With a little bit of luck, we’ll all be old. That’s just as true for me as anyone else. I’m not so much pushing fifty as I pushed over fifty. I don’t really feel too different than I did five years ago, yet I can’t help but notice slightly more white in my beard, and dropping weight feels slightly more difficult. 

Given my approaching age, it’s reasonable for me to expect people to seek me out for my years of wisdom, and for the youth to genuflect as I approach, and whisper in hushed tones, “There…there goes the Film Elder, Father Cinema.” Right? Right? Wrong! We’re in America, and here, if you’re over forty, you might as well be a bog witch. Here, we think the olds are creepy as hell, and we like them to be quietly put away so they don’t give anyone the willies. 

That concept lives especially large in the film industry. It’s so often about the new, young hotness, and the people who have been around for more than a minute don’t always get the recognition they’ve been working towards. Luckily it’s not always like that. Dale Dickey is an actor who’s done television, stage, and screen acting since the mid 1990s. Usually she plays a supporting role. Somebody finally wised up and gave her the lead in The G, a solid crime thriller where she acquits herself nicely.

We’re introduced to Ann (Dale Dickey). She lives with her husband, Chip (Greg Ellwand) in a modest townhouse. While her relationship with Chip’s son Charles (Daniel Brochu) is frosty, Charles’ daughter Emma (Romaine Denis) adores Ann. She calls Ann “The G,” since “Grandma” isn’t fitting for a flinty, take-no-shit woman like Ann. Ann’s life might not be much, but it’s hers.

Until it isn’t. In the middle of the night, men enter their home. They bundle Ann and Chip into a van, then into a gulag-like elder care facility. They’re led by Rivera (Bruce Ramsay), who explains to Ann that she and Chip are now part of the guardianship system. Only this one is cruelly corrupt, and a doctor  and judge on the take collude with Rivera. Ann and Chip are declared legally incompetent, and Rivera has power of attorney.

Ann’s little townhouse is seized, then sold. Rivera’s team pockets the proceeds, and he suspects Ann has more money squirreled away. She denies it. Rivera asks her again, and his muscle Ralph (Jonathan Koensgen) beats Chip to get Ann to talk. Perhaps too hard. Did he intentionally beat Chip to death, or was it an accident? Who can say? For Rivera, it’s just business.

On the outside, Emma investigates and tries to help The G. She’s assisted by laidback landscaper Matt (Joe Scarpellino), who’s more involved than he lets on. On the inside, Ann makes plans. They’re complicated by the amorous attentions of the skittish Joseph (Roc Lafortune), another resident of the care center. What Rivera and his goons don’t know is, Ann has a history, one that stretches back to West Texas and a family with a talent for violence. She’ll embark on a vendetta, and she’ll be helped by a nameless soldier (Christian Jadah), who’s willing to get his hands nearly as dirty as she does.

From time to time, we’re treated to a solid movie featuring an outstanding lead performance that elevates the whole damn thing. That’s exactly what The G is. Director Karl R, Hearne has made a solid crime picture set within a nameless American city. His filmmaking is confident without being overly flashy, and I liked his quiet escalation of tension. As should happen in any good revenge film, we soon understand who the real hunter is and what their endgame is. As I watched it, I kept being reminded of early films by the Coen brothers, and The G definitely shares some DNA with Blood Simple. 

A little Googling shows ample evidence of corruption within the guardianship system, and Hearne’s clever screenplay uses that as fodder for a wintry noir. He efficiently shows us the Kafka-esque system where Ann and Chip are whisked from their home, their assets are seized, and they’re placed into a facility little better than a slum. It also swiftly shows us how people respond to the system, from Chip’s fear, Joseph’s resignation, and Ann’s implacable thirst for revenge. 

We’ll get to Dale Dickey in a moment, but it bears mentioning she’s supported by a fine cast of actors. Rather than playing a cackling psychopath, I appreciated that Bruce Ramsay’s Rivera is simply a professional. It’s irrelevant to him if the elders he scammed eventually leave, or die in the facility they refer to as “The Departure Lounge.” The bottom line is all that matters. The flip side to his chilly performance is Romaine Denis as Emma. She shows us a young woman who’s learned her parents are, to one degree or another, lacking in inner strength. Emma learns to never give up, never break, from the steely and infuriating woman who married her grandfather.

And that brings us to Dale Dickey. These days, a female actor over the age of, say, fifty-five, can usually play one of three roles. Their options are limited to a supportive grandmother, a witch, or a senior who likes getting high. Dickey proudly holds up a middle finger to that concept with her performance as Ann. She’s a woman with a basketful of flaws, a healthy libido, keen intelligence, and quietly simmering rage. Once Ann works out the kind of situation she’s in and develops a plan, she’s like a bullet. If you gender-swapped the character of Parker in Donald E. Westlake’s series of crime novels, you’d come pretty close to the character Dickey plays. It’s a performance that’s free from vanity, honest, and unsettling.

The G is a refreshingly original and smart crime movie. It reminds us that great supporting actors deserve their time in the spotlight, that America remains a place where elders are often treated shamefully, and that as long as there is life, no matter the age, there’s time for payback. 

Tim Brennan Movie Critic

Tim has been alarmingly enthusiastic about movies ever since childhood. He grew up in Boulder and, foolishly, left Colorado to study Communications in Washington State. Making matters worse, he moved to Connecticut after meeting his too-good-for-him wife. Drawn by the Rockies and a mild climate, he triumphantly returned and settled down back in Boulder County. He's written numerous screenplays, loves hiking, and embarrassed himself in front of Samuel L. Jackson. True story.