Geraldine Viswanathan as Marian and Margaret Qualley as Jamie in a scene from "Drive-Away Dolls." (Photo credit: Wilson Webb / Working Title / Focus Features.)
As film bros and Joe Moviegoer alike await the release of “Dune: Part Two” with bated breath, they have largely given the cold shoulder to a spattering of other movies trying in vain to find audiences in the first two months of 2024. They run the gamut from acclaimed Oscar rejects (Ava DuVernay's gripping “Origin”) to costly debacles plagued by bad press and a cloud of let's-not-even-hate-watch contempt (more on that below). The Jason Statham-fronted thriller “The Beekeeper” (better than it looks) and “Bob Marley: One Love,” a new biopic about the reggae icon (unseen by me as of this writing), stand out as rare profitable exceptions in what is otherwise a concerning no-man's-land.
Two February releases tell genre-driven tales that put women in the driver's seat of narratives all too often spearheaded by male protagonists. One is a buddy road movie with two lesbian friends seizing the spotlight. The other is the latest attempt by Sony to kickstart its own coterie of Marvel , away from the greedy Mouse, an origin story with shades of Bryan Singer's “X-Men” movies. Did either of them deserve their grim box office fate? Let's find out.
“Drive-Away Dolls”: Jamie and Marian need a change, so they hit the road. Naughty, raunchy and kooky shenanigans ensue. That, in a nutshell, sums up the story of two sapphic besties dealing with the violent patriarchy (cops and criminals alike), horny athletes, an abrasive ex-girlfriend and a crooked politician with a hilarious secret. But it doesn't reflect the easygoing retro vibe that makes this live-action cartoon go down like honey.
Our protagonists, living in Philly circa 1999, are polar opposites that somehow complement each other. Jamie (Margaret Qualley) lets her libido make her decisions, and her latest conquest is too much for her girlfriend Sukie (Beanie Feldstein), a police officer with a chip on her shoulder, to take. Straitlaced, tightly wound Marian (“Blockers'” Geraldine Viswanathan), is tired of her annoying (straight male) co-workers at her office job and dissatisfied with life in general, so she decides to rent a car using a drive-away service in order to visit her aunt in Tallahassee. The freshly dumped Jamie abruptly inserts herself into her solo trip.
C.J. Wilson as Flint, Colman Domingo as The Chief and Joey Slotnick as Arliss in a scene from "Drive-Away Dolls." (Photo credit: Wilson Webb / Working Title / Focus Features.)
Away they go, unaware that the rather inept owner of the rental service (the ubiquitous Bill Camp) has given them the boxy Dodge Aries meant for a couple of goons (Joey Slotnick and C.J. Wilson) tasked with transporting a briefcase filled with unspecified contraband, also to Florida's capital. It's a case of mistaken identities that plays more like screwball comedy fodder than blood-soaked mayhem, through there's some of that, too.
Jamie, her confident swagger bolstered by a heavy Texas drawl, favors frequent detours to explore lesbian bar culture along the way, against the wishes of Marian, who'd much rather curl up with a Henry James novel than socialize. Once they realize they're carrying stolen goods, the two team up to deal with their ballooning underworld dilemma, as a suave gangster played by current Oscar nominee Colman Domingo deals with the incompetence of his jaw-droppingly stoopid henchmen.
“Drive-Away Dolls” mixes two popular nineties subgenres that used to move B-movies off video store shelves: the down-and-dirty crime thriller and the exuberant queer indie. It's in this dual playpen that writer-director Ethan Coen and co-screenwriter Tricia Cooke, his partner in art and in life, jump in with gusto, wielding a budget and even a handful of A-listers that the movies that inspired them could only dream of. Cooke, who identifies as queer, infuses her more grounded (and yes, very queer) sensibility into Coen's goofy, occasionally gruesome sense of humor. Like the mismatched duo piloting this wild ride, the blend should not work yet somehow does. The results suggest what the Wachowskis' “Bound” would have been like as a farce.
Geraldine Viswanathan as Marian and Margaret Qualley as Jamie in a scene from "Drive-Away Dolls." (Photo credit: Wilson Webb / Working Title / Focus Features.)
Coen, directing his first feature without filmmaking partner and sibling Joel, is not afraid to dip his toe in over-the-top gore that recalls Sam Raimi in the eighties and, to a lesser extent, the Coens' own debut feature “Blood Simple.” But there's a distinct laid-back appeal here. It's in the film's playful, gleefully racy sex scenes with undeniable shades of Russ Meyer; it's in the lava-lamp imagery of the segueways between some scenes; and it's in the twinkle in the eye of a front desk employee at a Tallahassee hotel who appears to have walked in from an early Alexander Payne movie. They indicate this isn't your typical B-movie homage.
Amidst the broad odd-couple hijinks, a tender depiction of Jamie and Marian's friendship blooms. When it comes to the young women's personal lives, they begin to stealthily influence each other's behavior, navigating their deepening bond with a nuance and sensitivity that anchors the clever genre-hopping and even injects a political subtext without interrupting the bawdy fun. The fact that Coen and Cooke milk considerable mileage from Linda Ronstadt's “Blue Bayou” cover should tell you all you need to know. Well, that and the film's original title, which had another word for “Dolls” that's either pejorative or empowering depending on who you ask. (Yes, it's exactly the “d” word you're thinking of, and no, the contents of that mysterious briefcase are decidedly not what you're thinking of.)
“Drive-Away Dolls” wallows in the muck yet always feels wholesome despite its “hard R” trappings. Matt Damon and Pedro Pascal pop in, and while it's fun to see the stars in lighthearted cameos, the movie doesn't need their wattage. Coen and Cooke elevate the scuzzy appeal of their disreputable building blocks while still paying tribute to grindhouse fare of past generations, clocking in at just 84 minutes. They've made a romp that's tough on the outside but squishy in the middle. This is primo trash and proud of it, not only great fun, but a great hangout flick and a winning buddy picture. It promises a rowdy time and delivers the goods before it slams on the brakes.
Dakota Johnson as Cassandra Webb in a scene from "Madame Web." (Photo courtesy of Marvel / Sony Pictures.)
“Madame Web”: Do you know what movie was in dire need of some of “Drive-Away Dolls'” lively energy and generosity of spirit? This somnanbulant excuse for a comic book adventure. Should I rip the Band-Aid? I'm going to rip off the Band-Aid. The story of how a sullen, disenchanted New York City paramedic discovers she can foresee future events is a washout, a non-starter, aggressively boring when it's not being conspicuously awful. The social media dust storm that this misbegotten dumpster fire kicked up has begun to settle, but I fear its ripple effects will be felt for a long time to come.
At the center of this funnel cloud of good intentions and poor execution is a phoned-in performance by Dakota Johnson playing the aforementioned first responder, Cassandra Webb. (See? Studying Greek mythology was good for something, after all.) Cassie's mother was researching spiders in the Peruvian Amazon before she was double-crossed by her handsome, power-hungry research partner, Ezekiel Sims (“A Prophet's” Tahar Rahim, picking up a paycheck), circa 1973. Mommie Dearest kicks the bucket moments after childbirth in a scene that feels ripped off from “Avatar.”
Flash forward 30 years, and Cassie has a near-death experience of her own while responding to a crash. She gradually realizes that she can see things before they happen. A neat concept, and if someone with the panache of, say, Sam Raimi was the filmmaker calling the shots, we'd have a real humdinger that would keep audiences on their toes. Sadly, we have to settle for S.J. Clarkson in the director's chair, and the TV vet gives Cassie's visions the most earthbound treatment imaginable, leeching the thrill of disorientation that would have given these scenes their kick.
Isabela Merced as Anya Corazon, Dakota Johnson as Cassandra Webb, Sydney Sweeney as Julia Cornwall and Celeste O'Connor as Mattie Franklin in a scene from "Madame Web." (Photo courtesy of Marvel / Sony Pictures.)
Cassie discovers she's fated to cross paths with and protect three teenage girls: shy and awkward Julia Cornwall (the radiant Sydney Sweeney), the standoffish Anya Corazon (Isabela Merced) and skateboarding trust fund baby Mattie Franklin (Celeste O'Connor). Protect from who, you ask? You already know the answer: Ezekiel, older but still rather hunky, and yet the sex appeal still yields a charisma void. He's convinced the Indigenous people of the Amazon cursed him with knowledge of how he's going to die: at the hands of this teen trio with abandonment issues, at some unspecified future date. (It goes without saying that Sweeney, Merced and O'Connor are all in their twenties and as convincing as you'd expect playing teens, which is not very.)
But revealing this information early in the game saps the life force out of “Madame Web.” The rest of the movie unfolds as one narrow escape after another, with perfunctory action scenes that fail to quicken the pulse, schintzy CGI and automated dialogue replacement, or ADR, so poorly synchronized you'd swear these actors have all been dubbed by other people. Only composer Johan Söderqvist appears to have understood the assignment, using Herrmannesque strings to generate an aura of a falsely accused person on the run from baddies and the law. (Think “North by Northwest,” but with bad visual effects and dialogue in the place of actual tension.)
If the storyline gives you déjà vu, that's because “Madame Web” was released a few months after “The Marvels,” which brings together three superheroes from the Marvel Cinematic Universe: Captain Marvel (Brie Larson), Ms. Marvel (Iman Vellani) and Monica Rambeau (Teyonah Parris). “Web” actually plays like a morose mirror image of “The Marvels,” but even though both productions were plagued with reported behind-the-scenes drama, “Marvels” director Nia DaCosta imbued her adventure with fleet-footed pacing, a colorful palette and a refreshingly featherweight tone. By contrast, Clarkson has crafted the movie that “The Marvels” and, while we're at it, the underappreciated “Wonder Woman 1984” were accused of being.
Celeste O'Connor as Mattie Franklin, Dakota Johnson as Cassandra Webb, Isabela Merced as Anya Corazon and Sydney Sweeney as Julia Cornwall in a scene from "Madame Web." (Photo courtesy of Marvel / Sony Pictures.)
“Madame Web” lumbers from setpiece to setpiece, with a perpetually irritated Johnson acting as she'd rather be anywhere but here. She's an undefatigable guardian who approaches death-defying situations with the energy of a janitor tasked with cleaning up a big mess. (“Really? Another spill to mop up?”) In the face of danger, you get the feeling she's about to ask for the manager but keeps getting interrupted. This underachiever should have been titled “Super Karen.”
Johnson, the daughter of Melanie Griffith and Don Johnson, has gotten a bad rap due to the “Fifty Shades” trilogy (I was underwhelmed by the first one but rather enjoyed Parts 2 and 3; shhh, don't tell anyone). It needs to be pointed out that she's been good in a number of films, including Luca Guadagnino's “A Bigger Splash” and “Suspiria,” as well as the indie sleeper "The Peanut Butter Falcon."
Here, alas, she's checked out from the get-go, and even though Clarkson keeps “Madame Web” just under the two-hour mark, you feel like you've been robbed of more time than that. Much like its vexed vortex of a protagonist, you come away feeling like you've had to pay to babysit a bunch of ungrateful and unruly brats. This sorry Spidey off-shoot has already pegged as an expensive flop, and you can't blame the mall crowds for staying away. It drives you up the wall, and not in a nifty, gravity-defying way.
“Drive-Away Dolls” and Madame Web” are now playing in wide release across South Florida, including Regal South Beach, AMC Aventura, AMC Sunset Place, CMX Brickell City Centre and the Silverspot Cinema in downtown Miami.
