Splitsville
There’s absolutely no sophomore slumping with this picture that’s largely about humping.
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I haven’t seen director Michael Angelo Covino’s 2019 feature debut “The Climb” despite having heard really good things about it. I’d heard similarly positive word about his follow-up “Splitsville” (now in theaters) and the hype is warranted as this is the funniest flick I’ve seen in a hot minute. There’s absolutely no sophomore slumping with this picture that’s largely about humping.
Gym teacher Carey (Kyle Marvin) and his life coach wife Ashley (Adria Arjona) are cruising down the road when she offers him her hand or her mouth while he’s driving. He selects hand (who the hell chooses hand?!!!) and she begins going to work.
Moments later the duo have a near-death experience when they witness a freak auto accident. This prompts Ashley to admit her infidelity to Carey and request a divorce of him. Understandably, Carey spazzes out and splits running to the lake house of their married friends Paul (Covino) and Julie (Dakota Johnson – on a real hot streak in 2025 between “Materialists” and this).
Paul and Julie welcome Carey with open arms and allow him to stay with them and their ne'er-do-well tween son Russ (Simon Webster). They also divulge that they themselves are in an open marriage. It doesn’t take long before Julie and Carey hook up. Paul’s OK with other men sleeping with his wife … so long as they’re not his best friend. Shit hits the fan. Further complicating matters – Julie being interested in Carey makes Ashley reconsider her estranged husband.
“Splitsville” as directed by Covino, co-written by Covino and Marvin and produced by Covino, Marvin and Johnson is the funniest film of the year thus far. It’s funny visually (there’s a prolonged fight sequence that’s somewhat reminiscent of John Carpenter’s “They Live” wherein Covino and Marvin do all their own stunts that’d make the Three Stooges blush, the configuration and context of three hanging paintings had me rolling, beats are called back and the laughs are deepened as a result). It’s funny textually (there are pop cultural and historical references aplenty – this is some quippy and zippy writing). It’s just flat-out funny. It feels a bit like Woody Allen by way of Judd Apatow and Adam McKay’s comedies from the aughts.
Some will complain that the picture suffers of “Seinfeld Syndrome” wherein gorgeous women involve themselves with ordinary-looking men (to Marvin’s credit he’s got a huge hog and repeatedly shows it off to comedic effect) and to some extent that’s true, but it didn’t bother me in the slightest as all of our primary performers really came to play. I’d also argue Covino and Marvin are better looking dudes than Jerry Seinfeld, Jason Alexander and Michael Richards.
“Splitsville” is a screwball comedy that’s largely about screwing. I’m not entirely sure what else is on its mind and I don’t really care as I was too damned busy laughing and having a good time.
It’s a bummer that rather than exploring the themes, style or performances of the movie, this review devotes a paragraph to reinforcing the shallow societal idea that there’s an “objective” beauty people must possess to be worthy of a romantic relationship. Yeah, you say “some will complain” about the romantic matching of different people, but why dignify those superficial complaints by addressing them at all? I mean, you basically admit that these are your own thoughts on these actors’ looks. And the joke that a character “makes up for” his looks with his large penis only further reinforces the superficiality.
It’s just like … come on, man. Surely there are more thoughtful points to express.