A modern adaptation of Warren Adler’s 1981 novel and a remake of the 1989 film The War of the Roses, Jay Roach’s The Roses arrives with a ravishingly British script that somehow finds its footing in a Northern California setting. It is a bitter, elegant, and clever comedy of manners turned marital disaster – one that fulfills the sophisticated taste buds while reminding us that civility and savagery are often two sides of the same coin. At the centre are Theo and Ivy Rose (Benedict Cumberbatch and Olivia Colman), a couple whose whirlwind passion at the beginning eventually gives way to cracks beneath the facade. Ten years in, Theo’s signature ship-shaped museum collapses, his architectural dreams in ruins, while Ivy’s modest crab joint soars after a glowing five-star review. Suddenly, Ivy is the breadwinner and Theo is left a stay-at-home father to their twin children.
The film cleverly toys with gender role reversal: Ivy once shelved her ambitions to raise their children while Theo rose in his profession. Now, as she flourishes and he flounders, Theo’s jealousy festers against her lavish new lifestyle. The couple’s repression of feelings behind a business-as-usual veneer only heightens the collapse. Cumberbatch delivers brilliance in portraying Theo’s uptight bitterness, an architect turned reluctant home-builder of children; while Colman reigns as queen of the poker face, her quick-witted snaps and perfectly delivered retorts dripping with true British sarcasm. Tony McNamara’s script brims with barbed humor, mastering the art of insulting your spouse in the most polite and sophisticated manner. Even the handful of “cunt” references land as perfectly in context – sharp, fitting, and never gratuitous. One of the highlights comes in the dinner-party scene with their American friends, a showcase of cultural clash and caustic comedy. Yet the supporting cast often feels like set dressing, despite game performances from Andy Samberg and Kate McKinnon as swinging liberals, alongside Zoe Chao, Jamie Demetriou, Ncuti Gatwa, and Sunita Mani. Allison Janney’s brief appearance as an ice-queen lawyer makes a lasting impression.
The house Theo designed – an AI-powered modernist fortress – becomes a stage for the Roses’ unraveling. Their virtual assistant, named Hal, chillingly plays a role in the finale: a gas leak from the couple’s fight + Theo’s instruction to light the fire; then turn to a fade to white. The soundtrack’s “Happy Together” both starts and bookends the film with irony. Though not as brutally dark as its 1989 predecessor, The Roses still flirts with black comedy, pushing sourness to savagery.
So many points along the way could have offered the Roses a dignified exit, a chance to end things gracefully. Even their own children cheer at the idea of divorce. Yet pride, spite, and venomous one-upmanship prevail, proving that knowing when it’s really over is the most vital skill in any relationship. The film resonates beyond its narrative, setting a reminder that toxic relationships – whether personal, professional, or societal – will eventually sever every bond. No matter how many friends, networks, or six degrees of separation are placed in between, there will still be no connection if the foundation has rotted away. The healthiest choice, then, is not to cling endlessly but to have the decency to stop, detach, and recognise when it is truly over. Trying beyond that would just be a waste of time.
At the end of the day, The Roses is a sharp, sarcastic must-watch for those navigating sour marriages; or anyone who wants to see how the “C word” can be deployed with wit and precision.
