★★★★☆
Lilian T. Mehrel’s Honeyjoon is a family dramedy that takes a deeper look into grief, life, and family tensions.
Mehrel writes and directs this mother-daughter dramedy in a way that offers a different look into the lives of characters we have seen before. While the concept itself isn’t new—a mother and daughter bonding over a trip together—the way in which it is executed is.
June and her mother, Lela, take a mini vacation to a destination island during the week of the one-year anniversary of June’s father and Lela’s husband’s death to spread a lock of his hair in the place where he was happiest. The same place he went after his own father died.
While the script is more story-driven than character-driven, being less of a character study and more of an enlightening comedic tale of bonding and discovering the truth in life, Mehrel’s script offers just enough developmental moments throughout to allow the characters to flourish without ever feeling underdeveloped.
“Honeyjoon discovers humor in grief without ever losing sight of the pain.”
Playing the comedic aspects in just the right tone—grounded, realistic, and humorous—the approach almost feels like a sex comedy, in a sense, because there are far more hormonal and sexual jokes than I would have expected from a film of this magnitude.
However, the delivery is key, along with the undertones and almost symbolic meaning hiding in plain sight. Focusing on the mother-daughter dynamic, the film is also very political, using not only June’s sexuality—or should I say her endless desire for sexual gratification and lack of sexual fulfillment. The constant references to women being killed over dress codes and arrested for dancing in the Middle East transform June’s carefree pursuit of sex into something much more political than it first appears, creating a striking contrast between two very different realities.
The film feels and plays almost like a more mature and established version of American Pie, if it were focused on Jim and his dad’s relationship. Offering elements of a sex comedy, but through a more sophisticated and political lens.
Mehrel’s vision in the director’s chair is a serious factor in why this film works and how it manages to stay on the beaten path. There is a moment in the film where the shtick starts to run its course—June trying to get laid and flirting with every guy she sees—and it’s almost as if Mehrel noticed it herself while writing the script, because it pivots rather quickly, but naturally.
The transition feels intentional, becoming a bigger part of the story rather than merely trying to undo what has already been done. Revealing a much larger story arc and an important character moment.
Yet the evidence is there from the start that there was a clear and intentional vision for both the film and its characters.
“Mehrel knows exactly when to let the comedy give way to something more meaningful.”
From the opening shot, Inés Gowland’s cinematography has intent, purpose, and a clear vision, becoming an essential part of crafting the film exactly the way it was intended by its writer-director.
Using grainy imagery to open the film, capturing the landscapes, the island, and the sea as a way of showcasing the story’s emotional intentions before they are ever spoken.
Crafting other shots to imitate formats such as TikTok videos and iPhone footage allows parts of the film to be showcased from different perspectives, enriching the way the story is told.
Capturing some of the most beautiful shots of the landscape, sea, and beaches, Gowland uses the backgrounds as tonal work, framing each shot just right so the scenery slowly comes to the forefront without ever allowing it to overpower the people occupying the frame.
There is one shot that is not only perfection, but something that won’t be admired enough. The moment when June stands on the hotel patio, with the beach and sea reflected in the glass door, is simply stunning. Easily one of the best shots in the film.
“Every frame serves the story, never simply the scenery.”
With an incredible score by Retail Space, the composing duo of Isabelle and Jacob Rosse deliver a soundtrack that is subtle and precise. Never overpowering the film, yet always delivering exactly what each scene needs.
Both Ayden Mayeri and Amira Casar give tremendous performances. While the ability to show tremendous range and depth isn’t always written into the script, both embody these characters, bringing a certain life to them that simply cannot be read from a line on the page.
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