Splitsville 2025 Movie Review
There’s a sequence early into “Splitsville,” premiering out of competition in Cannes, that makes you realize just why the team of Michael Angelo Covino and Kyle Marvin wanted to make this movie. The writers and actors best known for their indie hit “The Climb” have returned with a flashier cast for this new endeavor, but maybe they weren’t seeking bigger profile projects with glamorous movie stars. Maybe they just wanted to beat each other to a pulp.
What results is one of the funniest fight scenes in recent memory. It starts with slapping and then turns to wrestling, followed by increasing levels of destruction as the two lay waste to a gorgeous Hamptons home, breaking tables and bashing in the walls. Covino, who also serves as director, and Marvin let their bodies flail around for maximum hilarity, and each new phase of their brawl includes another surprising, uproarious micro set piece. (Think of it like Chekhov’s fish tank.) If “Splitsville” was just this it would be worth the price of admission.
But Covino and Marvin have constructed around it a reliably funny rom-com about the notion of open relationships. It’s shaggy in places and favors one side of its story above the other, but ultimately makes for a delightful time.
Even before we get to the aforementioned fight, “Splitsville” quickly establishes its absurdist tone in the opening. Gym teacher Carey (Marvin) and his wife, life coach Ashley (Adria Arjona), are on the way to the beach house owned by their richer friends Julie (Dakota Johnson) and Paul (Michael Angelo Covino), Carey’s childhood best friend.
But even though Carey and Ashley duet (poorly) to Stevie Nicks and Kenny Loggins’ “Whenever I Call You Friend,” something is amiss. Ashley wants Carey to be more sexually adventurous. He wants a baby. And then an in-transit hand job goes awry when a car in front of them crashes, resulting in at least one death. That’s enough to put life in perspective for Ashley. She wants a divorce.
Carey is despondent and gets out of the car, walking all the way to Julie and Paul’s through swampy water as the titles play over Dabney Morris and David Wingo’s jaunty score. At their place, tending to Carey’s emotional wounds and checking him for ticks, Julie and Paul reveal their secret to happiness: They have an open marriage. It’s quickly clear, however, that they aren’t quite as chill about extramarital affairs as they would seem. The next day Paul, a real estate guy, is off in the city and Julie bemoans his absence in her life. Carey and Julie have sex. Paul, upon learning of their coitus, does not take it well. Hence: The slapping melee.
From there Marvin and Covino spin out their premise to more ridiculous heights as Carey returns to the city to find that Ashley has started taking a series of increasingly needy lovers which he systematically befriends. (At one point, he shows them “Lorenzo’s Oil” for movie night. A perfect joke.) Meanwhile, Paul finds himself in a work crisis that puts the lifestyle of Julie and their rebellious son Russ (Simon Webster) in jeopardy, leading Julie back to the dopey sweetness of Carey.
Marvin plays Carey as a charming loser with whom you can’t help but fall in love in a performance that’s so endearing you have no trouble believing that two of the most beautiful women on the planet would be into him, even when he’s pathetic and annoying. (Also the fact that his character has a huge dick which we see on screen multiple times helps support this.) Covino on the other hand plays Paul with a dash of loathsome rich guy energy, that feels like the polar opposite of Carey’s mild nature.
As for the women, Johnson gets the better role as Julie, who likes the existence she has created with Paul but is unsatisfied with Paul himself. She channels her frustration into wryly sardonic line deliveries. Arjona on the other hand has more outright comedic scenes as Ashley, who tries on increasingly wacky new personalities as she dates new people. But her narrative is also shortchanged. Perhaps because the story immediately turns to Carey after she announces she wants out, we are never really given time to understand her desires. It’s harder to be on her side, especially considering that Carey does seem like a nice guy and a good lay from Julie’s perspective.
Even when beats feel underwritten, Marvin and Covino’s script is so consistently funny it doesn’t really matter. A “Vanilla Sky” bit made me howl, and the appearance of Nicholas Braun as a mentalist results in a screamer. On top of that, Covino, working with cinematographer Adam Newport-Berra stages the action with a propulsivity and creativity that makes the domestic problems feel cinematically alive.
“Splitsville” probably won’t greatly advance the conversation around open relationships and their viability, but I’m not sure that’s the intention. In fact, I think those who believe in the concept might scoff at the film. Still, the filmmakers have created an utterly endearing tale of four people trying to negotiate their own desires in the silliest ways possible with unexpected chaos around every turn.
