The Roses seems like it could be a clever film. It begins with Ivy and Theo Rose attempting to list the things they like about each other at a marriage counselor’s office. Unable to bring themselves to do it, their lists quickly devolve into insults. It is reminiscent of another recently lauded marriage story, the aptly titled Marriage Story (2019), which similarly begins in a mediator's office with a husband and a wife who cannot bring themselves to say anything nice about each other. However, these films hold little else in common aside from their subject matter, as they diverge in their wildly different tones and that Marriage Story at least has something to say about divorce and The Roses unfortunately does not.
After the counselor visit, we see the devolution of Ivy and Theo’s marriage from the beginning. Where they were once cynical Brits bonding over their sexual attraction to each other and shared wit, they become strangers who can barely talk to each other. Just when Theo was an up-and-coming architect, Ivy owned a small, unsuccessful restaurant. This all changes when Theo loses his job just as Ivy’s restaurant takes off, and he takes on the child-raising as she becomes the breadwinner. Tensions rise over parenting disagreements, Theo’s insecurity over his failures and Ivy’s focus on her career, culminating in a destructive and messy divorce.
I imagine it must be hard to write a movie about family matters because in my experience the dialogues that occur are often nonsensical and baffling even if the anger and hurt are very real. As complicated as such situations are, The Roses failed to convince me that there was any sort of actual logical leap between both Theo and Ivy feeling underappreciated and unloved to them trying to kill each other. Comedies can often get away with an underdeveloped plot just because they are so funny, but The Roses cannot take that route because it was not funny enough. It seemed that script writer Tony McNamara chose the old “throwing the spaghetti at the wall and seeing what sticks” method of comedy, as I spent the entire 105 minute runtime with my eyebrows raised, prepared to politely blow air out of my nose at any given moment for the endless barrage of jokes. There are some movies that get away with being packed chock-full of jokes because they are hit after hit (e.g. Superbad), but others, like The Roses, leave me feeling less entertained than I am tired from feeling obliged to giggle at a 2/10, a 4/10 and a 7/10 joke one after the other. With that said, there were certainly some 10/10s, particularly from Andy Samberg and Kate McKinnon in supporting roles. The leads, Olivia Colman and Benedict Cumberbatch, are certainly good, although Cumberbatch shines the most in the rare dramatic moments of the film.
On a negative note, I cannot possibly understand what the writers of the film world have ever possibly seen on the actual earth that has allowed for the creation of the trope where the childrearing wife begins to focus on herself or her career and subsequently neglects her children. The Roses makes it clear that Ivy’s neglect of their children is not an insult that Theo flings at her, but a legitimate criticism as the children are closer to him and she cannot recall her daughter’s dermatological issues. Yes, there are career-minded women that do not prioritize their children. Yet research shows that even as women work more and generate higher earnings, they still carry the primary childcare burden.
Like any good comedy, The Roses does have its dramatic moments. Unlike any good comedy though, it struggled to find the balance between the comedic and the serious. The most poignant moment of the film is when Theo saves a beached whale and in his happiness, realizes that he is wasting his life in a loveless marriage with Ivy. I cannot say I know why they had him save a hyperrealistic beached whale, but it was a lovely monologue from Cumberbatch nonetheless. It was here that I believed the film may be working towards a message, that no matter how much you used to get along or how comfortable you are or how unsure you are that you will find anyone else, you cannot will your way out of prolonged unhappiness. Naturally, Ivy and Theo later realize there is no one else for them, so there goes that message! Is a film supposed to have a message? Perhaps not necessarily, but shouldn’t it at least say something at all? I would like to think so.
Chloe Asack is a senior in the College of Arts and Sciences. She can be reached at casack@cornellsun.com.
