REVIEW: ‘The Roses’ Lacks A Thorny Edge

The mark of any dark comedy is to make even the bleakest, most painful of subjects funny. In an age that’s far more open to break-ups and separation, Jay Roach’s divorce comedy, The Roses, a reimagining of Danny DeVito’s The War of the Roses (an adaptation of Warren Adler’s novel of the same name), arrives primed to place our universal woes in its cynical, witty crosshairs.

Yet, in an ironic turn, The Roses feels far too pruned to make any of its relationship zingers land with oomph or impact. Traipsing around its comedic beats with a trite, all-too polite touch, by the time the titular, mean-spirited war commences, the emotional core of The Roses feels so neat and unearned, you end up laughing at it rather than with it—raising far more eyebrows than guffaws.

Olivia Colman and Benedict Cumberbatch star as Ivy and Theo Rose, a picture-perfect English couple that seems to have it all: prolific careers, great kids, and, most of all, a loving dynamic. But underneath the surface of their idyllic life, a powder keg of resentment and envy ignites.

The Roses feels afraid to get into the grit and grime of its touchy subject matter.

As Theo’s architectural career literally crumbles and Ivy’s status as a star chef rises, a series of compromises and sacrifices give way to a bitter, ugly divorce battle in which “victory” is a matter of perspective and the only certainty is that they and all their friends will badly lose.

For as blunt and painfully relatable as The Roses can be—especially when it highlights the dreams that are often sacrificed on the altar of marriage—Jay Roach’s approach to Tony McNamara’s acerbic script is too clean-cut and neat.

It’s a film that feels afraid to get into the grit and grime of its touchy subject matter, skirting around the edges of the true, bleakly funny punchline. While offering some amusing, rat-a-tat banter, it routinely forgoes a gut-busting punch, evoking the rigid, routine form of a network sitcom rather than something truly hard-hitting.

The off-kilter pacing drags along with one-liner pulled punches.

Much of the film’s pulled punches are the product of off-kilter editing and pacing. Scenes that feel as if they should end drag on and dilute the bitter bite of some crafty one-liners. Other sequences that feel as if they are just beginning abruptly end. There’s an uneven tempo to the film’s structure and comedic cadence that leaves the more promising beats sitting idly by the table.

As a result, The Roses manifests as a mostly harmless experience, too polite and trite to be outright hilarious but too charming to be completely dismissed. Which, given the caliber of its cast, may be a more egregious offence than merely being unfunny. The film’s utter reliance on a smooth, poppy soundtrack only serves to blunt its sheathed blade further.

Cumberbatch and Colman exude a natural chemistry that not only consistently taps into the right register but fosters a natural rapport, especially as their banter turns more acidic and contemptuous. It’s a credit to McNamara’s dialogue, which embeds sardonic gems even in the more throwaway one-liners. Yet, the characters they carve never feel depraved or deranged enough to justify the cruel, even murderous acts they take part in during the film’s violent final act.

Neither humor nor danger ever lingers in The Roses because it’s never thorny enough.

The kind, witty English dispositions Cumberbatch and Colman imbue in Theo and Ivey persist throughout the film, lending the climactic spousal battle an air of zany, unbelievable absurdity that confuses more than it amuses. What is supposed to be The Roses’ defining moment feels awkwardly tacked on, part of a completely different film that finally remembers it’s a reinterpretation of DeVito’s adaptation.

While cringy performances from Kate Mackinnon, Andy Samberg, and Zoë Chao round out the proceedings with raunchy flair, Roach’s film feels too bright, neat, and put-together to satirize the mess of relationships.

Sure, it’s nice to smell The Roses, but there’s no danger of its comedic scent lingering because, despite how thorny it portends to be, there’s no fear of getting pricked.

The Roses is in theatres everywhere August 29^th