eye instead of tailoring their performances to fit McNamara’s material, almost as if someone at the studio thought that pros like Cumberbatch and Colman couldn’t carry a comedy on their own. Samberg looks lost and adrift for most of this, like he’s trying to find a way to strike a balance between the script and what Roach has asked him to do, while McKinnon just flat out gives up and goes into business for herself, trying to constantly say or do the strangest things possible in the hopes she’ll either break through Roach’s inscrutable mold or get fired trying. They’re bad in The Roses, but I also feel bad FOR them. There’s no making the clear mandates placed upon this project work. They’re hired guns brought into an untenable situation.
There are flashes of good storytelling that are still on display in The Roses as Roach aimlessly wobbles his way towards the climax, but even the best bits are undone by the film’s sudden snap into ultra-dark territory. There’s escalation, sure, but when things turn truly ugly, the shift feels out of character, abrupt, and unearned, like everyone just wants to be over and done with this thing. It’s especially jarring considering that the actual conclusion to this take on The Roses is going to a very bleak place that the mainstream audiences the suits are so coveting with this will be horrifically put off by where this all ends up. By the time its over, The Roses proves to be a film that won’t fully satisfy anyone who goes to see it unless their standards for a dark comedy are very low. The Roses is proof that one can have all the talent in the world at their disposal, but if those qualities that make the cast and crew great are hobbled, then no one should’ve bothered in the first place.
The Roses opens in theatres everywhere on Friday, August 29, 2025.
