Written by Marina Coates
Honey Don’t is Ethan Coen’s second entry in a planned trilogy of “lesbian B-movies” co-written with his wife, Tricia Cooke. Coen leans on the noir-pulp style that made his collaborations with brother Joel so distinctive. Although stylistically similar to classic Coen Brothers films such as No Country for Old Men and Fargo, Ethan Coen’s solo efforts capture the look but fall short of the same narrative sharpness.
Honey Don’t! centers around Honey O’Donahue (Margaret Qualley), a private investigator whose recent clients keep ending up dead. Her investigation leads her to look into the connections these deaths have with a local church led by Reverend Drew Devlin (a perfectly cast Chris Evans), whose ministry doubles as a drug operation and whose sermons are just a little too focused on submission (especially considering the California king he has hidden in the backroom of his church). Honey also has to juggle her troubled niece (Talia Ryder), a chaotic family situation, and a steamy romance with no-nonsense cop MG (Aubrey Plaza). At just 89 minutes, the film is packed with subplots — but Coen rarely allows them to breathe.
Tonally, Honey Don’t! wobbles between campy pulp and noir mystery. At times it embraces the “B-movie” promise with wry humor and lurid scenarios; at others, it seems to reach for something more serious. That tension isn’t always intentional, and it leaves the film feeling unsure of itself. The performances go a long way in keeping things afloat. Qualley is magnetic as Honey—sharp, seductive, and filling the shoes of a classic noir P.I. perfectly—while the rest of the cast is equally compelling, but the script never gives them enough to fully develop their roles.
Honey Don’t! initially seems to take place at least 30 years ago—that is, until one of Honey’s clients (Billy Eichner) informs her, “COVID is still around,” as he cleans off his chair with a Clorox wipe. Managing to balance the retro feel of the film with modern technology is probably Coen’s greatest feat. Honey’s affinity for Rolodexes, her baby blue convertible, and mid-century design, coupled with the muted postcard aesthetic of the shots, make Honey Don’t! feel almost timeless. Lesson learned: if you’re going to set a film simultaneously in the 1970s and 2025, Bakersfield is the perfect place to do it.
Beyond the stunning visuals and the star power of Qualley, Plaza, and Evans, Honey Don’t doesn’t have much else to offer its viewers. Coen and Cooke offer many compelling characters and plotlines, and on their own they’re quite interesting—there’s some very Coen-esque death scenes, great character set-ups, and compelling mysteries—but they fail to tie them all together (and leave several unresolved). For all its style, Honey Don’t! leaves too many storylines hanging and too many questions unanswered. The result is a film that looks like a Coen classic but lacks the narrative bite we’ve come to expect.
