To know love is to know sacrifice. It’s a beautiful thing, on paper at least, but in practice, what we’re willing to sacrifice for those we love is a slippery slope. At what point does love become destructive rather than restorative, asking you to give up countless parts of yourself for someone as they watch your body wither away? This question lurks in the background of Madeleine Sims-Fewer and Dusty Mancinelli’s sophomore feature, Honey Bunch, hiding in the shadows of their 1970s horror-inspired nightmare that interrogates love, memory, and bodily autonomy.
Previously, Sims-Fewer and Mancinelli burst onto the genre scene with their devastating feature film debut, Violation, which rewrote the rape-revenge film into something much quieter and yet more violent. But with Honey Bunch, Sims-Fewer and Mancinelli have lept squarely into genre territory, eschewing the dark yet critically important vibes of Violation and adopting a more whimsical yet threatening tone to craft their story about a young couple and their desire to fix their marriage.
Diana (Grace Glowicki) has recently woken up from a coma that’s left her with memory loss and a healing hip. Desperate for help, she and her husband, Homer (Ben Petrie), head to the woods to an experimental facility that promises they can fix her through a strict regimen of therapy, diet, and exercise. Once they fix her, everything in their marriage should be fine! So, they pack up and head to what looks like a castle in the middle of the New England forest. These are all the genre trappings of a Bad Place with Bad Vibes where Nothing Good Will Happen.
Of course, Sims-Fewer and Mancinelli know that we know that as they playfully and lovingly craft an opening that would be right at home in the 1970s, complete with flute score, mute color palettes, and emphasized zooms that only emphasize the film’s early playfulness. They’re setting us up to expect one thing, only to show us something completely and utterly different.
But before the twist, the filmmaking duo and DP Adam Crosby painstakingly craft something that would play perfectly with The Stepford Wives or even Don’t Look Now. As Diana and Homer meet the new residents, father-daughter duo Joseph (Jason Isaacs) and Josephina (India Brown), or undergo another treatment with Farah (Kate Dickie), the film’s dread builds and builds towards that climax, weaving a web of memories and disturbing images that plague Diana as she wanders through the estate. But don’t worry; this isn’t another story about a mad woman and her abusive husband. I promise it goes much deeper than that.
Glowicki is a star, recently stunning audiences in Mary Dauterman’s Booger and her own directorial effort Dead Lover. Here, with blunt bangs and perfectly 70s wool skirts, Glowicki looks like the typical 1970s wife, but never acts like one. She and Petrie are entwined like two cats in a sunspot, comfortable for a while, but quick to start a fight if someone disturbs the peace. The role expands into something unlike what we’ve seen from Glowicki and further proves her prowess and skill as a performer with absolutely no fear.
Sims-Fewer and Mancinelli once again pen a beautiful script that fluidly navigates memory and the perception of time, emphasizing the power of memory but also the power of someone manipulating memory. Yes, our minds are our own, but what happens when someone tries to take that very thing away? Insert “Where Is My Mind?” by The Pixies here. The writers understand the horrors of memory (as seen in Violation) and they continue to play with such a concept here.
My biggest issue with Honey Bunch is most likely due to my 2025 attention span: the first half is a bit too meandering, especially after a massive tonal shift later in the film. On one hand, I understand this is well within the spirit of 1970s horror film, burning low and slow; never boring, just quiet. It’s an aesthetic they’ve committed to and I commend them for their dedication because it does ultimately pay off. However, that slow burn feels repetitive in the first act as we watch Diana struggle to regain her memories; it creates almost a sense of impatience as you want to know exactly what’s going on. And perhaps that just speaks to my own viewing tendencies rather than with Honey Bunch itself.
Just as Violation was full of rage, Honey Bunch is filled with grief, a kind of grief that starts as an ember and slowly transforms into a wildfire that consumes your body and soul. It’s the feeling of being so in love, but knowing something isn’t quite right, a nagging at the back of your head that you brush off as part of your own insecurities. It’s the grief of falling out of love. While the film’s second half swings for the genre fences, it never loses sight of the broken, beating heart at the center of Honey Bunch, one yearning for something you can never get back.
And yet, despite that grief, Glowicki and Petrie also capture a small glimmer of joy that never goes out, no matter how weird the story gets. With Honey Bunch, Sims-Fewer and Mancinelli display not only a command of the genre, but of nuanced portrayals of love in its countless forms. And ultimately, that makes this mishmash of genres, influences, and styles, its own beautiful act of love.
Honey Bunch is filled with grief, a kind of grief that starts as an ember and slowly transforms into a wildfire that consumes your body and soul.
Summary
With Honey Bunch, Madeleine Sims-Fewer and Dusty Mancinelli display not only a command of the genre, but of nuanced portrayals of love in its countless forms.
Categorized:Reviews
