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A Vespa hums into Bakersfield, a church robe hides bondage gear, and a smooth-talking reverend runs a drug ring between sermons about macaroni. We dive into Honey Don’t with a simple litmus test for any detective story: does the protagonist actually want something concrete? When a PI drifts through clues without being hired, breaking in, or deducing much of anything, style and shock have to work overtime. Sometimes they do—there’s a killer dark-comic exchange where the reverend clarifies which “loose end” needs cutting, and a punchy beatdown where Honey demolishes her niece’s abuser and half the set with a stubborn attempt to break a gun. Those moments pop because desire finally drives action.
Most of the time, though, the movie trades plot for “period interest.” Public intimacy scenes and graphic interludes arrive without chemistry or consequence, the police flirtation thread wanders, and tonal flourishes—freeze-frame credits, a lounge pianist narrator, and a congregation chanting “macaroni”—feel like disconnected curios. We contrast that with great shaggy noirs that still hum on character wants. The Big Lebowski may meander, but everyone wants something, and that magnet pulls you through. Here, the late twist that recasts MG as the true monster doesn’t reframe earlier clues so much as overwrite them, draining suspense and turning the finale into a list of facts instead of a reckoning.
We talk craft throughout: how color and quirky detail should feed a throughline; how stakes escalate when choices collide; why romance needs buildup to matter; and how consequence grounds even the wildest genre swings. Bakersfield looks great. Chris Evans chews scenery like a pro. But without a spine of desire and payoff, Honey Don’t plays like a collage—provocative, occasionally funny, and oddly hollow once the noise fades.
If you’re into smart, spirited takedowns of messy movies, queue this one up, then tell us your spiciest take. Subscribe, drop a review, and let us know: did any of it work for you, or are we right to call it a case with no core?
Written lovingly by AI
Be our friend!
Dan: @shakybacon
Tony: @tonydczech
And follow the podcast on IG: @hatewatchingDAT
By Dan Goodsell and Tony Czech3.8
66 ratings
Send us a text
A Vespa hums into Bakersfield, a church robe hides bondage gear, and a smooth-talking reverend runs a drug ring between sermons about macaroni. We dive into Honey Don’t with a simple litmus test for any detective story: does the protagonist actually want something concrete? When a PI drifts through clues without being hired, breaking in, or deducing much of anything, style and shock have to work overtime. Sometimes they do—there’s a killer dark-comic exchange where the reverend clarifies which “loose end” needs cutting, and a punchy beatdown where Honey demolishes her niece’s abuser and half the set with a stubborn attempt to break a gun. Those moments pop because desire finally drives action.
Most of the time, though, the movie trades plot for “period interest.” Public intimacy scenes and graphic interludes arrive without chemistry or consequence, the police flirtation thread wanders, and tonal flourishes—freeze-frame credits, a lounge pianist narrator, and a congregation chanting “macaroni”—feel like disconnected curios. We contrast that with great shaggy noirs that still hum on character wants. The Big Lebowski may meander, but everyone wants something, and that magnet pulls you through. Here, the late twist that recasts MG as the true monster doesn’t reframe earlier clues so much as overwrite them, draining suspense and turning the finale into a list of facts instead of a reckoning.
We talk craft throughout: how color and quirky detail should feed a throughline; how stakes escalate when choices collide; why romance needs buildup to matter; and how consequence grounds even the wildest genre swings. Bakersfield looks great. Chris Evans chews scenery like a pro. But without a spine of desire and payoff, Honey Don’t plays like a collage—provocative, occasionally funny, and oddly hollow once the noise fades.
If you’re into smart, spirited takedowns of messy movies, queue this one up, then tell us your spiciest take. Subscribe, drop a review, and let us know: did any of it work for you, or are we right to call it a case with no core?
Written lovingly by AI
Be our friend!
Dan: @shakybacon
Tony: @tonydczech
And follow the podcast on IG: @hatewatchingDAT

6,180 Listeners