The Roses (2025)

The Roses has been billed as a remake of The War of the Roses (1989) – the Douglas/Turner dark comedy, directed by Danhy Devito and rightly recognised as a great romp through the bleaker aspects of divorce. Remakes are often cited as an example of Hollywood running out of ideas and a low-risk approach to what should be high-risk creativity. Remakes are seen as an attempt to duplicate economic success over artistic endeavour.

See for example, Mark Kermode on The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, which he branded as evidence of the:

“entertainment industry’s artistic laziness and penchant for pre-sold product.”

Because the remake is seen in this way, it is hard to offer decent critiques and reviews without resorting to simple compare and contrast debates. Currently, the remake is rarely allowed to stand on its own merits.

And yet, the movie industry has always relied on repetition and remakes. Cinema is the art of repetition. It builds on itself, film after film, to provide the audience with a scenic vocabulary and expectation of narrative forms that are understood, precisely because they are repeated. The remake is a film staple and has been since the beginning of the industry. Some of the most important films have been remakes. My 1940s imaginary screenwriting persona pops up here to say:

“Hey Honey, The Maltese Falcon, that you film buffs are happy to call the birth of Film Noir, well, that was a remake.”

So, maybe we need a different word – like reimagining, re-interpretation, an adaptation. Or we could borrow from theatre and call it a revival – a word literally brimming with new life.

All of this is important when reviewing The Roses. I had watched and loved The War of the Roses. It is a delightful dark comedy. So going to see a ‘remake’ felt a little off, a slight betrayal of the original and induced a little fear that I would be disappointed.

I was not disappointed.

From the opening scene, with Theo (Benedict Cumberbatch) and Ivy Rose (Olivia Coleman), in front a therapist, I started to laugh. The small matinee audience also laughed. I relaxed. I knew Coleman could deliver comedy and it turns out so can Cumberbatch. They were delightful, in their resentment and insult-hurling.

Quickly I forgot to make the comparison with the other adaption of Warren Adler's novel. I was watching something different. A different setting, a different time, a different set of concerns. Also surrounding Theo and Ivy there was a stellar comedy cast, that helped cement the Anglo-American ‘special’ relationship of mutual misunderstanding.

The Roses is a dark comedy about a power couple of architect and chef forced to take turns away from their careers by child-rearing. Both are involved in professions that rely on hard-work, creativity and reputation. When Theo’s reputation is devastated publicly and humiliatingly, the cosy power balance shifts.

Dark comedy is a slippery term. We know it when we see it. It is the sort of comedy that deals with the bleaker side of humanity, usually touching on taboo subjects (like falling out of love), or is deeply pessimistic about human nature, or has a weird, absurd, dark aesthetic. All comedy is subjective, but dark comedy, in particular, will hit people in different ways and will exclude some sensibilities from “the joke.” For example, The Roses has come under fire for the treatment of allergy as a tool of manipulation. (I live with someone with a nut allergy, which is not funny). But in a comedy about toxic manipulation – it holds its place in the script. It would take a particularly sick mind to think – ah, I know what do now when dealing with an allergy. There were also times as the relationship turns toxic, I had to remind myself I was not watching it as a Domestic Abuse researcher. It was supposed to be that way. We didn’t have to worry about these characters. It is not real. But it is funny.

The Roses is funny. The humour starts dark with the therapy session. But the dark tone isn’t consistent. Much of the humour is gentle, broad and consists of people falling in love. There are tone shifts, especially towards the end when the humour becomes bleaker, angrier, less predictable.

The script is tight. Insults are bandied about with panache. The writing and performances sparkle for the most part. It is not a reflection of a real relationship. It is more a satire on the plight of competitiveness over connection and how ultimately comparisons rather than attachment leaves us empty. (Therefore I’m not going to fall into the trap of comparing this to The War of the Roses).

For me, the trickiest bit of the script (but not the performances) was the writing of the children. It was a level of absurd, that was perhaps just a little too elevated for me – especially when matched against Olivia Coleman’s masterful, naturalistic watery-eyed horror at the feeling she had lost them.

The big take away – go and see it. It was fun. A solid four star comedy film.

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