Honey: Review By B. Alan Orange

Hell Mission Statement #39508: Honey

"What are you doing here, Orange?"

"Nothin'. Jerkin' off in my pants, hoping nobody notices the stain."

(What's with all this "star" business? I'm dead for a couple of months and Movieweb gets all fancy on me? I've never been good at gauging how many "stars" a movie should receive. Three and a half? That sounds like I'm recommending this stooge of a film to you; my brethren. God no, never. It's that half a star. It pushes this past Mediocre City right into thumbs-up Ville. If you're heading into Honey on your own accord, you know full well what you're in for: A World of Pain. You want it, and you're going to get it. This is an above-average flick for those that like and worship "Save the Youth Center" cinema, and the "stars" reflect the film's place in that slim genre. Remove it from its cult cupboard and you've got a big fat zero.)

I can see past its painted lips, the Lee press-on nails, those hooker heels, and that cheap weave. This is z grade trash dressed up to look like your mom on prom night. Don't let its thin "high production value" fa