The Roses Trailer: Benedict Cumberbatch and Olivia Colman Turn Marriage Into War

A modern marital meltdown with bite

Benedict Cumberbatch and Olivia Colman don’t just play a couple in trouble—they turn the breakdown of a relationship into a full-contact sport in The Roses. The late-summer release from Searchlight Pictures reimagines Warren Adler’s acid-tipped novel, made famous by the 1989 Michael Douglas–Kathleen Turner film The War of the Roses. This isn’t a scene-for-scene remake. Director Jay Roach and screenwriter Tony McNamara reshape the story for the modern work-life era, and the result—judging by the first wave of reactions—is spikier, funnier, and uncomfortably timely.

The new film follows Theo Rose (Cumberbatch), an idealistic architect with a purist streak, and Ivy (Colman), who begins as a passionate home cook before taking a big swing at running her own seafood spot. They marry in a whirlwind, relocate from London to Mendocino on California’s north coast, and build a picture-perfect setup: a growing business, a rising career, and twin kids, Hattie and Roy. On the surface, they have what everyone says they should want. Underneath, the cracks are already there.

The timeline, which spans 2011 to 2025, lets the movie show how small slights and big ambitions ferment over years. The turning point arrives in 2021, when a major crisis knocks Theo off course. He loses his architectural job and shifts into full-time caregiving. At the same time, Ivy’s modest restaurant explodes into a hit. That sudden role reversal—mixed with pride, fear, and the politics of money—lights the fuse. The couple’s home becomes a contested zone, the kitchen a throne room, and every compromise a fresh grievance.

Roach stages that escalation with the kind of tonal control he used on Bombshell and the political satire Recount, even as he draws on the comic instincts that powered Austin Powers and Meet the Parents. It’s a tightrope: the laughs are sharp, but the pain lands. McNamara’s script, in the vein of The Favourite and Poor Things, leans into barbed one-liners and social power games. The writing pairs with two actors who know exactly how to turn a smile into a threat. Cumberbatch plays Theo’s insecurity with pinpoint detail—he’s restless, bruised, and often very funny in the worst possible moments. Colman gives Ivy her own complicated center of gravity: strategic when she needs to be, exhausted when she can’t hide it, and not inclined to apologize for success.

The supporting cast adds texture to the crossfire. Andy Samberg and Kate McKinnon pop as Barry and Amy, friends pulled into the couple’s gravitational field, and early viewers say their scenes land with bite. The ensemble—Allison Janney, Belinda Bromilow, Sunita Mani, Ncuti Gatwa, Jamie Demetriou, and Zoë Chao—rounds out a social circle that becomes both cheering section and collateral damage. Not every subplot hits with the same force, according to initial reactions, but the film rarely loses focus on its central duel.

The story’s nerve center is work—who does it, who’s paid for it, and what it says about power. Theo’s shift into caregiving isn’t treated as a sentimental arc; it’s a live wire that shocks him and everyone around him. Ivy’s rise isn’t a fairy tale; it’s pressure, payroll, and kitchen heat, and it changes how she’s seen at home. That collision of personal pride and public validation is the movie’s engine. When one spouse suddenly becomes the brand, the other asks: Where do I fit? What am I worth? Those questions don’t stay rhetorical for long.

Setting matters. The film opens in London’s dense, aspirational hum before moving to Mendocino’s wide horizons. The space feels freeing at first, then isolating—a clever contrast to the original film’s East Coast bravado. The homes and workplaces reflect the shift: clean lines and ambition at the start, then an increasingly tactical use of rooms, routines, and resources as the Roses weaponize their lives against each other. Roach has always liked environments that tell stories; here, the spaces are part of the fight.

For fans of the 1989 classic, this version keeps the vitriol but updates the stakes. The earlier movie satirized yuppie excess. The Roses targets post-2010 ambition culture, where side hustles become empires and family labor is invisible until it explodes. By tracking the couple across 14 years, the film shows the slow build of resentment and the speed at which it can be detonated by one external shock.

The creative pedigree points to why the tonal blend works as well as it does. Roach has toggled between broad comedy and political drama for decades. McNamara’s dialogue is surgical in how it exposes class, gender, and power without stopping the story cold. Together, they give Cumberbatch and Colman a runway for performance duets—rage, remorse, seduction, sabotage—played like chamber music with knives.

Early reviews highlight that chemistry and the script’s edge. Viewers are calling the dialogue scalpel-sharp, with the leads volleying barbs that sting long after the laugh. Some critics note that not all secondary arcs earn equal weight, but they single out Samberg and McKinnon’s Barry and Amy as standout comic foils who also reveal how conflict spills into friendships. The consensus so far: two powerhouse performances, nimble direction, and a tone that lands between wicked fun and genuine ache.

The Roses opened in theaters on August 29, 2025, with Searchlight handling distribution. International rollout follows quickly, including a September 4 opening in Singapore and additional markets through early September. It’s a canny date—late summer counterprogramming with enough star power and bite to draw adult audiences. No streaming window has been announced yet, and given Searchlight’s recent patterns, the theatrical run should get room to breathe before any digital pivot.

The production team—Roach alongside Michelle Graham, Adam Ackland, Leah Clarke, Ed Sinclair, and Tom Carver—leans into a tight, performance-first approach rather than spectacle. That choice lets the movie stay nimble as it jumps across years. You feel time pass in the faces, the furniture, and the tempo of arguments. Theo’s careful idealism bleeds into defensiveness; Ivy’s early doubt hardens into resolve. By the time custody of the smallest things becomes a hill to die on, you understand exactly how they got there.

What makes the film land now is how specific it is about modern marriage. The money conversation isn’t abstract; it’s about who invoices, who misses bedtime, and who keeps score. The parenting split isn’t a line in a speech; it’s a calendar, a pantry, and a phone that never stops buzzing. The career stakes aren’t just ego; they’re reputation, staff, and survival. When the couple’s private ledger of compromises finally goes public—in their home, their work, and their social circle—the comedy goes pitch black because the grievances are painfully familiar.

If the original War of the Roses was a warning shot to the status-obsessed ’80s, The Roses speaks to the ambition-obsessed 2010s and 2020s. It asks a blunt question: what happens when love, labor, and status fall out of alignment? The answer, here, is messy, stylish, and often very funny—right up until the moment it isn’t. For anyone curious about how this new take plays on screen, the The Roses trailer tees up exactly that mix: sleek surfaces, razor dialogue, and two of Britain’s best going thermonuclear with a smile.

Cast, credits, and where it goes from here

Starring: Benedict Cumberbatch (Theo Rose), Olivia Colman (Ivy). With Andy Samberg and Kate McKinnon (as Barry and Amy), Allison Janney, Belinda Bromilow, Sunita Mani, Ncuti Gatwa, Jamie Demetriou, and Zoë Chao.

Directed by Jay Roach. Written by Tony McNamara, adapting Warren Adler’s novel. Produced by Jay Roach, Michelle Graham, Adam Ackland, Leah Clarke, Ed Sinclair, and Tom Carver. Distributed by Searchlight Pictures.

Key dates: August 29, 2025 (theatrical release), with international rollouts following, including September 4 in Singapore. More territories are expected through early September.

For moviegoers, that means a clear window to catch it on the big screen—where the performances and the escalating domestic warfare play best—before any awards chatter or streaming news arrives later in the year.