For more than three decades, Joel and Ethan Coen were a cinematic force so tightly knit that many fans and critics described them as two halves of the same creative brain. From the snow-swept crime caper Fargo to the cult classic The Big Lebowski and the Oscar-winning No Country for Old Men, the Coen brothers redefined American film with their razor-sharp wit, offbeat characters, and an unmistakable blend of dark comedy and existential drama. Their movies became touchstones for a generation of moviegoers, and the “Coen Brothers” credit was itself a mark of a certain kind of cinematic brilliance.
So when the duo stopped making movies together after 2018’s unconventional Western anthology The Ballad of Buster Scruggs, speculation ran wild. Was there a falling out? Creative differences? Something more dramatic behind the scenes? As it turns out, the real story is far less sensational—though no less fascinating for fans eager to understand the fate of one of Hollywood’s most beloved partnerships.
In an interview with Collider on August 25, 2025, Ethan Coen finally set the record straight, joined by his wife and frequent collaborator Tricia Cooke. According to Ethan, the so-called “split” between the brothers wasn’t a conscious decision at all, but rather a matter of timing, circumstance, and a little bit of burnout. “Neither of us knew what the other would be doing or not,” Ethan explained. “After the last movie we made together, The Ballad of Buster Scruggs, I was like, ‘I can’t do another one. This is too hard. I’m out.’ And Joel went on to do Macbeth. And then COVID happened, and we were locked down—me and Tricia—and we had the opportunity to do this documentary with all archival footage—and that was kind of great.”
It was that unexpected detour—making a documentary from archival footage during the COVID-19 lockdown—that reignited Ethan’s passion for filmmaking. While Joel dove into his own creative pursuits, including the critically acclaimed adaptation The Tragedy of Macbeth, Ethan and Cooke found themselves exploring new territory. As Ethan put it, “So I kind of got interested again, and we have these scripts, but Joel was working on his thing, so we kind of got out of sync. Now, there was never a decision by the two of us to do movies separately.”
The brothers’ divergence, then, was less a rupture and more a gentle drift. Years of back-to-back projects had left Ethan exhausted, and taking a break gave him the space to rediscover his curiosity about filmmaking. The lockdown period proved unexpectedly fruitful, allowing Ethan and Tricia to pivot into documentary work before returning to scripted features. Their 2024 film Drive-Away Dolls marked a return to fiction—albeit with a slightly different flavor than the classic Coen collaborations.
Now, in 2025, Ethan and Cooke have released Honey Don’t, a hardboiled detective riff that draws inspiration from classics like The Big Sleep and Robert Altman’s The Long Goodbye. The film stars Margaret Qualley as Honey O’Donahue, a sharp-tongued detective whose banter channels the spirit of Humphrey Bogart (with a dash of Lauren Bacall for good measure). Aubrey Plaza co-stars as a no-nonsense cop, while Chris Evans leans into villainy as a corrupt reverend. The movie has been met with a range of critical reactions, but its genre-bending spirit and sharp dialogue feel unmistakably Coen-esque—even without Joel’s name in the credits.
Meanwhile, Joel Coen has carved out his own solo lane, starting with the visually striking Macbeth and reportedly developing a still-untitled horror project. While some fans might worry that the brothers’ separate projects signal a permanent split, Ethan is quick to dispel any rumors of a rift. “There’s no rift, no creative divorce, and no finality,” he emphasized in the Collider interview. “It’s just on pause.”
In fact, the brothers still share unfinished scripts and occasionally bounce ideas off one another. Their creative partnership, Ethan suggests, is less a fixed institution than a living, breathing thing—sometimes in perfect sync, sometimes moving to different rhythms. “We have these scripts,” Ethan said, “but Joel was working on his thing, so we kind of got out of sync.” It’s the sort of natural ebb and flow that many creative duos experience, especially after decades of intense collaboration.
For longtime fans, the question lingers: will the Coen brothers ever reunite for another joint project? Ethan’s answer is a cautious but hopeful one. There’s no dramatic end, no final curtain—just two artists exploring their own interests for now, with the door always open to future collaborations. As Honey Don’t lands in theaters across the country, the absence of the familiar “Coen Brothers” credit may feel strange, but Ethan’s explanation makes it clear that the partnership isn’t over. It’s simply on hiatus, awaiting the right spark or the right script to bring the brothers back together.
In the meantime, audiences can enjoy the distinct flavors of each brother’s solo work—Ethan’s genre-bending experiments with Cooke, and Joel’s bold ventures into Shakespeare and horror. And who knows? With a stack of unfinished scripts and a history of creative surprises, the next great Coen Brothers film may be just around the corner.
For now, Honey Don’t serves as a reminder of the enduring spirit and restless curiosity that made the Coens legends in the first place. Whether working together or apart, Joel and Ethan Coen continue to shape the landscape of American cinema—one unpredictable project at a time.
