Despite his wife and co-writer Tricia Cooke being a lesbian, Ethan Coen’s recent pair of crime films have a somewhat myopic view of lesbianism that proudly centre queer identities yet trade in certain stereotypes along the way -as though portraying lesbians in a positive protagonist light in general gives licence to characterize lesbian culture and aesthetics with less nuance. This is evident in Honey Don’t across several scenes that feel the need to openly emphasize, to both characters in-movie and the audience, that Honey O’Donahue (Margaret Qualley) “likes girls” while also portraying her consciously in ways that subvert aspects of cultural femininity. The kind of things that would be expected or even appreciated in the 1980s or 90s, but feel like a gimmick or borderline fetishization today. In 2025 a lesbian character is not all that taboo, but Coen and Cooke seem to think it is.
It’s far from the only awkward problem with Honey Don’t, Ethan’s second movie without his brother Joel, and further supporting evidence that he is just not the same calibre of filmmaker on his own. Drive-Away Dolls could have been a fluke, Honey Don’t is the beginnings of a pattern. There is still familiar Coen juice in the tank in terms of its tone and storytelling idiosyncrasies, but it is delineated, less developed -feeling like a Coen copycat more than a genuine Coen movie. In a sense, perhaps it is.
Set in Bakersfield, California in a contemporary time that is constantly cosplaying as a bygone era, Honey O'Donahue is a private detective called to the scene of a fatal car accident of a client who was connected to a local prosperity gospel sect called The Four-Way, led by the corrupt Reverend Drew (Chris Evans), using the organization as a drug trafficking front. As Honey investigates with the aid of a police liaison called MG Falcone (Aubrey Plaza), Reverend Drew conspires to hide any links to the victim, which ironically enough involves a few more murders.
The movie proceeds along two parallel tracks related to the murder that only occasionally intersect -in a manner somewhat similar to the Coens' Burn After Reading. Reverend Drew's machinations are illustrated well before he is of interest to the case, endeavouring to get ahead of it connecting to him, while Honey's story remains for the most part invested in cracking it. Yet both are rather aimless in their plotting, with much of the Reverend's section of the film taken up by blunt illustrations of his empty proselytizing and hypocrisy, particularly his licentiousness and sexual exploitation of his followers. And the violence enacted on his behalf feels so distant as to also be meaningfully hollow. While Honey's trajectory, though more focused on the inciting incident, is beset with digressions into her romance with MG and her relationship with her sister's family -and notably a rebellious niece Corinne (Talia Ryder). It is a very patchy film with regards to its narrative, as though Coen has a mere set of subjects he wishes to tackle and messily strung them all together -lesbianism, religious corruption, drug violence, estranged family dynamics (Honey's father shows up looking for reconnection to promptly disappear after one scene in an overly-elaborate illustration of a very simple point); even little bits of dim political class comment, such as in Corinne's abusive trailer park boyfriend being a Trump supporter. And while this haphazard approach has worked wonders for Coen before, most notably on The Big Lebowski, the material is just so tepid and dry in this film.
Qualley is stronger here than she was in Drive-Away Dolls however. In both instances she plays to a caricatured archetype, but here she tempers her accent and injects a little more naturalism into her gumshoe character. It comes into some conflict with the writing which is more emotionally harsh towards her than she is willing (or able) to play -especially with regards to the relationship with MG, which in general could have been developed beyond its principally lust-infused overtones (their meet-cute at a bar is certainly ...unconventional). Evans meanwhile delivers perhaps his hammiest performance to date, dialing up the skeevy villain energy that has become a signature of his since Knives Out and pairing it with a kind of dull amorality that, like so much else in the movie, feels old hat. Plaza is a little let down through much of the script, one-note beyond a vaguely troubled backstory that comes back in a bewildering context late in the movie. Eventually her performance is allowed to be stretched though only through a cynical, poorly manufactured plot development that does what little engagement was fostered for her a disservice. There's also a calculating French liaison of Reverend Drew played by Lera Abova and a police officer associate of Honey's played by Charlie Day, whose 'quirk' -apart from his cheesy film noir inflections- is that he doesn't take Honey's sexuality seriously, and keeps casually hitting on her. Again, Coen fails to understand the modern sociology around lesbianism. It is not a novel concept, and a buffoonish attitude like this is not comedically resonant.
The pacing is quite rushed to the detriment of the characters and the mystery -while Honey is portrayed as a highly competent sleuth, we don't get to see her particular deductive skills in action very much. Indeed there is an argument the film half-makes that she isn't actually very good at her job as she spends considerable time chasing a red herring. But of this, what might resemble a clever twist renders a large section of plot incongruous, only connected by the thinnest of thematic overlays. It feels dropped late into the movie for its own sake, exposing other story priorities as even more simple grievances of Coen's and Cooke's; and while there is some insanity to the resolution it nonetheless feels dim and hollow.
And there isn't a better way to describe the movie wholesale. Coen's filmmaking experience and character weaves its way in and keeps the movie aesthetically engaging enough -in particular his opening credits are quite fun and stylish; and his characteristic humour still finds its way into the personalities on-screen, even if it lacks the same novel charm it used to have -the actors do a decent job communicating it. In many ways it is reminiscent of early Coen movies. But this only emphasizes the out-of-step sensibility that Honey Don't can't suppress. The meandering presentation, blunt sexual connotations and fury at the prosperity gospel machine might have fit in better or read as more unique some decades ago. But now it is quaint and toothless at best, shallow and naive at worst. It is telling that the note the movie ends on seems more interesting than most of the mystery that preceded it; and if the third in Coen and Cooke's 'lesbian B-movie trilogy' is any similar, the reflection of Ethan as the dimmer, more dependent Coen brother will be hard to shake.
Support me on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/JordanBosch
Follow me on Bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/jordanbosch.bsky.social
Letterboxd: https://letterboxd.com/jbosch
Twitter: https://twitter.com/Jordan_D_Bosch
Comments
Post a Comment