From the moment Carey and Ashley’s road trip careens off course, Splitsville stakes its claim as a darkly comic take on modern love. A sudden car crash leaves Ashley declaring divorce on the spot, prompting Carey to ditch the vehicle and clamber—via sprint, tumble and swamp wade—to the seaside haven of his childhood friend Paul and Paul’s wife Julie.
What follows is a fusion of screwball antics and raw emotion, as the film alternates between uproarious set pieces and quieter moments of doubt. By reframing the “remarriage” comedy for today’s fascination with open relationships, Splitsville asks whether permitting every possible option in love ultimately brings us closer or drives us apart. That central tension—between boundless freedom and the craving for genuine connection—fuels the movie’s frenetic energy and surprising heart.
Character Dynamics & Performances
Kyle Marvin’s Carey arrives as the quintessential good guy gone awry: a gym teacher whose desperation and vulnerability shine through every panicked plea. Marvin navigates Carey’s transition from earnest husband to wounded suitor with a disarming physicality, whether he’s dashing through marshland or offering sheepish apologies.
Opposite him, Adria Arjona’s Ashley evolves from playful life coach to restless seeker. Her underplayed panic—evident in a fleeting tremble or sidelong glance—gives way to sharper confidence as she samples new lovers, each personality shift underscoring her uncertainty. Michael Angelo Covino inhabits Paul’s alpha swagger with equal parts bluster and insecurity; his bravura in the film’s centerpiece brawl reveals how fragile his self-assurance can be when betrayal cuts too close.
Holding this quartet together is Dakota Johnson’s Julie, whose sardonic wit masks deeper hurt. In scenes that demand no words, Johnson’s expressiveness—an arched brow, a tightening jaw—carries more weight than any line of dialogue. The chemistry among these four unravels conventional pairings and forges unexpected alliances, charting a complex map of loyalty and desire.
Narrative Structure & Thematic Exploration
Splitsville unfolds like a four-act whirlwind that builds its chaos with surgical precision. It opens by disrupting routine in a single breath: a playful duet of car karaoke gives way to crunching metal and the crack of Ashley’s resolve. That long opening take, which tracks Carey’s desperate pilgrimage across swamp and sand, immediately establishes both the film’s appetite for physical comedy and its willingness to plunge into emotional upheaval.
Act Two ratchets the absurdity higher, unleashing one of recent cinema’s most inventive brawls. Slaps escalate into wrestling, tables become battering rams, and a fish tank cameo lands like a perfect comic bomb. Interwoven with this mural of mayhem are subtler gags—Carey’s misguided hospitality toward Ashley’s exes and a surprise jet-ski cameo from Paul and Julie’s son—that remind us how insecurity often masquerades as control.
As the story reaches its midpoint, cracks appear in every partnership. Paul’s real-estate schemes tumble toward scandal, landing him behind bars in a twist that mirrors his collapsing marriage. Carey, for his part, mounts ever more elaborate gestures to cling to Ashley’s life, suggesting that an “open” heart can sometimes feel more like an empty one.
When the four reconvene at a climactic gathering—complete with a mentalist’s uncanny intrusion—it becomes clear that the film’s true reckoning lies in whether its characters learn from their own wreckage or simply recement the same holes in new ways. Throughout, friendship and romance blur, challenging the notion that love can thrive without boundaries. Physical destruction and emotional fractures echo one another, reminding us that every crash on-screen speaks to an inner collapse of trust.
Direction, Cinematography & Technical Execution
Michael Angelo Covino’s direction turns domestic spaces into kinetic playgrounds, favoring long takes that weave through cluttered rooms like obstacle courses of emotional clutter. He contrasts the serene stillness of the beach house—bathed in warm sunlight—with the claustrophobic energy of city interiors, using each setting to mirror the characters’ shifting mindsets.
Adam Newport-Berra’s cinematography reinforces this dynamic, opening with wide frames of a gilded seaside estate before cutting to tight, intimate close-ups that capture sweat-slick brows and widening eyes during moments of confrontation. Color shifts accompany emotional drift, from sun-washed exteriors to cooler, shadow-ed apartments where tension simmers.
Editorially, the film thrives on rapid intercutting between mayhem and reaction, then punctuates each felled vase or flying cushion with just enough silence for the audience to register the absurdity. Production design elevates every handshake and household item into visual gags—ornate décor doubling as impromptu weapons—while Dabney Morris and David Wingo’s jaunty score and precisely timed sound effects underscore both laughter and tension. In Splitsville, formal rigor and comic chaos lock arms, ensuring that every technical flourish serves the story’s exploration of love’s unpredictable architecture.
Splitsville had its world premiere at the 2025 Cannes Film Festival on May 19, 2025, in the Cannes Premiere section. The film is scheduled for theatrical release in the United States on August 22, 2025, distributed by Neon.
Full Credits
Director: Michael Angelo Covino
Writers: Michael Angelo Covino, Kyle Marvin
Producers: Michael Angelo Covino, Kyle Marvin, Emily Korteweg, Dakota Johnson, Ro Donnelly, Samantha Racanelli
Cast: Michael Angelo Covino, Adria Arjona, Dakota Johnson, Kyle Marvin, Nicholas Braun, David Castañeda, O-T Fagbenle, Prince Rodn3y, Charlie Gillespie, Simon Webster, Tyrone Benskin, Jessika Mathurin, Stephen Adekolu, Nahéma Ricci, Letitia Brookes
Director of Photography (Cinematographer): Adam Newport-Berra
Editor: Sara Shaw
Composers: Dabney Morris, David Wingo
The Review
Splitsville
Splitsville delivers a riotous mix of slapstick mayhem and sharp emotional beats, turning open-relationship chaos into a surprisingly affecting exploration of loyalty and desire. Covino’s long takes and Newport-Berra’s dynamic framing elevate every smash-up into a reflection of inner turmoil, while Marvin, Arjona, Covino and Johnson each balance broad comedy with undercurrents of real vulnerability.
PROS
- Inventive physical comedy that never feels rote
- Ensemble cast who balance broad humor with genuine vulnerability
- Direction and camerawork that turn interiors into dynamic playgrounds
- Sound design and score that punctuate each crash and reveal
- Sharp interplay between slapstick and emotional stakes
CONS
- Pacing stutters in quieter stretches
- Some supporting arcs lack depth
- Tonal shifts can feel abrupt
- Occasional reliance on plot contrivances
