Fin is a criminal on the run, wanted for the murder of his boss and the accidental shooting of an officer. He breaks into the home of a high-class escort, only to discover that you get more than you bargain for with Val, short for “Valefar” – a demon who offers to make all his problems disappear if he agrees to follow her rules. But in Val’s world there are no accidents, and as Fin meets her other “customers”, he learns that Val was expecting him all along, and it isn’t easy to escape Val’s dungeon.

Erstwhile Special Forces operative Doc Alexander is asked to broker a truce with the Mexican drug cartel in secrecy. When Oklahoma Governor Richard Jeffs celebrates the execution of a high-ranking cartel member on TV, his Chief of Staff and Doc inform him about the peace he just ended. But it’s too late, as Cuco, the cartel’s hatchet man, has set his vengeful sights on Doc’s daughter Dixie.
They don’t make ’em like Little Dixie anymore: honed to the bone, all gestures and actions, only a few words. Too many genre films these days try to create meaning by piling ideas and intentions on their narrative frames. John Swab, as always, works the other way around. Meaning and depth come from taking away whatever is superfluous – by reducing the plot to its bare essence and the characters to their core trades and tricks.
Ultimately, Little Dixie feels like the pulp fiction version of a Giacometti sculpture, all fearful symmetries and mirror images. A gem of crime cinema at its purest and most philosophical, proudly featuring noir’s new darling, Frank Grillo.
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