SAINT & NICOLE DO A MUDER
In this Thelma and Louise comedy, a pair of drag queens go on the lam after accidentally running their landlord over (on purpose). It's campy, it's blood, and it's a damn fun ride.
Twisty Mystery
Strong Female Characters
International
Intrigue
Medium Budget
Sorkenesque
Dialogue
Echoes of Bourne Identity
Saint and Nicole are two drag queens circling the drain of irrelevance—one a failed influencer obsessed with fame, the other a self-loathing piano prodigy hiding from her own reflection. When a casting director invites them to Hollywood to audition for Drag Race, they grab their stilettos and hit the road.
The only hiccup?
They run over Saint’s homophobic landlord before they even leave the parking lot. Instead of staying to deal with it like adults, they stuff the body in the trunk, record a TikTok, and decide they’ll figure it out on the way to L.A.
That decision—flawed, fabulous, and entirely on brand—kicks off a series of increasingly chaotic attempts to dispose of the body. And just when it seems like they’ve gotten away with it, they’re pulled over by a handsome small-town cop… an old friend of Saint’s who might be into her — and very possibly into murder.
THE STORY
As the journey spirals, so does their friendship. Saint can’t stop hiding. Nicole can’t stop posting. And no matter what they do, they can’t seem to get rid of the body. There’s something else simmering here: a series of missing person posters they encounter all along their journey. Why are so many queens disappearing?
Ultimately, their entire escapade goes viral. Nicole loves the attention, but it sends them straight to jail. There, they tear into each other with the kind of toxic honesty you can only earn after years of drag gigs and shared eyeliner.
But that prison fight cracks something open. Nicole—long dismissed as “pretty but dumb”—mounts a defense so outrageous it actually works: she convinces the small-town cop that their Thelma and Louise antics were nothing more than a social media stunt. They had nothing to do with the missing queens.
Saint, meanwhile, starts to see that maybe Nicole isn’t as dumb as she seems—maybe she’s been brave all along.
That’s when Nicole sees the glitter on the cop’s desk and a few other breadcrumbs that all lead to one realization: they didn’t escape the killer, they made out with him.
The final act is a full drag revenge fantasy. Saint, trapped in a killer’s basement with a knife in her hand and her old demons staring her down. Nicole, barreling through a chain-link fence in a stolen car, stilettos locked and loaded. Glitter. Gunfire. Death drops. A steel corset that saves a life, and a Sunset Boulevard movie prop that ends another. It’s campy and cathartic and bloody as hell—but every moment pays off something we’ve seen before.
By the time the curtain rises again, they’ve survived the murderer, the fame, the closet, and each other. And when they arrive for the casting call, hand in hand, the audience doesn’t just see two queens. They see two celebrities who, in many ways, have already won.
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