Ethical non-monogamy? New comedy Splitsville is more about two flawed couples getting messy
Is it by accident or design that Dakota Johnson has become the star for zeitgeisty sex and romance films? Johnson’s breakthrough role was as Anastasia Steele in the enormously popular Fifty Shades of Grey (2015). Adapted from the book series by E.L. James, it spawned a franchise that, for better or worse, has come to define BDSM in the mainstream cultural imagination.
In Celine Song’s recent film, The Materialists (2025), Johnson plays Lucy, a high-end matchmaker who enables wealthy individuals to bypass the random scrolling and swiping of dating apps and experience a hand-picked romantic match. Although in my review for The Conversation I suggest that the film is muddled in its message, The Materialists makes an effort to address the cynical business of marriage in our modern age – and the dangerous outcomes that can befall women when blind dating goes wrong.
Enter Splitsville, a new comedy film written by and starring Kyle Marvin and Michael Angelo Covino, with Covino also directing. This latest film is about open marriages.
While polyamory, ethical non-monogamy and private arrangements have existed for many years, these practises have recently come to the attention of the mainstream. This has happened alongside other identities, sexual orientations and practices that do not fit squarely into the rigid heterosexual monogamous norm.
Open relationships frequently attract everything from morbid curiosity to disbelief and ridicule in the media. Rarely, however, are they taken seriously. The time is ripe, then, for a film that explores open relationships as a legitimate lifestyle and practice.
How to be polyamorous (and flawed)
In Splitsville, Carey (Marvin) is married to Ashley (Adria Arjona). Ashley is unhappy in their marriage and is especially dissatisfied by their sex life. After Ashley announces that she wants a divorce, heartbroken Carey consoles himself in the company of his friends Julie (Johnson) and Paul (Covino).
Julie and Paul reveal to Carey that they are in an open marriage. Carey, while shocked, is also curious and asks about the rules of their arrangements: can they sleep with anybody, even someone they both know? “Yes,” Julie says, “there are no rules.”
Carey takes this proposition back to Ashley. Why go through the complications of a divorce when they could open up their relationship instead? The rest of the film follows the comedic fall-out of their sexual dalliances. But opening up their relationship doesn’t provide an easy solution to their problems.
Let’s return to our question. Does Splitsville take open relationships seriously? Well, no. The answer is easily found in Julie’s response to Carey’s question: there are no rules. Look at any guidance on open relationships and the best practice is clear: there must be agreed upon rules (or at least expectations), boundaries and communication between all parties.
The couples in Splitsville adhere to none of these things. Yes, this is not a didactic manual for how to be an ethnically non-monogamous couple. This is a fictionalised work about flawed couples whose bad practising of open relationships leads to trouble. But this is also another example of a film using a non-normative sexual practice as a metaphor for something else.
The aforementioned Fifty Shades of Grey isn’t really interested in BDSM. It uses BDSM (bondage, discipline, sadism, masochism) to symbolise Christian Grey’s childhood abuse and his warped sense of power – something practitioners of BDSM take issue with as it reinforces the idea that BDSM is a form of abuse. Similarly, Splitsville isn’t really about open marriages as it uses this as a plot device to allow the couples simply to get messy.
So what is the film interested in? Men getting into scrapes, maybe? After Carey sleeps with Julie (yes, of course this happens), Paul rages (even though technically this hasn’t broken any of his and Julie’s non-rules). Carey and Paul start fighting, which turns into an extended set piece.
Although this got laughs in my screening, I found it indulgent. The men destroy Paul and Julie’s house, kill the pet goldfish and singe off Carey’s eyebrows. Later, Paul becomes involved in some dodgy dealings, including taking out loans in the name of his son, Russ (Simon Webster). This ends badly for Paul and his family. Even Russ gets in on the bad behaviour, stealing a jet ski and breaking another kid’s arm.
And what about the beleaguered wives? They have some fun. Ashley has a string of partners who provide some laughs. But the women certainly don’t behave as badly as the men. I doubt they’d get away with a destroying a home, stripping their marriage of assets, or committing fraud. Although perhaps the real loser in all this is ethical non-monogamy.