Before Timothy Woodward Jr’s Til Death Do Us Part evolves into a bare knuckle crunch of choreographed fighting and splitting-guts ax kills, it begins with a literal runaway bride (Natalie Burn) escaping from the altar from her intended (Ser’Darius Blaine) and holing up in her late father’s homely, candle-lit forest house. It’s not long before the group of best men live up to their own literal title and surround the house in hopes of persuading (either tactfully or forcefully) the bride to return with them.
From that innocuous set-up, Til Death Do Us Part spirals into a violent narrative of splatter effects and ninja-like fistfights that belies the fact its men and woman are far from the usual ragtag wedding party of over drinkers and amusement takers.
Interspersed around this fight-or-flight thread, the film inter-cuts (the future? the past?) as the seemingly now happy couple spend their honeymoon in a sand and sun resort south of the border. Among the nights of drinking and dancing, the couple meet another couple, played by Nicole Arlyn and an unrecognizable Jason Patric and are immediately charmed by their invitation to spend the next day on a yacht with them. However, like the dual narrative of the best men and bride going toe-to-toe in violence, this episode of seeming marital bliss is just the facade for a much more dangerous intersection for both couples.
I initially wanted to think Til Death Do Us Part was a sort of shrewd, biting satire about the tenuous expectation of marriage and its romantic foibles. Then I realized it’s not that smart. Full of grating characters who spout oh-so-cool dialogue from the remnants of a cinematic universe littered by the echoes of Tarantino and completely devoid of anything other than a will to impress through the aerobatic fighting skills of actress Burn, Til Death Do Us Part grows stale and tired by the minute, especially in its opening portion where the best men are siphons for all those cliche baddies throughout action films for decades.
Mildly more interesting is the dialogue-driven interplay between the two couples in a strand that has us wondering how this all fits into the grand scheme (and time) of things. Jason Patric is especially good as a man who alternatively keeps a drawer full of folded napkins and a gun. I could easily see a short film exploring the psychological play between the couples.
However, those interesting moments are fleeting before Til Death Do Us Part pivots back to what it has most on its mind- bloodshed, fighting, and a crucial stand-off between two people that is far less interesting than the quiet moments. It’s a film that pretentiously doesn’t even name its lead couple, which shows its priorities lie in bloody theatrics rather than strong development.
Til Death Do Us Part opens in the Dallas/Fort Worth area on Friday August 4th. Check theater listings for showtimes.
Dallas Film Now. 