“Splitsville” opens with an unfinished car karaoke session between Carey (Kyle Marvin) and his wife Ashley (Adria Arjona). “You’re not feeling it?” Carey asks Ashley, to which she replies, “No, I was.” Before either of them says it, it’s clear they’re headed straight for divorce. From there, Carey and Ashley’s relationship goes completely off the rails. It’s the funniest thing you’ll see this year.
After an unforgettable opening scene that I refuse to give away, Carey jumps out of the car and seeks refuge with his best friend Paul, played by Director Michael Angelo Covino. In the midst of Carey’s laments about his failed marriage, Paul and his wife Julie (Dakota Johnson) reveal what’s keeping their relationship intact: money and having a kid together. Oh, and that they’re in an open marriage. As you can probably guess, Carey proposes this to Ashley as a way to salvage their romance, but one unsavory encounter soon throws everything into disarray.
If you aren’t already gripped by the zany premise, don’t worry, because Covino and Marvin’s screenplay has plenty more in store. It’s a full-on dive into the limits — and messiness — of non-monogamy. Just when you think a couple has accepted the state of their marriage, a new lover enters the ring and exacerbates the cracks in their broken homes.
Ashley is quick to embrace an open relationship, casting Carey to the wayside. His completely rational response? To strike up friendships with Ashley’s revolving door of lovers, of course. Shots of Ashley running out to dinner dates or concerts cut to Carey helping two-week flings with their resumes or planning movie nights on his couch.
We quickly learn there’s trouble in paradise for Paul and Julie, too, despite their claim that an open marriage keeps them happy. Paul is constantly on the phone or commuting to Manhattan for his swanky real estate job, and his relationship with Julie begins to crumble. As his career and sanity soon follow suit, the couple’s delinquent son senses this tension at home and turns to nabbing Jet Skis and pantsing classmates.
If you aren’t into screwball comedies, you may have a hard time buying into Ashley’s weird harem or the scene where Paul walks in on Carey in the shower to check him for ticks. But the magic of “Splitsville” is that the cast convinces us to buy into these absurdities. The male psyche is often the butt of the joke, a commentary Covino and Marvin carry over from their 2019 bro-comedy, “The Climb.” They erupt into meltdowns and physical fights while struggling to express their sexual and romantic dissatisfactions. Comparatively, Ashley and Julie are class acts when dealing with their unhinged husbands.
Covino and Marvin’s collaborative history translates seamlessly into their roles as best friends in “Splitsville,” especially when the two are butting heads. The film’s best scene by far is a prolonged fight where Paul goes absolutely ham on Carey. Paul’s insistence that it’s all “chill” proves to be a lie as he violently throws Carey into every square inch of furniture in his beachside mansion — including out a window.
Between the tests of how much furniture can be destroyed and how many people can fit into frame in Carey’s comically small condo, “Splitsville” maintains a surprisingly sweet take on marriage. A chaotic children’s birthday party and a completely deranged magician (Nicholas Braun) turn out to be just what the two couples needed to realize they aren’t happy trying on other partners for size. And while any of the characters could’ve figured this out from the start if they had half a right mind, “Splitsville” wouldn’t be nearly as fun if they did.
Contact Dani Biondi at [email protected].
