THE ROSES Review: Olivia Colman and Benedict Cumberbatch in a Hilarious Tale of Marital Disharmony

Moments into The Roses, screenwriter Tony McNamara (The Great, Poor Things, The Favourite) and Jay Roach’s (Trumbo, Meet the Parents, the Austin Powers trilogy) remake of The War of the Roses, Danny DeVito’s 1989 masterpiece of marital disharmony, the titular characters, Ivy (Olivia Colman) and Theo Rose (Benedict Cumberbatch), exchange witheringly caustic barbs aimed squarely at each other while their shocked, soon-to-be-ex-therapist gasps in amazement. 

 

The newly bewildered therapist declares their marriage null and void, the outcome of almost decades of accreted resentments, but neither Theo nor Ivy accept either her diagnosis or her prognosis, briefly turning their vitriol towards their now ex-therapist. It’s an error in judgment that foreshadows the long, not quite meandering descent of their once happy marriage into a literal life-or-death battle as The Roses, both the film and the title characters, rush headlong, not to mention feet-first, toward a preordained, if no less bitterly hilarious, conclusion.

 

When we first meet Theo and Ivy, they’re at professional and personal crossroads. An unrecognized genius in his own mind, finds himself frustrated at the petty corner-cutting of the London-based architectural firm that signs his biweekly paychecks. Ivy, a sous chef, talented, but initially lacking ambition, dreams of moving to the United States and opening a restaurant. 

 

Literally minutes after meeting in a restaurant’s kitchen, they’ve not only given into their lust for each other, they’re planning their getaway to an overly idealized, romantic America, the “land of opportunity” where hard work and a little luck can lead to material comfort, social mobility, and respect beyond their wildest imaginations. 

 

Before long, the Roses have firmly ensconced themselves in Mendocino, California (actually Devon, England) where, parents to American-born, preteen twins, Theo’s fulfillment as an architect seems just a museum design away and Ivy, more a house mom than a restauranteur, opens a seemingly low-rent seafood eatery, “We’ve Got Crabs!”.  

 

All’s well, of course, until it isn’t. As a “storm of the century” sweeps through Mendocino, leaving devastation in its wake, Theo takes a near fatal hit while Ivy, inadvertently leveraging a storm surge into a fantastic review by a noted food critic, becomes not just the toast of Mendocino, but of California and later, North America. As Theo struggles to overcome professional disappointment, loss as a high-status male, and an afterthought in Ivy’s life, Ivy barely notices, enjoying the perks of professional success, up to and including magazine covers/profiles, meetings with potential backers and other restauranteurs, and everything in between.

 

As with DeVito’s standout adaptation and Warren Adler’s 1981 source novel, the irreversible corrosion in Theo and Ivy’s marriage ultimately manifests itself in a battle over the high-end, modern, seaside home Theo designed for the family and Ivy, who’s personal wealth funded Theo’s dream house. It’s less a material object, of course, than a symptom of their “irreconcilable differences,” of two decades worth of bitterness, disappointment, and resentment (mostly, but not exclusively Theo’s). 

 

To McNamara’s considerable credit, audiences aren’t expected to side with either Theo or Ivy, at least not for too long. Both are partially right; both are partially wrong, but neither has the self-awareness nor the commitment to see beyond their grievances, however well-founded, to consider the potential validity of the other’s point of view. Long on selfishness, entitlement, and egotism, they lack the one virtue, empathy, that could save their marriage and ultimately, themselves. 

 

Considerably softer edged than DeVito’s 1989 adaptation, giving Theo and Ivy the possibility of redemption (if not redemption itself), The Roses delivers nonstop, sharp-tongued, acerbic humor, usually at Theo or Ivy’s expense (often both) and the two cringe-worthy, dysfunctional couples, Amy (Kate McKinnon) and Barry (Andy Samberg), Sally (Zoë Chao) and Rory (Jamie Demetriou), Theo and Ivy consider nominal friends. Unsurprisingly given that The Roses begins and ends as a black comedy, the other couples don't just represent different levels of toxicity, they’re also life-sized caricatures straddling the thin line between the real world and an imaginary one. 

 

They’re also ripe, of course, for comedic exploitation by Roach's relatively sure hand. Roach contributes smoothly competent, if anonymous, direction here. He also leverages the cast's eccentricities into delivering distinctly in-tune performances. Amy flirts openly with a perpetually perplexed Theo while Barry adopts willful ignorance as a mode of short-term survival. Sally and Rory can be particularly vicious, lack social graces, empty the contents of their minds without pause or concern, and yet somehow insult each other without the wit or banter of their British counterparts. 

 

Above all, though, The Roses succeeds or fails based on two factors, McNamara’s screenplay, specifically the richly inventive, incisive dialogue he gives the title characters and, of course, Cumberbatch and Colman’s performances as Theo and Ivy, respectively. They’re instantly believable as flawed, complex characters who choose love, romance, and marriage in rapid-fire succession and yet, when that marriage teeters at the edge of failure for years, deliberately ignore the obvious fault-lines, repeatedly choosing the status quo (inertia) rather than doing the hard, necessary work needed to save their marriage before its irrevocable collapse.