There is a gender wedge key to the principal conflict of The Roses that goes mostly unstated. The destruction of one career simultaneous to the eruption of another may be what caused the spark, but the notion of the woman in the marriage being the breadwinner for the man is what lit the fuse. As much as emotions and repressed resentments come into focus, personal priorities, actions, and manipulations inform the enmity, this disruption of the presupposed status quo is what really cannot be forgiven.
The Roses is the second major adaptation of Warren Adler’s 1981 novel The War of the Roses, after the 1989 film of the same name directed by Danny DeVito -though like that movie this one changes the given names of its protagonists. More than that, it rearranges the premise substantially, moving the action geographically and just about all of the causes in the rift between its couple -in the hands of director Jay Roach resembling more the aesthetics of a conventional American comedy, but infused with the signature flowery wit and dark subtexts of Tony McNamara’s script. As such, the film is a bit of a confusing mixture of styles, resting almost wholly on the output of its leads.
They are Olivia Colman and Benedict Cumberbatch (the former in her element certainly with the dialogue, having won an Oscar with McNamara). Ivy and Theo Rose are a couple of native Londoners now residing in northern California, he a fairly successful architect who has just completed his dream installation for a local maritime museum, she a chef whose new seafood restaurant does little business but has found some contentment raising their twin children. A very sharp, flirtatious rapport exists between them and they appear to most of their friends to have a model marriage and family life. But then during a major storm, Theo’s installation collapses and destroys the museum while diverted traffic brings excess attention to Ivy’s restaurant including a critic who gives her a great review. On a dime their fortunes turn, as Ivy’s skyrocketing success comes to support Theo, all but blacklisted from the architecture community, who takes up the care of the children. And the cracks begin to form, first subtly, then much more aggressively.
One thing I really like about the way this is presented is that things don’t go south over a short span of time. In fact the movie is set across almost a decade of Theo and Ivy’s resentments and passive-aggression boiling under the surface. A tangible area it can be seen in is the children, who go from fun-loving and mischievous (to a fault) under Ivy’s predominant attentions to almost stoic health and fitness-obsessed teenagers as drilled into them by their dad. They are hardly the same people and it says a lot about the vast disparities in Ivy and Theo’s parenting styles, that never had a chance to really manifest before. Certainly you feel the wounds to Ivy when they hug Theo enthusiastically after getting into a much sought-after school or when she is made aware of a major milestone in the life of her daughter weeks after it had happened. Functionally, the kids become weapons in this years-long war of personalities, groomed one way by their mother, another by their father, unintentionally at first, but very recognizably so by the end.
They represent well how Theo and Ivy are simultaneously intensely compatible and incompatible, and there is no moderation. Their personalities and proclivities are rather alike, but their tenors under stress capsize in extremely different ways. It can be very amusing at times, uncomfortable in others. And there is a degree to which Roach feels out of place in conveying this. Compared to other projects featuring McNamara scripts -The Favourite, The Great, Poor Things- the characters, their situations and emotions are more humane and down-to-earth. There is a naturalism, even a sentimentality to beats that feels very at odds with the visceral cadence of the dialogue and the darkness of the tone. Through situations with their American friends especially, who broadly aren’t constructed that way, their conversation feels tightly written -at an opposite wavelength to the comparative spontaneity of Andy Samberg or Kate McKinnon. It’s not simply down to differing styles of delivery, both Colman and Cumberbatch are great adapters. It is a divergence in how the scriptwriter and the director perceive the movie -is it satirical or is is, in spite of itself, sincere? I feel they would give different answers.
Regardless of that disconnect though, Colman and Cumberbatch nail their parts and elevate the movie. Essentially they willed the project into being out of a desire to work together and their chemistry rises to the occasion. As their friends observe, the rapport between the two is charming and infectious. Each is cognizant of the others’ rhythms and that of the script -it really is a sensational kind of dance they do that is delightful to observe, even in its cruelest corners. Their collection of friends are good reflections (or in the case of McKinnon contrasts) to their personalities, Ncuti Gatwa and Zoë Chao leaving the strongest impressions -though not quite serving as oppositonal flag-bearers in this War of the Roses than might be expected. It’s a decent-sized supporting cast, but none of them really matter beyond the Roses themselves -the thrust of their conflict is so finely insular.
The film is a slower burn than anticipated, the most viscerally malicious and violent acts saved for the tail end of the last act, and a lot of it instigated by Theo, who first takes the greatest step too far. As much as the story endeavours to cast both on an equal footing of aggression and awfulness -and Ivy does score her fair share of mean points against Theo- the roots (as they most often do in real life) largely trace back to the man, his subtle arrogance and insecurity. The money Theo invests in Ivy to open her restaurant feels a little like charity and though her running it costs him nothing in the outset when the tables are turned later and she buys him a plot of land to build a house on, that project proves nothing but a burden on Ivy. Theo is from earlier a little more vindictive, in his body language and expression if nothing else. And while you don’t necessarily buy that there is no love there for her, it does at times convey as transactional on his having power, either in the sense of financial security or in the raising of their children. That simply doesn’t come across in Ivy, who is much more transparent and only goes to dark corners when pushed considerably harder. I don’t know that Roach, or even McNamara sees that, as the movie leans a little more to Theo’s perspective. Because it is the objective framing suggesting that the perfect incarnation of this relationship was the one where he had all the power and she had given up her dreams. And that is a dreary thing to ask an audience to accept in this day and age, but the movie doesn’t provide any other space in which the relationship can in any way be interpreted as healthy.
The Roses is often an appealing movie to watch -England actually doing a fairly good job here masquerading as California, and the architectural aesthetics attributed to Theo are captivating -the house is nice enough that it has more of an impact when it starts to be systematically destroyed. The script is smart and engaging making for a periodically very fun movie, amplified by Colman and Cumberbatch having a great time with the material. Yet Roach doesn’t seem to recognize a key facet of the central conflict, and in not exploring that, implying a mildly regressive theme, and not quite grasping the tone he is working with, it results in a movie that hangs on by the thread of its actors. Luckily they are a pair of very good ones.
Support me on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/JordanBosch
Follow me on Bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/jordanbosch.bsky.social
Letterboxd: https://letterboxd.com/jbosch
Twitter: https://twitter.com/Jordan_D_Bosch
Comments
Post a Comment