We have sadly lost the art of the B-movie, since no one seems to view them as being entirely worth our time. The only downside of independent cinema becoming respectful and having increased access to resources is that filmmakers not only lost the spark of resourcefulness that defined these works, but became complacent in appeasing the mainstream, leaving behind the craft that comes with forming a fully-realised work of pure artifice, which are as vital to the development of the medium as the big-budget prestige works, lacking the same epic scope but having just as much ambitious and pure gumption. This is something that Ethan Coen has seemingly found to be quite intriguing, especially when it comes to his specific approach to his craft in the years since he and his brother and usual creative companion Joel Coen, parted ways and started to pursue their own individual projects. It was well done in the deeply underrated Drive-Away Dolls, and has now been followed by a second entry into what Coen and his wife Tricia Cooke intend to be a trilogy. In this instance, we find ourselves introduced to Honey O’Donaghue, a reliable private detective servicing Bakersfield, who also happens to be one of the city’s most eligible bachelorettes, becoming the object of affection for men and women alike, her preference being heavily for the latter. Her beguiling charms place her right in the centre of what is soon revealed to be quite a sinister conspiracy, kick-started by the discovery of a deceased woman in what appears to be a road accident, but eventually proves to be the result of a much deeper set of circumstances, escape from which seems to be nothing if not futile. A film that delivers exactly what it promises (albeit not quite in the way that we may hope, based on the talent involved), Honey Don’t! is solid but conventional in both concept and execution, not quite reaching the heights of Coen’s previous solo work, but still being worth the time as a purely entertaining piece of pulp, if nothing else.

There are essentially two core themes that guide this film as far as narrative threads go, and both of them are interesting in their own way, if not entirely obvious. The first is the detective genre – Coen has always been fascinated by the art of the pastiche, with many of his previous works (with his brother) playing into existing genres in creative and subversive ways. His fondness for paying tribute to the styles that influenced him is clear, which is where we find a lot of the merits that guide Honey Don’t! in terms of establishing a point of view, or rather, the closest approximation to it. There’s something very charming about a story of a private investigator getting caught up in a series of challenges for which they were hopelessly ill-equipped, with the more chaotic the circumstances, the better. This is what guides this film at first, a simple story of someone realising that they overstepped a bit too much, and ultimately find themselves having to scramble to escape before it’s too late, all the while unearthing some secrets that most would prefer to keep hidden. This is complemented by the second theme, which is that of queerness. Previously, Coen had made films that feature characters that exist within the LGBTQIA+ community, but not necessarily all that effectively – they were mostly supporting players. In his collaborations with Cooke (a prominent lesbian activist who uses her art to communicate ideas around contemporary perspectives on queerness), he built stories that directly explore how queer women are not only perceived in terms of modern viewpoints, but also where they are not simply the subject of stereotypes. Honey Don’t is not a perfect film, but its determination to add to an ever-growing canon of films about queer women is fascinating, and while its observations are quite obvious and perhaps slightly shallow (in the sense that the story revolves around a woman who uses her body as much as her mind to solve a mystery), the intentions are far more engaging than we would expect, which lends Honey Don’t a much more nuanced approach to examining these ideas.

Some actors emerge as such singular talents that they manage to fit into the works of just about any director. The jury is still deciding whether or not Margaret Qualley is genuinely talented or simply well-connected, but everything I’ve personally seen from her indicates that she’s extraordinarily gifted and has such a captivating screen presence that can rival any of her contemporaries. Her charm is well-suited to a film like Honey Don’t!, which is built as a vehicle for her very particular style of acting. This is a common trait in many detective films – find an actor who can play a particular role and then construct the film around them, paying attention to highlighting their innate gifts, rather than pushing them outside their comfort zone. It’s not the most exciting or challenging way of writing characters, but it does allow us to easily understand the appeal of such an approach. Qualley is so wonderfully magnetic whenever she appears on screen, having a distinct swagger and manner of carrying herself that anchors the entire film. There are a few other very good performances that do see her supporting cast taking on more challenging parts – Chris Evans is exceptionally as the sleazy pastor who moonlights as a bloodthirsty cult leader (and the only reason we can’t praise him more is because his time on screen is sadly very limited), while the always-reliable Charlie Day and Billy Eichner are also very good, if not quite limited themselves in terms of function to the plot. Unfortunately, Aubrey Plaza is far less effective; the late reveal that she is actually the true villain feels quite lazy, and forcing her so far out of her carefully-curated persona that it becomes quite jarring. Nonetheless, Honey Don’t! is wholeheartedly Qualley’s film, and much like in Drive-Away Dolls (in which she was one part of a two-hander with the lovely but unimpressive Geraldine Viswanathan), she holds our attention long enough to distract from some of the more concerning flaws lingering beneath the surface of the film.

However, as charismatic as Qualley may be, we also find that Honey Don’t! rests too heavily on her star persona to actually be entirely effective. In fact, it can be argued that through hinging everything on the work she is doing, she is inherently at a disadvantage, since nothing else quite reaches the same heights. The problem here is that this film is very much style over substance – but even in that case, it’s not particularly well-made or all that exciting beyond a few interesting setpieces. It’s extremely tacky to try and determine which of the Coen Brothers were responsible for a particular aspect of their collaborations, but its obvious that Ethan Coen didn’t have much of a visual eye, with the aesthetics here being quite bland and lifeless, the bare minimum in a genre that could have been given a far more appropriate tribute in terms of how it was constructed. It is also tonally very inconsistent – it continuously circles subjects that could make for intriguing commentary, but is either too afraid to embrace them, or frankly, very lazy. Coen does focus on allowing this film to clock in at under 90 minutes (which is appreciated, as many filmmakers would have been tempted to elongate such a film by including unnecessary narrative additions), but it all feels very abrupt, the mystery being poorly resolved, and far too many loose ends populate this otherwise quite compelling story. It doesn’t know what it wants to be, and we see this reflected vividly throughout, as Honey Don’t! struggles to elevate itself beyond the most obvious conventions, lacking any real structure or sense of consistency, which unfortunately causes it to falter throughout, losing any semblance of consistency or charm after a while.

Honey Don’t! is not a particularly good film, nor is it one that executes any of its ideas all that effectively. However, it is in acknowledging the clear and frankly inexcusable flaws that we can, quite amusingly, see just how effective this actually was. There is a tendency to assume any film that aims to be a pastiche to a genre or homage to a particular kind of filmmaker needs to be inventive, subversive and daring – and while this is the case with most instances of looking towards previous works for inspiration, this film exists in a genre that was often viewed as lacking respect and often even being entirely enshrouded in disrepute. This is a strong throwback to the trashy, vulgar detective films that were more aligned with the faded pages of pulp fiction novels found embedded in the dust of a long-abandoned bookstore than it is a prestige project, which may have been the entire intention as a whole. It’s mostly reliable, but not all that exciting, and we find it is only halfway effective as a homage to the film noir genre – but it does offer 80 minutes of entertainment, the kind that doesn’t intend to linger with the viewer for much longer than it takes to exit the cinema, which is worth something in itself. The shortcomings are clear and will immediately divide the audience between those who have a fondness for this kind of silly, trivial dark humour, and those who find it frustrating – both are just a matter of perspective, and the film as a whole doesn’t do much to help us choose a side, leaving it entirely to the viewer to determine the extent to which they are willing to allow this film to speak to us. It’s going to be interesting to see how Coen and Cooke conclude this loose trilogy with Go Beavers, but the paltry information we have about it does instil hope that it’ll be something of an improvement on this film.