ROSE (2025) - Mark Reviews Movies

Rose, Cohen Media Group

Follow on Facebook | Follow on Twitter | Become a Patron

Review by Mark Dujsik | January 23, 2025

Co-writer/director Aurélie Saada's Rose falls into a particular category of movie. In it, the eponymous character suffers a loss, realizes there's more to living than the life she has known, and starts to take advantage of this new perspective and to experience new things. The woman here is 78-year-old Rose Goldberg (Françoise Fabian), whose husband of many decades dies, and after that, she starts drinking some vodka, becomes open to smoking a bit of marijuana, and finds herself flirting with the bartender at the café next to her apartment. In terms of this specific kind of movie, it's exactly what one would expect.

The difference from the norm, perhaps, is the addition of the rest of Rose's family into the mix. Those characters are Rose and her late husband's three adult children, who themselves have issues living their own lives to their fullest. A familiar story told in a predictable way can still succeed on those terms, and while Saada and co-screenwriter Yaël Langmann show a bit of ambition by expanding the scope of this exercise in a feel-good tale about late-age independence, they seem to have missed the point of the story they're telling with that broader perspective.

Rose remains a fascinating and engaging character, regardless, mainly because Fabian's interpretation of what might be a clichéd character type at this point is so grounded. To be fair to the screenwriters, some of that is built into the script itself, especially how conflicted Rose is about her newfound freedom, which comes in the midst of the death of a good man whom she truly loved and with increasing pushback from her children.

Nothing seems wrong with the husband, named Philippe and briefly played by Bernard Murat, when he first appears. There's a big party for his birthday, attended by extended family and enough friends or acquaintances to fill an entire banquet hall. He's happy, drinks his usual cocktail of vodka and almonds, and insists Rose be part of the group's celebratory act of raising him in a chair. His elder son Pierre (Grégory Montel) is the only one who knows the truth: that Philippe has a terminal diagnosis. The husband, father, and generally beloved man just wants one last party without anyone feeling sad.

In the next scene, Philippe's body is being returned to the couple's apartment from the hospital. The family sits shiva and buries him. After that, Rose becomes housebound, lying in bed or watching television, while her younger son Léon (Damien Chapelle) prepares for a criminal trial, on account of being accused of selling stolen goods, at the apartment and her daughter Sarah (Aure Atika) tries to get her mother to go anywhere.

The rest of the story feels oddly divided, attempting to give close to equal weight, if not time, to Rose and her three children. Pierre, Sarah, and Léon each have some pressing issue or complication with which to deal.

For the youngest, it's the possibility that he'll be in prison soon, while he also depends on his mother, not to mention his father before Philippe's death, for a bit too much for a man his age. For the daughter, it's the fact that she still hasn't gotten over her divorce to a man who has since moved on with his own life. She has romantic options, to be sure, but apparently, she'd rather wait around for the unlikely possibility that her ex might change his mind about being "tied down" by marriage and having a kid. As for Pierre, he's eventually tempted to stray from his own marriage by a recent reunion with Sophie (Anne Suarez), a former classmate who's now his younger brother's attorney.

There is, obviously, a lot going on this little tale, which isn't so much about grief as it is about the promise and perils of either taking on a new lease of life or becoming stuck in a deadening routine. The material with the children, however, feels rushed, partially developed, and a continual distraction from Rose's venture into unfamiliar and appealing but frightening terrain. It tries to broaden its perspective on and themes about the aftermath of loss and the complexity of starting anew, but in the process, the screenplay sells its title character short.

Rose's story is still engaging, though, even if it is also underdeveloped and familiar. She does, after all, have obligations, if only in her mind, to fulfill as a widow and as the mother to three children who still rely on her in some way. That becomes the central conflict here for the character, following a dinner party with some of Sarah's friends where Rose does finally drink some alcohol, after a lifetime of refusing it, and smoke some weed and sees how much fun a woman her own age at the party can still have. Eventually, Rose starts being free on her time—going to the café on her own, where charming younger bartender Laurent (Pascal Elbé) works, and taking Philippe's car out on the town.

There are pleasures to be found in Rose, for sure, particularly in Fabian's performance, the moments when the character embraces her independence, and the gradual shift toward a sense that there are no easy answers to or relief from all of the problems for these characters or their relationships. It's simply a movie striving for too much and, in the end, doing too little.

Back to Home

Buy Related Products