Drive-Away Dolls

Drive Away Dolls gets some mileage out of trying to subvert expectations.

It's a mixed-bag of some very familiar stuff... Like a watered-down "Greatest Hits" collection.

Terrible... This is the least fun I've had with a Coen associated-movie since Burn After Reading.

With only one brother in the driver’s seat, this is a sex comedy with the consciously artificial, smart-dumb patter of an old Steve Martin movie. Yet, ushered in alongside is Coen’s partner and longtime collaborator Tricia Cooke...

The film has a boisterous energy, but it’s puerile, phoney and frequently rather cringe.

No good will can wholly brush away the ersatz hokeyness of this venture. It’s as if The Beatles managed to release a record by Herman’s Hermits.

Along with similar beats we have seen before from both the Coens, along with very random psychedelic moments that only sort of make sense at the end, Ethan Coen’s film feels familiar but doesn’t quite hit the right notes.

Drive-Away Dolls wants to be the great American lesbian road picture. It almost gets there.

The film's biggest flaw is its lack of relatable or compelling characters. Much of the runtime is spent on the girls' road trip banter, which had potential but ultimately falls flat.

The dialogue is witty and highly entertaining, and Qualley and Viswanathan are firing on all cylinders.