What a cute gem of a movie Do Us Part is! It has everything I want in a romantic comedy—witty banter kept aloft by people capable of its delivery, characters whose flaws are human and not fake or forced, decent and believable romantic tension, and the one guy who tries to smooth things over by being a lovable heel until it blows up in his face. And most importantly, it has a wonderful heart, expressed gorgeously by writer/director Reed Arnold’s cast (which includes himself) and crew. Even the warm, colorful settings are in on it, framing our characters in safe spaces and allowing them room to let this tale of unrequited love play out.
Speaking of “play,” Arnold’s film definitely reads like something you’d find at an off-Broadway theater, and I mean that in the best possible terms. It’s something you might’ve seen advertised, but it’s not a big hit and you don’t know what it is, so you walk in with few expectations. As it begins and its characters are set up, its very nature disarms and charms us to the point where it’s impossible to do anything but enjoy what unfolds before you. Do Us Part rewards you for your willing discovery by being well-shot, outstandingly performed, and kinda heartbreaking in all the good ways.
It’s Ryan’s (Travis Laughlin) wedding day, and all he wants to do is get his bow tie properly tied. He’s a quiet sort, but you can still see the impish light in his eyes from his college years, which is where his best man Mark (Arnold) comes in. A fast-talking, smooth, and oddly thoughtful dude, Mark seems to be the facilitator, the Rusty Ryan of the bunch. Need some advice, someone to run interference, or a drink? Mark’s got you. And his skills—not to mention his patience—are going to be tested fully when their fellow college buddy Rose (Kelly Russo) arrives… and declares her love for Ryan.
Oh, yeah. It’s one of those movies. We start awkwardly, with both Mark and Rose separately seen taking generous slugs of alcohol (he, during wedding prep; she, in her parked car) to ease their nerves before doing what they need to do. The thing is, Mark’s the only one of these two who’s supposed to be there. This isn’t an oversight or a mistake—Rose is absolutely not an official invitee, and her presence is the catalyst for the rest of the story. A combination of flashbacks to their days and nights at the University of Virginia (even though I didn’t attend the school, this is for my many friends who did: GO HOOS!) and their current-day discussions detail the meet-cute between Rose and Ryan, their friendship, how Mark enters the picture, and seeing how both Rose and Ryan fell in love without telling each other for fear of ruining the friendship.
What’s so attractive about all of Do Us Part is that it’s so damn eager and genuine. Our three leads—Kelly Russo, Travis Laughlin, and Reed Arnold—are perfect for their roles. With indie films like these, it’s all too easy to find people overplaying or not playing enough, mugging a bit for the camera, or not being part of the chemistry required for the story. Truthfully, I thought that was the kind of movie I was getting into at first, but Arnold wisely reins his actors and himself in and asks for truth and realism, not caricature. And in that realism, we find ourselves looking at our own pasts, remembering the friends we made, the times we had with them, and the jokes between us that lasted well into adulthood.
Arnold also doesn’t try to make mountains out of molehills or overdramatize this confrontation of feelings, and for that, I’m very grateful. Throwing a monkey wrench like trying to talk someone out of marrying someone else already provides the dramatics we need; the rest is fast, loose, lovely, and heartfelt. It’s also hugely funny, especially with Arnold playing Mark, who has the best follow-ups that leave us laughing. “Bring a snorkel!” or “Why would you slap me? You know that’s my kink” are just some of the printable bon mots that he gives himself, and the spirit with which he plays the animated Mark is tremendously magnetic.
This, of course, means that Reed Arnold has left appropriate space for Kelly Russo and Travis Laughlin to play quieter roles that make the drama of the piece stick. Watching these two, I feel like they’ve been friends forever, not just stuck together on a film location. There’s an immediate bond that they have, from the first flashback showing how they met to the final words they share as the day closes. Both of them are just as strong and magnetic as Arnold, and the three of them form a triumvirate that can be caustic, pained, loving, and beautiful all at once. Do Us Part reminds me a bit of Noah Baumbach’s first film, Kicking and Screaming, but with a more directed focus on a single friendship and the roads that take us away from each other. Howlingly funny and emotionally devastating, Do Us Part is a fantastic, out-of-nowhere surprise that bests even the most hyped studio-fronted romantic comedies. As I write this, I’ve got it on in the background, and I’m finding that I’m enjoying being swept away by it a second time.
