I really enjoyed Drive-Away Dolls, the new Ethan Coen film he made with his wife and editor, Tricia Cooke, instead of his usual filmmaking partner, his brother, Joel Coen. It’s a deliberately loose, raunchy romp about a pair of lesbian friends who go on a wild road trip from Philadelphia, to Tallahassee. Their vehicle is a rental “drive-away” car transported one way to a destination drop-off point. This one turns out to contain sinister-looking packages that seemingly belong to a couple of violent goons who are soon hot on their trail.

I admit I was biased in favor of Drive-Away Dolls. I love the Coen worldview, which involves an irreverent, darkly comedic outlook on life. Their favorite genres, judging by their entire film career, are screwball comedy and film noir, which are also my favorite genres.

And I’m also desperately sick of the dumb, lugubrious, ideologically nauseating state of American cinema. We see so many overlong, overproduced, stupid yet heavily self-serious films, a number of which are being celebrated this awards season. Tired superhero movies and bland, dishonest biopics are churned out ad nauseam.