Two lesbians go on a road trip, unaware that their drive-away car contains stolen goods. They’re pursued by a ruthless gang of crooks as they travel from Philadelphia to Florida. The screenplay, by Tricia Cooke and director Ethan Coen, gives equal screen time to the heroines and criminals. Drive-Away Dolls is edited like a comedy but is rarely funny. We get gruesome violence, cartoonish sex and a steady stream of chatter. We don’t get jokes. The film is no Some Like it Hot.

Things work best when the leads, wild Margaret Qualley and deadpan Geraldine Viswanathan, are on screen. Qualley loves sex and talks about it constantly. Viswanathan would rather discuss the novels of Henry James. Their dynamic parallels that of comedies like Booksmart and Bottoms. In fact Booksmart’s Beanie Feldstein is here as a violent police officer. She’s introduced punching her ex-girlfriend in the eye. It’s treated like a gag. Your mileage may vary.

The film drags when it follows the dull villains. Colman Domingo, Joey Slotnick and C.J. Wilson play calm, anxious and brooding respectively. They’ll summon memories of past Coen films. Yet never do anything interesting of their own. A nameless assassin makes a stronger impression in the opening scene. He is never mentioned again.

Drive-Away Dolls runs a brisk 84 minutes.  Very little happens till the rushed third act. The women eventually learn of the danger they’re in. But are robbed of agency. Don’t expect comic hijinks or action-heroics. The finale feels arbitrary.

Drive-Away Dolls was snubbed by critics and audiences alike this weekend. If you’re looking for a raucous comedy you can skip this. If you want to watch likeable actresses hang out then stream it in a few weeks. I’ll end with a shout out to Intimacy Coordinator Chelsea Pace. Key love scenes have an honesty that the rest of the film lacks.

You can find more of my reviews on The Avocado, Letterboxd and Serializd. My podcast, Rainbow Colored Glasses, can be found here.