“Honey Don’t!”

“Honey Don’t!” Review: The Cult Hit That’s Just One Prayer Away from a Netflix Bidding War

If you’ve ever wondered what would happen if Captain America took a hard left turn into televangelism, Aubrey Plaza hosted a noir-themed bake sale, and Margaret Qualley solved crimes using only her cheekbones and a trench coat—well, bless your heart. Your oddly specific prayers have been answered. Honey Don’t! is the fever dream lovechild of Ethan Coen’s solo filmmaking sabbatical and a Hollywood casting session that said, “What if sexy, sad, and sacrilegious shared a three-bedroom Airbnb in Bakersfield?”

Let’s dive into the plot before it gets baptized and drowns.

Margaret Qualley stars as a bisexual private investigator so stylish she makes trench coats look like haute couture. She’s on the trail of a shady church that somehow employs Chris Evans as a charismatic cult leader who’s giving off major “Sunday Service meets OnlyFans” energy. Aubrey Plaza, naturally, is either helping or hindering depending on how dead herpan is at any given scene.

It’s Not a Cult, It’s a Cannes Screening

The film’s biggest twist? It’s not actually a satire of cults—it is a cult. The Midnight Screening at Cannes sealed the deal. Viewers emerged wide-eyed and muttering Coen-isms like, “I don’t know what I saw, but I feel changed… and possibly aroused.”

And like all great cults, the costumes are excellent.

Chris Evans Preaches the Gospel of Abs

Evans plays the preacher with the kind of smoldering gravitas normally reserved for high-end cologne commercials. It’s a bold choice, especially for those who remember him as America’s wholesome hero. Now he’s peddling redemption with pelvic thrusts and liturgical jazz hands. A New York Times critic called it, “The Sermon on the Abs.”

The youth group is shook.

Aubrey Plaza, Patron Saint of Ambiguity

Plaza wanders through the film like a cross between a reluctant exorcist and a woman who just found out her oat milk expired. Her delivery is so dry it could be raked into a Zen garden. Every line she delivers feels like an inside joke whispered through a séance. She makes mystery feel like a Craigslist ad gone slightly demonic.

Margaret Qualley: Noir But Make It Fashion

If Veronica Mars got a Vogue cover, you’d have Qualley’s PI. Her investigative tools include wit, sass, and a collection of coats that would make Carmen Sandiego spiral into an identity crisis. By the third act, she’s seduced a nun, broken into a rectory, and emotionally outwitted the entire church finance committee.

Sherlock Holmes could never.

Coen Without Coen: Ethan’s Solo Vision Quest

Ethan Coen, operating without his usual brotherly ballast, turns in a film that critics are calling “bizarre,” “unexpected,” and “the best lesbian noir since Google added safe search.” Fans of the Coen brothers will recognize the stylized chaos. Newcomers may just sit there Googling “What is this movie and why is it arousing?”

Bakersfield: Hollywood’s New Sin City

Setting the story in Bakersfield is a bold and possibly illegal choice. But it works. The smog, the heat, the creeping sense of existential dread—it’s the perfect stand-in for a spiritual crisis. Think of it as “Fargo meets meth meets humidity.”

Lesbian Noir: Finally, a Subgenre for You and Your Ex

Honey Don’t! is dripping with sexual tension, eyeliner, and bisexual lighting. It’s one of the only noir films where the femme fatale and the detective both leave lipstick on the same wine glass. Film Twitter is already making zines about it.

Academia is catching up too—Harvard just offered a minor in Coen Studies with a focus on “Witchy Plotlines and Canonical Thirst.”

Billy Eichner and Charlie Day: Agents of Divine Chaos

Charlie Day plays a confessional junkie with secrets so insane they make QAnon seem like book club. Billy Eichner shows up as a disgruntled ex-choir boy turned Yelp reviewer of exorcisms. Together, they provide enough comic relief to qualify for sainthood—or at least a spin-off.

Stylized Violence: Bless This Mess

Heads roll. Literally. But in Coen tradition, the blood spatter is choreographed like interpretive dance. Each act of violence is accompanied by jazz flute or an ironic hymn. The climactic shootout takes place during a communion bake sale. Let’s just say no snickerdoodle survived.

Retro Aesthetic, Modern Hormones

The 1940s noir style drapes the film like a vintage slip dress—smoky, sultry, and one scene away from a corset monologue. But don’t be fooled: the script references Instagram, deconstruction TikToks, and whatever the hell a “Christrance” playlist is.

Yes, there’s a playlist.

Mystery, Intrigue, and a Hint of Heresy

The plot twists like a sermon told by someone who forgot their notes and started improvising theology. Is the preacher a fraud? A prophet? A really buff illusionist with Wi-Fi access? We may never know. But we will stay for the post-credits scene which teases a sequel called Honey Hell Yes.

Critically Confusing = Commercially Viral

Some critics adored it. Others walked out demanding a priest. A few asked, “Was this just an elaborate joke about organized religion and brunch?” But one thing’s for sure: nobody forgot it. And in the era of infinite scroll, that’s as close to divine intervention as it gets.

Streaming Will Save This Sainted Sin-Fest

As soon as this hits streaming, the cult is going full digital. Think: reaction videos, TikTok fan edits, subreddit theological debates, and Etsy shops selling faux church merch. “Holy Water… But Make It Sparkling.”

Even HBO’s algorithm has declared it “blasphemously bingeable.”

Conclusion: Take Me to Church, But Only if It’s Cinematic

Honey Don’t! is not just a movie—it’s a lifestyle. It’s a spiritual reckoning dressed in a trench coat, swinging incense and plot twists. Somewhere between satire and sacrament, this film reminds us that faith, like cinema, is best when it’s slightly unhinged and very well lit.

So go ahead—confess your curiosity and indulge. Just don’t drink the communion wine… it’s probably spiked with irony.

Rating: 4.5 out of 5 Saint Aubrey Side-Eyes
Disclaimer: No real cults were harmed in the making of this review, though several brunch menus were radically deconstructed.

Stand-Up Comedy Guide: How to Write Jokes About Honey Don’t!

Before we get into the funny, let’s set the stage.

Background: What Honey Don’t! Is (and Isn’t)

Honey Don’t! is the new fever dream from Ethan Coen—yes, one-half of The Big Lebowski sibling duo, but this time riding solo like a noir cowboy on an acid trip. Starring Margaret Qualley, Chris Evans, and Aubrey Plaza, it’s a lesbian noir road trip satire that mixes detective pulp fiction, televangelist cult vibes, and Bakersfield malaise.

It’s not just a movie—it’s an aesthetic. It’s the kind of movie where a woman in a trench coat seduces a priest, then slaps a nun, then lights a cigarette with a subpoena. It’s if True Detective got blackout drunk at a Lana Del Rey concert and woke up in Clue: The Bakersfield Edition.

Stand-Up Routine: “Honey Don’t!… But Honey, Maybe Do?”

(Lights up. Comic enters, trench coat over hoodie, sunglasses indoors. Dramatic noir music fades.)

“You guys seen Honey Don’t! yet? No? Great, I’ll explain. It’s a lesbian noir detective film… which means it’s a crime drama where everyone’s emotionally unavailable, but dressed impeccably and possibly bi-curious.”

“I haven’t seen that many people run from the church since I said ‘Jesus was probably chill with weed.’”

Chris Evans plays a cult leader. Which is… not acting. That man could convince me to join a pyramid scheme using only eyebrow raises and shoulder rolls. I was like, ‘YES, Pastor America, I will tithe 15% of my OnlyFans to your holy mission.’”

Margaret Qualley is a private eye who solves mysteries using nothing but fashion and sarcasm. She walks into a room, says something vaguely threatening in heels, and the plot just unravels. If Nancy Drew had a vape pen and three ex-girlfriends, that’s her.”

Aubrey Plaza plays a woman so deadpan she makes Siri sound like she’s trying too hard. Every time she spoke, I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to laugh, cry, or hire a psychic.”

The movie’s set in Bakersfield, which—fun fact—was recently voted Most Likely to Smell Like Gas and Regret.

There’s a scene in the film where the cult holds a revival tent meeting with a fog machine and interpretive dance. I thought I was watching Coachella for Catholics. Like if Burning Man got baptized and called itself Holy Smoke.

They screened this at Cannes during the Midnight Madness slot. Because what better time to watch a movie about seductive nuns and Chris Evans in linen robes than after three martinis and a croissant-based anxiety spiral?

And the violence in this film? It’s not just violence—it’s Coen violence. A guy gets killed with a communion wafer. A woman throws a cross like it’s a ninja star. Quentin Tarantino saw this and said, “Maybe tone it down a notch.”

But the real star of the film? The coats. Every woman in this film wears coats like they’re going to emotionally destroy you over a jazz record. I tried to wear one. I just looked like I got lost on the way to jury duty.

Helpful Content: Writing Stand-Up Based on TV and Film

1. Know the Source Material (but don’t recap it)
You don’t have to explain every plot point. Just set up enough so the audience can follow, then play with the absurdity. Like: “This film is noir. But instead of a man smoking in the shadows, it’s a bisexual woman smoking in your DMs.”

2. Use Character Stereotypes to Your Advantage
Aubrey Plaza? Make jokes about her always looking like she’s judging your aura. Chris Evans? Turn the pretty-boy charm into cult propaganda. Margaret Qualley? Noir Barbie.

3. Exaggerate the Setting
Bakersfield becomes its own punchline. Describe it like the forgotten Sims neighborhood or “the place where dreams go to vape.”

4. Satirize the Genre Tropes
Lesbian noir? Perfect. “It’s a genre where everyone’s suspicious, but mostly of men.”

5. Tag Popular Culture
Compare the film to TikTok trends, Instagram reels, or influencer cults. “This movie is like if a bisexual astrology meme was turned into a feature film.”

6. Build a Comedic Triangle

• The Setup (the absurd truth): “Chris Evans is a cult leader.”

• The Twist (unexpected comparison): “Which makes sense. The man sold sweaters in Knives Out and started a religion.”

• The Tag (additional punch): “I’d let him baptize me with Bath & Body Works water.”

7. Callbacks for Connection
Reference a joke you told earlier about coats, and bring it back. “I wore a trench coat to this screening and now I have two girlfriends and a subpoena.”

Final Thoughts: Laughing at Honey Don’t! Is a Spiritual Journey

Stand-up comedians thrive when they break down what everyone’s thinking, but no one’s saying. Honey Don’t! is filled with juicy material: cults, noir, gender politics, bisexual chaos, Chris Evans’ neckline.

All you have to do is walk into that punchline church, take a sip of ironic holy water, and let the jokes flow.

Now repeat after me:
Honey… DON’T!
…unless you can write 10 minutes of fire about it.