The Roses
Directed by Jay Roach
Written by Tony McNamara, based on the novel The War of the Roses by Warren Adler
Starring Benedict Cumberbatch, Olivia Colman and Andy Samberg
Classification 14A; 105 minutes
Opens in theatres Aug. 29
The best, most vicious joke in Jay Roach’s adaptation of Warren Adler’s 1981 novel The War of the Roses is that the new film is so heavily banking on audiences’ familiarity, and perhaps even undying love, of Danny DeVito’s 1989 version of the tale.
That long-ago satire, which starred Michael Douglas and Kathleen Turner as a divorcing couple who would give Edward Albee’s George and Martha a run for their money, certainly had its admirers back in the day. But it is weirdly, genuinely hilarious that someone deep in the bowels of Hollywood was so desperate for the safety of brand familiarity that they decided that a new War of the Roses is exactly what today’s audiences crave.
In tougher, meaner hands, the bet might have paid off. There is a sick, cathartic pleasure to be found in watching other people tear each other to bits. But as directed by Roach (Meet the Parents) and written by longtime Yorgos Lanthimos collaborator Tony McNamara (Poor Things, The Favourite), The Roses is not nearly acrimonious, or funny, enough to justify its peculiar existence. If DeVito’s original was the cinematic equivalent of going through the divorce from hell, this new break-up feels more like a trial separation.
From left to right: Benedict Cumberbatch, Ncuti Gatwa, Olivia Colman, Kate McKinnon and Andy Samberg in a scene from The Roses.Jaap Buitendijk/Searchlight Pictures/Supplied
The cast is well-assembled enough, with Benedict Cumberbatch as the aggrieved husband Theo and Olivia Colman (who starred in McNamara’s The Favourite) as the severely fed-up wife Ivy. And this new version at least reverses the dynamics of the source material, with Theo a failed architect turned stay-at-home dad who has become jealous of the professional success of Ivy, a newly renowned celebrity chef.
But instead of doubling down on the venom of either Adler’s book or DeVito’s film, Roach and McNamara assume that the sheer British-ness of their characters – both Theo and Ivy are U.K. transplants, settled in coastal California – will import enough stiff-upper-lip unpleasantness to compensate for a script that views the c-word as the ultimate punch line.
What’s more frustrating is the tone that Roach employs, which is neither absurd nor viscerally real. To wit (or not): Many of the film’s supporting characters – notably Theo’s friends, played by Andy Samberg and Kate McKinnon – sometimes react as any normal person might to Theo and Ivy’s disastrous relationship (with gawking horror), and sometimes join in on the fun as if they are court jesters.
The jarring shifts are only there because Roach (rightly) senses that Saturday Night Live vets Samberg and McKinnon are ace comic players, able to elevate any scenario. But the decision also frequently tilts the film off of its comedic axis, turning characters into cartoons and then back again.
Roach and McNamara earn late-game points for delivering a shockingly bleak finale that will chill the warmest of hearts, especially those belonging to anyone who recalls DeVito’s film. But the time that it takes to get there – including the moment in which Allison Janney gamely swoops in for a few minutes to play Ivy’s scarily efficient lawyer – doesn’t so much break hearts as it bleeds them dry.
