Directed by Ethan Coen | Written by Coen and Tricia Cooke | 89 min | ▲▲▲1/2 | Amazon Prime
In February of last year we got a scrappy, shaggy lesbian comedy from the husband and wife team of Coen and Cooke — Drive Away Dolls. It suffered a little in comparison to the many classics Ethan Coen made with Cooke in the editor’s chair and brother Joel also behind the camera, but it was a fun, bloody, and refreshingly sexy genre spoof. Honey Don’t! is just as fun, though suggests a larger budget and a somewhat more focused plot, despite more than a few plotholes in its dusty road.
The stellar indie darling Margaret Qualley is once again the lead. She’s Honey O’Donahue, probably the only private detective in the unforgiving desert town of Bakersfield, California. She dresses impeccably, crisp white shirts and pencil skirts, fantastic footwear on exquisite pins, driving a cherry 1972 Chevelle SS convertible. This is a gumshoe carrying an unspoken melancholy — there’s got to be a reason she self-medicates with booze and sex when she’s not on the job. She’s the Sam Spade of the story, and like him she’s into dames, though not her assistant, Spider (Gabby Beans, hilarious).
A prospective client dies in a car crash, which might be a murder, leading her first to a couple of contacts in the local cop shop, Marty (Charlie Day) and MG Falcone (Aubrey Plaza), with whom Honey has a fundamental romantic connection — a highlight here is their steamy sex scene and a lovely character note, Falcone’s nipple piercing.
The sex is all around — we also get hot priest (actually sleazy cult leader) at a local church, The Four-Way Temple. His name is Drew Devlin (Chris Evans), who’s frequently taking of the flock in his back room. The church is also a cover for a drug operation, though the frequent deaths of clients isn’t pleasing Devlin’s suppliers, the mysterious French, represented by scooter-riding Cher (Lera Abova).
Honey’s got a sister, Heidi (Kristen Connolly) with a passel of kids including teen Corinne (Talia Ryder), who gets into trouble first with an abusive boyfriend, and then disappears — distracting Honey from her case.
And here’s the thing: This whole movie is a distraction from the case — Honey stumbles onto what’s actually going on in this town by accident. It was happening right under her nose, but at the same time going unsolved — or at least unresolved — is a big chunk of the plot.
And unlike The Big Lebowski, which was similarly and fundamentally character-driven, or No Country For Old Men, where the dark truth in men’s hearts is so chilling it doesn’t matter that a key character is murdered offscreen, Coen and Cooke endangers the success of this project trying to play similar games in sillier ways.
But maybe that’s OK, because the what the film is really about — and this is crystal clear — is the trauma that fathers can leave with their daughters. Full marks as well to the cast — those mentioned above as well as quality support from Billy Eichner, Kinna McInroe, and Josh Pafchek — the confidence in the script, and a deeply parched, evocative location.
A pro-vagina bumper sticker covering up an asshole’s MAGA sticker helps to clarify what this movie is also saying: Inside America is a weird, rocky place where this seed should find some purchase. The forthcoming Beavers Go! will wrap up this trilogy of lesbian b-movies Coen and Cooke have going on. Can’t wait for a Blu-Ray box set.
