Finally arriving in UK cinemas, Splitsville delivers a decidedly off-kilter comedy putting marriage, friendships and monogamy (or lack thereof) under the microscope to messily funny effect.

Split by quasi-legal chapter headings, we begin with Carey (Kyle Marvin) and Ashley (Adria Arjona) driving to their friends Julie (Dakota Johnson) and Paul’s (Michael Angelo Corvino) lakehouse. On the way, another car on the road suffers a serious accident, resulting in the death of one member of a couple. The lead up to the scene announces Splitsville’s bareknuckle comedic style, using absurdity and character, with a tinge of darkness, to full effect. Propelled by the hammering home of the shortness of life, Ashley announces her desire for a divorce, prompting Carey to flee on foot (and by boat) to reach the lakehouse instead. Nursing his woes with his friends, the somewhat smug yet not entirely affectionate married couple reveal that they practice a form of ethical non-monogamy. Soon after, in light of this, Carey sleeps with Julie, angering Paul and setting of a fracturing of friendships and relationships. Soon Carey is with Julie but still living with Ashley who is trying on new partners for size, while Paul floats around between, still pining after Julie, whilst also dealing with mammoth business issues. The characters use each other both for their own desires and to provoke jealousy, weaving a tangled web that somehow adds more and more people.

Splitsville is both farce and, underneath, genuine examination of emotional attachment and the messiness of figuring out what you want. It looks at attraction and possessiveness but primarily offers some great off-beat comedy that propels you through an entertaining ride. It is very funny with multiple laugh-out-loud moments. The ridiculously funny fight that breaks out between Carey and Paul after the latter finds out the former slept with his wife plays out like a protracted, more aggressive (this results in real injuries) version of the Darcy-Cleaver showdown in Bridget Jones, that gets crazier as it goes on. The film ups the ante as it continues, introducing a slew of new personalities in the forms of Ashley’s new lovers, who seem to stay around the house even after she has broken up with them at the behest of Carey, in either/or a show of magnanimity or an attempt to wind her up. The bro-commune is just one way the film plays with intentions, you aren’t entirely sure of why each character is doing what they are doing and who they are really trying to impress. It walks a fine and funny line that keeps it interesting and keeps the characters feeling human even in amongst the farce. The film stays unpredictable; even when feeling slighted, Ashley and Paul don’t find their way to each other, instead the film plays with this convention in a fun way. It is self-aware without being meta and all the stronger for it.

Each of the core quartet are fantastic, breathing life into their characters, making them individual rather than pawns in the wider game writers Angelo Covino (also director) and Marvin are playing. Arjona proves herself once again (I have been a fan since Hitman) as a magnetic presence and gifted comic actress who still lends a grounding to her role. Johnson is suitably slippery as Julie, hard to read but knows when to let the cracks show. Marvin and Angelo Corvino are excellent foils for each other, playing off each other beautifully and letting the emotions of their softer characters grappling with harder feelings light up the comedy. They form a terrific ensemble, and the world is filled out by the smaller players (mainly Ashley’s lovers) who are distinct and hilarious in their own stereotype-driven ways.

It is wryly funny and observant and a fun screwball comedy that also serves as a showcase for its cast. Whilst it might not quite sustain its energy completely the whole way through, it offers the kind of distinct voice we should be supporting in cinema and a fun time at the movies.