Honey Don’t!: A Messy Queer but Mischievous Comedy

Ethan Coen is back with Honey Don’t!, the second film in what he and Tricia Cooke are calling their “lesbian B-movie trilogy.” After the mixed reactions to Drive-Away Dolls, I went into this one with cautious curiosity — especially when I saw Margaret Qualley leading the cast again. At first I thought, please, not a sequel to that misfire. But this isn’t a continuation — it’s its own strange, seductive creature. And while the movie has its flaws, I walked out more entertained than expected, equal parts amused, puzzled, and still hopeful for the trilogy’s finale.

The setup is irresistible: Qualley plays Honey O’Donahue, a small-town PI who finds herself unraveling a string of deaths connected to a shady church and its unnervingly charming pastor. Honey is no ordinary detective — she’s part femme fatale, part gumshoe, equal parts cynical and irresistibly playful. Qualley absolutely owns the role, strutting across Bakersfield crime scenes in tailored pantsuits, tossing out one-liners sharp enough to cut glass. She’s captivating to watch, proving again why she’s one of Hollywood’s most exciting young stars.

Then there’s the ensemble cast. Aubrey Plaza, with her signature sly delivery, adds both spark and grounding as MG, a snarky cop who becomes Honey’s romantic foil. Their chemistry isn’t just good — it’s electric, giving the film its emotional and sensual pulse. Chris Evans, gleefully trashing his Captain America image, plays Drew, a corrupt preacher dripping with sleaze and menace. It’s a performance that’s both cartoonish and committed, and even when the character veers into caricature, Evans’ commitment makes him hard to look away from. Charley Day also drops in, bringing his It’s Always Sunny energy to a role that keeps the comedy afloat in the film’s messier stretches.

And messy it is. Coen and Cooke’s script has all the right ingredients — dark comedy, noir intrigue, queer romance, social satire — but the execution often feels scattered. The whodunit backbone is little more than an excuse for Honey to confront suspects, banter, and seduce, while the actual mystery fizzles out into broad sketches rather than sharp revelations. There are stretches where the pacing sags, and the third act especially struggles to hold the tension together. Still, when the film leans into its characters — especially Qualley and Plaza — it delivers genuine laughs, unexpected tenderness, and even a couple of moments that border on the iconic.

What works best about Honey Don’t! is that it puts a queer heroine front and center in a genre that has long treated women — and especially queer women — as side characters, femme fatales, or comic relief. Honey is all of those archetypes and none of them at once. She’s underestimated, judged, sexualized, dismissed, yet always the smartest and sharpest person in the room. Watching her push back against corrupt men, sleazy pastors, and clueless cops is as satisfying as it is funny. And Qualley’s performance nails the balance between tough exterior and vulnerable undercurrent.

Do I wish the story itself had been tighter, darker, more daring? Absolutely. With Coen’s name attached, expectations soar — we all know what kind of precision storytelling he’s capable of. Here, the film often feels like a collage of gags strung together rather than a fully cohesive noir. But compared to Drive-Away Dolls, this one has far more energy, wit, and a protagonist worth rooting for. I laughed — sometimes harder than anyone else in the theater — and I cared about Honey enough to want to follow her into another installment.
So no, it isn’t flawless. It isn’t the return to form Coen fans might crave. But it is fun, weird, sexy, and sometimes surprisingly touching. And in a Hollywood landscape that rarely makes space for queer B-movies with this much personality, I’ll happily take it.

Here’s hoping the third film in this trilogy brings all the pieces together — because if it can match Qualley’s performance, Plaza’s spark, and the raw potential on display here, we might finally get the queer noir comedy classic this series is aiming for.