The black comedy is a subgenre that is dangerously close to extinction. Once the kick in the pants the genre needed to stay fresh and in fashion, the black comedy is now nearly non-existent on the big screen, at least with the vicious and unforgiving bite it came in during the late ’80s and mid-’90s. Comedy as a whole is going through a tough time at the box office, but this ruthless subgenre is particularly struggling — 2020’s I Care a Lot and perennial TV mainstay It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia notwithstanding.
Thirty-five years ago, however, the black comedy reached its peak with Danny DeVito’s The War of the Roses, one of the darkest and most savage entries into the subgenre’s annals. Starring ’80s icons Michael Douglas and Kathleen Turner, plus DeVito himself, the film marked the trio’s last hurrah in a decade that saw them reach the height of their respective careers. In retrospect, it’s astounding just how fresh and topical this wicked satire feels in 2024, capturing much of today’s sensibilities in truly subversive fashion. On its 35th anniversary, it’s the perfect time to revisit this timeless yet somewhat underrated effort, quite possibly the nastiest and most ruthless comedy of the 1980s.
When love turns to hate
The War of the Roses centers on wealthy couple Oliver (Douglas) and Barbara (Turner) Rose. The pair meet in college, get married, and have two children. Over the next 18 years, he hyper-focuses on his work, becoming a highly successful lawyer who grows distant and selfish. For her part, she becomes a stay-at-home mother to their two children, centering her life around the wealth and materialism he provides. Once their children are ready to go to college, Barbara realizes she is unhappy, unfulfilled, and has grown resentful of Oliver; she asks for a divorce, and he reluctantly agrees.
Things become complicated when Barbara’s lawyer pulls a nasty trick, leading Gavin (DeVito), Oliver’s lawyer, to use a legal loophole to avoid giving her the house, the one thing she wants in the divorce. What ensues is an increasingly spiteful battle of egos where the pair turn every last drop of the love they once shared into bitter bile. As their fight worsens, going from mere petty acts to actual violence and escalating cruelty, the former couple descend further into misery without caring what will happen to them or those around them.
I am not exaggerating when I say The War of the Roses is one of the nastiest movies I’ve ever seen. Although the premise would suggest a series of petty antics that would eventually culminate in the couple rediscovering their love for each other, The War of the Roses is far more brutal. There is genuine contempt in Barbara and Oliver’s actions, despite his claims that he still loves her and her claims that she at least feels some degree of affection for him. Indeed, the more the film progresses, the more vicious the two become. At one point, Oliver interrupts an important dinner of Barbara’s catering business, sneezes on the food, and proceeds to pee on the fish course. Before that, Barbara locks Oliver in the sauna, causing him a severe case of heatstroke.
The film is granted playful flair by DeVito’s impish direction, perfectly complemented by a truly churlish screenplay courtesy of the late Michael J. Leeson, adapted from the eponymous novel by Warren Adler. DeVito brings his trademark dark humor into the mix, but he perfectly understands the type of film he’s helming. Thus, he opts for a near-horror approach, particularly during the third act, which takes place in the dim-lit house at the center of the Roses’ divorce battle.
His genre-blending approach is expertly complemented by Douglas and Turner, two actors who understand better than most how to tap into a character’s inner darkness. The duo is proudly and unyieldingly unpleasant, gleefully embracing the escalating lunacy. Yet, they never go as far as to become unlikable; instead, you just sit there, entranced by the macabre plot and wondering why you can’t quite root against the Roses.
When hate turns to anger
Typical “war of the sexes” movies thrive on the inherent differences between men and women but always rely on one basic idea: he complements her; he makes up for her shortcomings, and vice versa. Not The War of the Roses, though. In this movie, men and women are inherently incapable of meeting halfway — he doesn’t listen, and she doesn’t let go; he’s incapable of owning up to his flaws, and she’s all too happy to give in to the grudge that has been simmering for 18 years.
The War of the Roses is an angry and unrelenting exploration of the nature of hatred, how it’s born and how easily it festers until it poisons everything. It’s about how the mere presence of someone can cause a visceral reaction within you, and all you want is to see them gone. You realize you’re being unreasonable and acknowledge you might be in the wrong. And yet, you don’t care; you want what you want, and you want that person out of your life — out of this world, for all you care.
The War of the Roses is about that point where you understand there’s no going back, the line that cannot be uncrossed, the road that cannot be un-taken. It’s also about choice: Oliver and Barbara have every possible option, yet they still choose to be petty and insensitive to one another, to the point where they hurt each other, their children, and pretty much everyone in their inner circle.
The way I’m describing this movie, anyone might think there’s no reason to watch it; indeed, it might sound like an utterly miserable experience. However, rest assured, it isn’t, for never has so much vile been so painfully funny. The War of the Roses makes you wonder how on Earth can two people who truly detest each other be so drawn to their toxic dynamic. And then you realize that you’ve been witnessing the same emotional violence for almost two hours without hating the Roses; in fact, you’ve been quite entertained by their cruelty, morbidly waiting to see just how uncaring and brutal they can be to each other — perhaps their behavior isn’t that out of the question. It’s no surprise this movie made $160 million at the box office. To put that into perspective, that’s roughly $300 million in today’s money, which is almost twice what Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga made earlier this year.
When anger turns to torment
There is only one way a movie like The War of the Roses could’ve ended. Spoilers now for a 35-year-old movie: both Barbara and Oliver die. Their battle escalates to the point of physical violence, culminating in both of them hanging from the chandelier in their now-trashed house. It inevitably crashes to the ground, killing them both. With his final breath, Oliver reaches out to grab Barbara’s shoulder, one last expression of his misguidedly stubborn “love” for her; with her final breath, she firmly pushes his hand aside, one final statement of her undying hatred for him.
What remains is a moral as cynical as the film that preceded it: prenups can save your life. On a deeper level, The War of the Roses is a cautionary tale about how easy it is to succumb to anger and contempt and how revenge can only end with victory but not satisfaction. Just ask Oliver and Barbara, who pulled out the rose root and stem without caring that the thorns would eventually bleed them to death. Perhaps that is the unspoken truth of humanity: one will shoot through oneself if that also means hitting the person behind.
Thirty-five years later, The War of the Roses feels as refreshing as it did in 1989, if not more. It’s no surprise that a remake is in the works, courtesy of Searchlight Pictures. Normally, I object to remakes on principle alone. However, the prospect of seeing Benedict Cumberbatch and Olivia Colman spit vile at each other is far too attractive for me to ignore. Bring on the poison, Miss Colman, and make him suffer; god knows we all love to see it.
The War of the Roses is available to rent or purchase on Amazon and other digital vendors.
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