The Roses (2025) – Viciously Funny Marital Meltdown with Razor-Sharp Truths

Hello, movie lovers! In this blog post, I'm pruning the petals of domestic perfection with The Roses (2025), directed by Jay Roach from Tony McNamara's wicked script. Starring Olivia Colman as the soaring Ivy and Benedict Cumberbatch as the sinking Theo, with Kate McKinnon in scene-stealing support, this R-rated dark comedy-satire-drama (1h 45m) reimagines the 1989 classic from Warren Adler's novel. I was hooked from the first barb and cackled through the carnage, its brutal truths on love's shelf-life earning a near-perfect 9/10—one of my year's best, rewatch-ready. Let's wilt the facade and dig into the dirt.

The Roses (2025) - From Soulmates to Scorched Earth in 105 Minutes Flat

Cracking open The Roses felt like eavesdropping on the neighbors from hell—I was instantly addicted to its venomous vibe, the way it skewers "perfect" partnerships with surgical snark. Colman and Cumberbatch are a combustible dream: her Ivy rocketing from homemaker to celebrity chef, him Theo cratering from hotshot to house-husband, their flipped fortunes fueling a firestorm of resentment that flips love to loathing in one savage season. That line—“It’s like, when we were young, I knew what she was gonna say before she even said it. And now, I don’t know what she said even after she says it”—gutted me; it nails how intimacy erodes into incomprehension, a thin line between devotion and divorce papers. The comedy swings from laugh-out-loud lunacy (McKinnon's unhinged agent is pure chaos) to pitch-black barbs that bruise, all while unpacking real rot: career cannibalism, parental trade-offs, the myth of forever. At 9/10, it's a masterclass in marital autopsy—hilarious, heartbreaking, and horrifically honest. Skip the rom-coms; this is the anti-Valentine we need.

The Plot: From Dream Home to Demolition Derby

Ivy (Olivia Colman) and Theo (Benedict Cumberbatch) appear to have it all: thriving careers, adorable kids, a McMansion that screams success. But when Theo's empire implodes and Ivy's culinary star ignites, the power flip fractures their foundation—suddenly he's Mr. Mom, she's the breadwinner, and every dinner is a dagger. What starts as passive-aggressive jabs escalates into all-out war: sabotaged soufflés, weaponized appliances, and a house that becomes a battlefield of broken dreams.

Roach and McNamara (The Favourite venom meets Meet the Parents mayhem) update Adler's 1981 novel and the DeVito/Douglas/Kathleen Turner '89 brawl for the influencer age—Instagram empires, therapy-speak, and cancel-culture casualties—without losing the core carnage. Themes of impermanence, identity erosion, and love's lethal half-life bloom amid 105 minutes of escalating absurdity, from champagne to chainsaws. No songs, no sermons—just a savage satire that ends where most marriages fear to tread. Budget: $30M; Box office: $51.5M and climbing. It's a lean, mean domestic demolition that demands you pick a side… then realize there are none.

Performances That Torch the Screen

Olivia Colman is a force of feral ambition as Ivy—her smile curdles into something sinister, every eye-roll a landmine, proving she's the queen of controlled chaos. Benedict Cumberbatch counters with devastating delicacy, his Theo unraveling from alpha to also-ran with heartbreaking hilarity—watch him bond with the kids while his ego bleeds out. Kate McKinnon detonates as their deranged agent, a tornado of one-liners and lunacy that nearly steals the show. Together, they’re a holy trinity of marital misery—chemistry so toxic it’s intoxicating, turning dialogue into duels and glances into gut-punches.

A Razor-Edged Reboot of Domestic Destruction

Jay Roach (Austin Powers, Bombshell) and Tony McNamara (Poor Things) sharpen the '89 template into a scalpel for 2025—less slapstick, more soul-scrape, with McNamara's dialogue slicing like sushi knives. It’s Kramer vs. Kramer on bath salts, Gone Girl with gallows humor, but uniquely savage in its symmetry: every triumph for one is a trauma for the other. Visuals pop with pastel prisons and gourmet gore, scored to a soundtrack of simmering spite. Compared to the original’s cartoon cruelty, this leans literary—less about the house, more about the hearts it hollows. It’s dark comedy done divine: proof that satire stings hardest when it’s surgically true.

Ratings and Critical Reception

IMDb: 6.8/10 (from 22,000 users), RT: 65% critics (187 reviews)/79% audience (1,000+ verified).

Critics split on the "mean-spirited" edge vs. "brilliant brutality"; audiences devour the dark delights. My 9/10 sides with the savage—its truths trump the tone.

A Minor Critique: When the Barbs Bite a Bit Too Deep

A tiny thorn in this rose garden: some jokes land like over-seasoned salt—McKinnon's agent zingers occasionally overstay, tipping from deliciously dark to "dial it back, darling." Still, it’s a quibble in a bouquet of brilliance.

A Wickedly Wise Gem for Relationship Realists

At 9/10, The Roses is a vicious valentine to love’s expiration date—rewatch gold for anyone who’s ever shared a sink. It gutted me, made me laugh, and left me staring at my own reflection. Nothing lasts. Deal with it. Stream it, scream it, survive it.

What did you think of The Roses? Team Ivy, Team Theo, or Team Therapy? Drop your divorce decrees in the comments, and suggest my next review—I’m craving more marital mayhem! Like, follow, share so you don’t miss the next blowout. Thanks for joining—see you in the wreckage!