Margaret Qualley had a key supporting role in one of the coolest neo-noirs, 2016’s “The Nice Guys,” so it’s exciting that she’s the lead in “Honey Don’t” (Peacock), playing a hardboiled detective in a ratty desert town. This isn’t quite in her wheelhouse. As private eye Honey O’Donahue, the lines – and the southern accent — come from the page more so than her soul. But of course she still has that Margaret Qualley appeal.
“Honey Don’t” is a recognizably Ethan Coen film; he’s the director and a writer. Tricia Cooke, his wife, co-writes what very much seems like a novel adaptation, but it’s not. The “Fargo” flavor comes through with capital-C characters and bursts of shockingly extreme violence — plus extreme sex that was perhaps behind closed doors in that earlier film.
In this deliberately styled but weirdly incomplete film, these sequences have a blocked-off feel. They’re the story equivalent of special 3D scenes in a 2D movie. “Honey Don’t” is missing connective tissue that would make its striking characters into fully realized people.
“Honey Don’t” (2025)
Director: Ethan Coen
Writers: Ethan Coen, Tricia Cooke
Stars: Margaret Qualley, Aubrey Plaza, Chris Evans
It would’ve played much better as a pilot for a TV series. We are introduced to a corrupt church, led by the scenery-nibbling Chris Evans. It’s a link in a drug-smuggling ring that goes at least to France, since one of the agents is the sexy Chere (Lera Abova). The film does not skimp on showing off its female leads, also including Aubrey Plaza as the police evidence-locker receptionist.
Don’t expect resolutions to everything
Honey is gay, which allows for her to functionally be Mike Hammer without changing anything besides her gender. Her sexual orientation, which would seemingly not be worth discussion in 2025, is remarked upon by the light comedy of Charlie Day’s police detective constantly asking Honey out. She reminds him that she likes girls; it’s her catchphrase. Plenty of scenes show she’s not lying. It’s like the script was dusted off from the sexploitation Seventies, but smartphones were added.
While the “humor” is just Coen’s brand of sardonic flatness, it’s generally a pleasure to watch Qualley, Plaza, Evans, Day and Abova. Visually, “Honey Don’t” is a sumptuous throwback with its rundown buildings and dusty, rusty lives. It’s lensed by Ari Wegner, shooting in New Mexico.
Coen does that crime-movie thing where the detective’s detection feels like an afterthought. The puzzle pieces include the drug-running church, the disappearance of a teen relative, and the return of a figure from the detective’s past. For a while, it’s appealingly understated and old-school.
But even though Honey’s detective work borders on rote, I did want these threads tied up. They are, in a broad sense, yet “Honey Don’t” isn’t a completed puzzle. Some pieces remain scattered, and this is where it feels new-school in the worst possible way, like the writers are too cool to write tropes anymore so instead they write nothing. A major character undergoes an incredible, unearned change.
The film comes off as a shaky prestige TV pilot with a lot of strong elements. I would’ve come back for episode two. But since it is a standalone story, “Honey Don’t” is a frustrating head-scratcher for what it leaves out.