Is there a better argument in favour of gay marriage than the folly that ensues in Splitsville? This riotous black comedy sees two straight relationships on the brink when the prospect of “until death do us part” gives one party the jitters with lateral consequences. The shaky reconsideration of commitment comes unexpectedly when Carey (Kyle Marvin) and Ashley (Adria Arjona) are en route to their friends’ summer house.
The drive seems to be going well, especially when the frisky Ashley decides to give Carey some highway head. But, unfortunately for them and especially the couple behind them, the minivan on their heels jackknifes and flies off the road in a fatal accident. When the couple arrives on the scene, Carey finds himself standing there with his dick out literally and figuratively. Death is the wake-up call that Ashley needs to leave him.
So it’s splitsville for them, but Carey finds his desire to win Ashley back piqued. He finishes the trip on foot, and arrives at his destination ready for soul-searching. His interest in what makes a marriage work gets complicated when he learns that his friends Paul (Michael Angelo Covino) and Julie (Dakota Johnson) agreed to an open relationship. One thing leads to another and Carey and Julie testing the limits of that agreement on the kitchen counter. That tryst, of course, leads to splitsville for both Julie’s marriage and the guys’ friendship.
But the split explodes as a smackdown between homeboys as Marvin and Covino face off in an over-the-top brawl. Carey and Paul unleash their fragile male egos with destructive violence as they grieve their failed relationships and damaged friendship by pummelled the crap out of each other. They overturn every inch of Paul and Julie’s home in melee of comedy chaos. The extended brawl between Marvin and Covino is a feat of go-for-broke physical comedy and stunts that leaves a viewer laughing and wincing with equal measure. Tom Cruise rarely performs his feats with such balletic gusto.
The fight characterizes the hilarious irreverence with which Covino imbues Splitsville as a director. The film drolly explodes the idea of heteronormative monogamy leading to happily-ever-after, but it puts the poly game in its crosshairs, too, as Ashley decides to rebound from Carey with a revolving door of multiple lovers. It’s a risky prospect when the open relationship deal didn’t hold between Julie and Paul.
But Splitsville finely balances romance and bromance as Paul and Ashley try to win back their respective partners while Carey and Paul endeavour to repair their long-time friendship. (Julie remains perfectly chill, keeping with Johnson’s star persona.) Marvin and Covino, who also co-wrote the script together, really have a knack for unearthing the humour of male friendships. In the spirit of their previous collaboration The Climb, they know that men are ripe targets for social satire. Splitsville wickedly skewers the fragile nature of masculinity as relationship dynamics (d)evolve. Contemporary attitudes towards gender, marriage equality, and the patriarchy leave guys like Carey and Marvin ready for a beating.
Marvin and Covino have the rapport of two longtime buds, evoking the dynamic of a healthy and lived-in marriage. They share a brainwave, drawing out some uproarious gags and dad jokes that only work because they deliver them with such deadpan dude-ishness. And if something struggles to get an immediate laugh, they draw out the gags, finding humour in the extended awkwardness that gives the film its madcap charm. These guys are a perfect marriage of comedy greatness, even if Splitsville doesn’t make the best case for tying a knot. Or for being a spare prick at a wedding.
