Ethan Coen goes solo for a raunchy, silly comedy-thriller.
When the Coen brothers announced back in 2021 that they were taking a temporary break from working together, the anguished wails of film nerds could be heard around the world. It wasn’t anything personal – indeed, they’ve reportedly reunited to work on a horror movie – but rather just a desire to do their own thing separately for a little while. Their time apart resulted in two very different projects: Joel’s critically acclaimed The Tragedy of Macbeth, and now, Ethan’s Drive-Away Dolls, a good-naturedly raunchy crime caper that occasionally flounders under the weight of stale, fetishy stereotypes.
The film opens with a gruesome death and a briefcase that needs to make its way from Philadelphia to Tallahassee. Also about to hit the road south are a pair of friends, brash, free-spirited Jamie (Margaret Qualley) and buttoned-up, bookish Marian (Geraldine Viswanathan). Marian wants to pay her aunt a visit, while Jamie, kicked out of her apartment by her fed-up girlfriend (Beanie Feldstein), has nothing better to do and goes along for the ride, hoping to loosen up Marian along the way..
Putting aside the fact that there’s no way in hell these two would ever be friends in real life, they set off in a drive-away vehicle, which they believe they’re being paid to take to Tallahassee. It’s soon discovered, however, that the car, which, unbeknownst to the girls, contains some very personal items in the trunk, was given to them accidentally. While Jamie and Marian bond on their trip (and Jamie hooks up with women at seemingly every stop along the way), fast on their heels is a pair of goons looking to take back what belongs to their very important client.
There’s “high concept,” and then there’s “Two lesbians go on a road trip, hijinks ensue.” But really, there isn’t much more to Drive-Away Dolls than that. Some of the hallmarks of Coen Brothers comedy are there, particularly in its rat-a-tat, occasionally arch dialogue, and most especially in its collection of colorful supporting characters, including Feldstein, Colman Domingo as a put-upon fixer, Joey Slotnick as a gregarious henchman, and Bill Camp as Curlie, the laconic drive-away service owner, who gets what might be the best line of dialogue in the entire movie.
Qualley and Viswanathan also make for a charming duo, Speaking in a cartoonishly broad, allegedly Texas accent, Qualley steals nearly every scene she’s in, while Viswanathan shines in the less showy straight woman (well, sort of) role. Their characters’ third act shift from friends to lovers feels a bit forced, but they have genuine chemistry together, even if they’re ill-served by a bare-bones plot.
At just 84 minutes long, there’s not an ounce of fat on Drive-Away Dolls, and it occasionally suffers for it. Beyond the disappointingly anticlimactic ending, while Jamie and Marian are likable enough characters to be interested in what happens to them, there’s no real sense of who they are as people. All we really know about Jamie is that she’s gay and promiscuous, while Marian, in contrast, is gay but practically celibate. That’s it, we don’t know how they met, how long they’ve been friends, or any other relevant information that might flesh them out. It’s a credit to Qualley and Viswanathan that they come off as anything other than thumbnail sketches.
Also, while it’s overall an entertaining, amusing movie, it does make one wonder if a 66 year-old straight man is the best person to be making a movie about twentysomething lesbians. While Coen’s writing partner (and wife), editor Tricia Cooke, identifies as queer, there’s something undeniably male-gazy about how lesbian sexuality is portrayed here, particularly in the near-obsessive focus on both the procuring and using of dildos. Dildos so often play a part in either the plot, or in various sight gags, that it feels like you’re being hit in the face with one after a while.
There’s also the matter of some so-old-they’re-collecting-dust stereotypes, like a reference to first-wave feminist Bella Abzug, Qualley and Feldstein sharing ownership of a dog named after Alice B. Toklas, and a college soccer team consisting of mulleted, beefy women who pass each other around at a make-out party like chips and dip. Also, I refuse to believe that in 1999 (when the film is arbitrarily set) a bunch of college-age women would be making out with each other to the music of Linda Ronstadt. Surely they could have swapped that out for Tori Amos or The Indigo Girls, for the sake of accuracy.
Nevertheless, as a road trip movie coasting almost entirely on the charm of its stars, Drive-Away Dolls works. While far from Ethan Coen’s finest moment, it’s funny enough to get through the winter doldrums. If nothing else, some recognition for the dildo industry is long overdue.
Drive-Away Dolls opens in theaters February 23rd.