Ethan Coen Takes Us on a Hilarious Road Trip with Drive-Away Dolls
Ethan Coen’s solo fictional directorial debut Drive-Away Dolls is an end-to-end comedy, a road film about two twenty-something lesbians unwittingly ensnared in someone else’s caper, dodging a couple of criminals while growing as people.
Margaret Qualley is Jamie, a free spirit of uncertain employment who we meet while she’s stepping out on her partner, police officer Sukie (Beanie Feldstein). Geraldine Viswanathan is her upright and uptight friend Marian, who works an ambiguous office job where she’s tired of her coworkers as well as the big city (Philadelphia in 1999). After Sukie catches Jamie cheating, gives her a black eye at a bar, and kicks her out of their shared apartment, Jamie tags along on Marian’s road trip to visit her aunt in Tallahassee using Curlie’s (Bill Camp) driveaway service. Their journey of self-discovery is eventually impacted by two goons (Joey Slotnick as Arliss and C.J. Wilson as Flint) working for The Chief (Colman Domingo), who are on their trail to recover some sensitive objects hidden in the car.
Jamie is confident, bordering delusional, with a combination of determination and enthusiasm that in a different movie might prove to be a façade papering over insecurities; here, she’s the genuine article. Her wardrobe and attitude, not to mention Qualley’s put-on but consistent Texan accent, give the impression of a cowboy. All she’s missing is a black hat and a cigar, or a brown hat and a reed between her teeth. Is she Hondo or Tom Sawyer? Meanwhile, Marian is deeply contemplative and quite annoyed with the inconsistencies of other people. A side-quest and underpinning motivation for the happily promiscuous Jamie is to help Marian break a coital dry spell which cyclically contributes to and exemplifies her general tight-woundedness.
Their pursuers serve as a foil, with some of their conversations about social interaction mirroring one another; Chief and Marian even share a literary interest. And yet, while Jamie and Marian have their issues and arguments, they love each other and build each other up while working through their trouble. Chief’s guys are comrades, but their contrasting approaches (Arliss more subtle and Flint more blunt) lead to a hilarious escalating conflict of angrier and angrier arguments.
Drive-Away Dolls is funny all the time. From physical comedy highlighting character traits (an early peak sees Sukie handily and thoroughly battering Flint while carrying on a conversation with the much more polite Arliss) to mannerisms and idiosyncrasies (Curlie especially), as well as comedic scene transitions (like one frame bouncing onto another) complimented by the musical cues—it’s all well-constructed. The comportment of the characters, the things they do and say to each other, give the characters dimensions and history. There is a goofiness of circumstance, fools and jesters brought together because of their employment and other people’s decisions. It’s never stiff or stuffy, but often very smart.