From Love to Loathing in The Roses

Directed by  Jay Roach

Screenplay by  Tony McNamara

Executive Produced by James L. Brooks, Michael Adler, Jonathan Adler, Benedict Cumberbatch, Olivia Colman, Cáit Collins

Produced by Jay Roach, Michelle Graham, p.g.a., Adam Ackland, p.g.a., Leah Clarke, p.g.a., Ed Sinclair, p.g.a., Tom Carver

Starring  Benedict Cumberbatch, Olivia Colman, Andy Samberg, Allison Janney, Belinda Bromilow, Sunita Mani, Ncuti Gatwa, Jamie Demetriou, Zoë Chao, and Kate McKinnon

Run Time: 1 hour 42 minutes

Rating: R 

Where to watch: In Theaters

Release date: August 29th, 2025

You ever been around a couple, a so-called power couple, who seem to have everything figured out? The nice home, the successful careers, the picture-perfect family portrait. Then, one day, you watch the façade unravel, ego creeping in, communication breaking down, sacrifice turning into resentment, and you wonder: What the hell happened?

That’s the story of The Roses, a cunning, modern reimagining of The War of the Roses. Where the 1989 film starring Michael Douglas and Kathleen Turner delighted in marital warfare with a darkly comic edge, this version explores the messiness of ambition, competition, and the thin line between love and loathing. The film feels less like a divorce comedy and more like a slow-motion implosion of a life that once looked enviable.

Chemistry and Conflict

Benedict Cumberbatch and Olivia Colman play Theo and Ivy Rose, a married couple who seem, at first, to have it all. They’re successful, deeply in love, attentive parents. In their first scenes together, Colman and Cumberbatch radiate warmth, the kind of chemistry that convinces you this is a marriage built to last. Which is why it’s all the more jarring when the fissures start to show, his career falters, hers takes flight, and the home they built together becomes a battlefield.

If Douglas and Turner’s Roses felt locked in a war of ego, Cumberbatch and Colman’s dynamic is subtler at first. Theo and Ivy don’t immediately despise one another; instead, their unraveling plays like a slow poisoning. There are moments where you catch yourself rooting for them to patch things up, if only for the sake of their kids. But this is The Roses. You know reconciliation isn’t on the table.

Direction and Humor

The premise might be familiar, but the execution is a little fresh. Director Jay Roach gets into the shifting power dynamics, building a tension that’s less cartoonish than the original but no less entertaining. The lighting design even mirrors this descent—bright, sunlit exteriors giving way to shadowy interiors as the Roses’ relationship collapses into something darker and more claustrophobic. By the third act, the family home feels more like a prison than a sanctuary.

And then there’s the humor, the lifeline of this story. Andy Samberg takes on the role of Barry, originally played (and directed) by Danny DeVito. Samberg doesn’t try to mimic DeVito’s delivery; instead, he brings his own brand of nervous, well-meaning comedy, especially in the mediation scenes where he tries and fails to contain the chaos. Kate McKinnon, in peak scene-stealer mode, has the kind of unhinged energy only she can, while Ncuti Gatwa, as an employee caught in the crossfire, delivers the film’s funniest reactions. At times, his wide-eyed disbelief felt like my own because honestly, if my boss and their spouse started hurling plates across the dining room, I’d be plotting how to cash my last two checks and slip out quietly.

The supporting adds to the humor and awe, even in brief appearances. Jamie Demetriou and Zoë Chao, as fellow couple Roy and Sally, provide some of the film’s most cutting verbal blows in a third-act cameo. 

Strengths and Weaknesses

What makes The Roses work isn’t just its humor or its performances—it’s the way it captures how fragile even the strongest-looking relationships can be. Beneath the jokes, it’s a film about ambition and insecurity, about what happens when one partner’s success feels like the other’s failure. Colman plays Ivy’s ascent with a mix of determination and quiet rage, while Cumberbatch imbues Theo with wounded pride and simmering jealousy. Together, they create a portrait of two people who still love each other but can’t live with each other.

Does it reach the brutal heights of the original? Not quite. At times, the film softens its edges, leaning toward lighter comedy where Douglas and Turner once went for the jugular. The middle section sags, and a few subplots, particularly around the couple’s children, feel underdeveloped, although interesting. But there’s also something refreshing about this version’s restraint. It acknowledges the absurdity of marital warfare without making it too grotesque to laugh at.

By the final act, when the Roses’ home transforms into a battleground, the film fully embraces its darkly funny roots. There are betrayals, standoffs, and moments so petty they feel straight out of a rap beef. And yet, through it all, Colman and Cumberbatch maintain the chaos with performances that are slyly comedic and heartbreakingly human.

Conclusion:

Watching The Roses, I kept thinking about how relationships, especially the “perfect” ones, can collapse not in one dramatic blow but in a thousand little cuts. The film asks whether love can survive unchecked ambition, ego, and resentment, and the answer, here, is a brutal no. It may not be flawless, but The Roses is a compelling, often hilarious. Fans of the original may find it lighter than expected, but the chemistry between Colman and Cumberbatch makes the journey worthwhile, making it a solid 7 out of 10. If nothing else, it will leave you with one lingering question: when the cracks appear, how do you keep from turning your home into a war zone?