Debate X NZIFF #15: Splitsville

DEBATE X NZIFF | REVIEW | WEB EXCLUSIVE

Written by Olive Cato (she/her) | @oliveecato | Contributing Writer

I have a fascinating relationship with Dakota Johnson. Her wide-eyed performance as college student Anastasia Steele in the upsettingly libidinous Fifty Shades of Grey initially caught my attention - not because of the movie (which is arguably terrible), or the premise (arguably worse), but because of what I now understand to be The Unnameable Dakota Johnson Quality. She brings a certain aloofness to the otherwise discomfiting 125 minutes of soft-core Twilight fanfiction that almost, almost makes it work. Since then, her filmography hasn’t exactly moved her up the ranks. But I’ve stayed loyal. Even when her web was connecting them all, I stayed strong, because I knew. She’s got something special.

Splitsville works because it knows what Dakota Johnson is best at. As ‘Julie,’ TUDJQ is on full display. She’s funny, and wickedly so, but not because she’s really trying to crank out the ha-ha’s. The Quality, I’ve realised, works best when she’s put next to people she can react to. It’s her silences; her looks; her sardonic, smirky comments that really drive Splitsville’s humour home. When Johnson first appears on screen, clad in Birkenstock Boston’s; her bangs at their very best, you know exactly what kind of movie you’re in for. And it delivers. 

It’s just so 2025. Director Michael Angelo Covino - I’d just like to take a second to appreciate the fact that this guy is actually called Michael Angelo - and writer Kyle Marvin have pounced onto an array of contemporary, self-centered cultural trends (think life coach podcasters), and rightfully so. I’d like to note that Marvin (also the endearing lead) wrote several lines into this film about his penis being large, as well as explicitly showing it on several occasions. In fairness, it does help explain why Dakota Johnson and Adria Adjorna both want to sleep with him. 

This movie explores the modern-day notion that non-monogamy leads to healthier relationships, because: ‘if we love each other enough, it shouldn’t matter.’ This cracks open a cackle-worthy can of worms for the core four, setting up a solid hour and a half of unpredictable fun. Although slightly underdeveloped, story-wise, the writing is so consistently funny that you don’t really care. If I watched it again, I could probably pick up on multiple grievances with the portrayal of women, or lazy scene beats. But, even still, as the bald man sitting next to me put it: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! 

I’d like to point out that, for a movie so entirely about sexual relations, there isn’t a single sex scene. Instead, Splitsville is an outright slapstick comedy. Covino and Marvin have an obvious appreciation for physical humour - the true highlight of this film is an outrageously choreographed fight scene between the two, which I’d be remiss to spoil. 

All I have to say is: Chekhov’s massive glass fish tank.