Lesbian Private Investigator Investigates a Christian Sex Cult

If someone were asked to paint an American city away from the coasts, it would probably look like this: oil-producing towers, lovingly nicknamed “nodding donkeys” that steadily pump fossil energy upward. Wide streets, single-story buildings with plain façades, signs that are only half legible, gigantic billboards, a car repair shop, flickering neon signs, churches broadcasting their motivational messages and service times on a big board. All somehow dreary, out of date, bone-dry, unfriendly.
In exactly such a town lives Honey O’Donahue. A name far too glamorous for this nondescript California city. And a woman who, in her red dress, always-high heels, and perfectly curled hair, draws every gaze. If the pictures haven’t made it clear yet that this isn’t a pleasant place, the intro song does the job for you: “We gotta get out of this place.”

The Desire for Sex Is in the Air

So there, lesbian private investigator Honey O’Donahue (Margaret Qualley) sits in her wood-paneled office. She has little to do because a client fails to show up to the first appointment. She had a car accident. But was it really an accident? Her instinct nudges her to pursue the matter. In her metallic blue convertible she begins her investigation.
The bumbling detective isn’t particularly helpful either. He’s nice to her mainly because he wants her phone number. She’s told him many times that she’s into women. His colleague MG Falcone (Aubrey Plaza) is the more reliable source. And she’s also sexy. At their date there’s a palpable lust and the longing for sex in the air. So at the bar they don’t linger long.

Underdeveloped Characters — and Yet Entertaining
Director Ethan Coen has done it again: after Drive-Away Dolls, Honey Don’t (Amazon affiliate link) is the second installment in a planned queer B-movie trilogy. He has stayed true to his core setup: Margaret Qualley as the lead, carrying a pulp-film vibe. But this time he takes it even further.

The Double Standards Rule Here, Too
That’s because Ethan Coen — who co-wrote the screenplay with his queer partner Tricia Cooke — can distinguish very precisely between bad and cheap. The dildo jokes are cheap, but not necessarily bad. The violence scenes are exaggerated and revel in the raw, unnecessary brutality — but they’re not inherently bad either. Above all, the editing often endows the scenes with extra meaning.
And the way the clues lead the investigator Honey fairly quickly to a cultish sex-sect does have a certain charm. And perhaps even a political message: No, the metropolises on the East and West Coasts aren’t inherently corrupted — or not only they are. The double standards also rule here.

The Last Third Feels Like a Rough Cut

And yet not everything in Honey Don’t fits: with several subplots, you can quickly sense what function they’re meant to serve in the end. Overall the film feels overloaded and ties together the many loose threads only inadequately — it comes off as unfinished, especially in the final third, almost like a rough cut. That can be frustrating, and it might leave you puzzled at the end, wondering: Is that really it?
But: the neo-noir comedy has some smart ideas and dares to push boundaries, especially regarding lesbian representation. The film is wild, over the top, ultra stylish, far from perfect — and it’s very likely it would never want to be anything else.