Words by JANE CROWTHER
Premiering at Cannes Film Festival last year, self-billed ‘unromantic comedy’ Splitsville was notable for featuring numerous penis gags in a tale of two couples experimenting with open relationships. The appendage in question belongs to Carey (co-writer Kyle Marvin), married to Ashley (Adria Arjona) and on his way to his bestie’s lake house in upstate NY. As the couple drive to their weekend, Ashley offers a blow-job and then divorce leaving Carey with his dick out (literally and metaphorically). His response is to exit the car and run across fields and rivers in an existential panic to the lake house where his bestie, Paul (co-writer, director Michael Angelo Covino) and his elegant wife Julie (Dakota Johnson) admit to mutually sanctioned affairs.
When Paul disappears to the city, Carey makes a move on Julie, assuming his mate will be fine with it. Paul isn’t, and the duo smash up the quiet luxury home in an epic fight that ruptures their relationships as well as a large fish tank. It’s the catalyst for emotional chaos as Ashley begins dating while still sharing Carey’s house, and Julie wrestles with what (and who) she wants…
Whether this opener is amusing or self-indulgently tone-deaf defines for each audience member whether this quirky mix of physical comedy, nudity and frank sex chat lands or not. Marvin and Covino previously created The Climb (two friends out cycling who discover one has cheated with the other’s girlfriend) which was a Cannes and TIFF hit, and this veers into similar territory in protagonists behaving like jealous toddlers and fragile male egos being tested. Fans of that will likely enjoy more of the same, newcomers may be bemused as to how either of these men sustain relationships with anyone, let alone the beautiful, well-adjusted and interesting women Johnson and Arjona play.
That said, Splitsville is unconventional and unexpected. There’s fun to be had in the parade of thoroughly decent men that Ashley brings home, a whole bit at a chaotic child’s birthday party (featuring Succession’s Nicholas Braun as a morose magician), an incident involving goldfish and a rollercoaster, and more full frontal male nudity. It’s never clear where any of it is going as it messily (and incredulously) unwinds – to an ending that seems to run out of steam, but that is also a refreshing change from carbon copy rom-coms. Though the film is intended as a showcase for Marvin and Covino, it’s Johnson and Arjona who really shine, and one can’t help wondering if the gents could write something more robust for this duo to play with for their next project.
Words by JANE CROWTHER
Pictures courtesy of Neon
Splitsville is out in cinemas now
