Review: ‘Little Dixie’ delivers a brutal throwback to the old school of violent revenge thrillers

Thanks to an unstoppable work ethic that seemingly finds him showing up in a movie every other month, which regularly happen to be action thrillers that release exclusively on digital and VOD, Frank Grillo rarely gets the credit he deserves for his acting abilities. Sure, he can kick ass with the best of them, but his recent collaborations with filmmaker John Swab have allowed him to deliver the best of both worlds, with the bruising Little Dixie the latest example.

Having previously partnered up for health care critique Body Brokers and twisted family drama Ida Red – both of which operated within the parameters of the crime genre – the duo’s third feature doesn’t try and hide its influences. Little Dixie might not be for everyone, but it wears its heart on its sleeve when it comes to ladling on the atmosphere, tension, and unflinching violence that harks right back to the glory days of the revenge-fueled classics.

We all know that Grillo can hold his own in an onscreen scrap or shootout, and he’s got a lifetime of training to cash the checks his mouth is more than capable of running, but he’s also been developing a streak of strong dramatic performances within his established wheelhouse. He was the best thing by far about recent biopic Lamborghini: The Man Behind the Legend, and showed an untapped vein of deadpan comic timing in Joe Carnahan’s Boss Level, but Little Dixie gives him the opportunity to drop bodies and pathos in equal measure.

The actor heads up the cast as Doc Alexander, a fixer of sorts who used to serve in the military with Eric Dane’s recently-elected governor Richard Jeffs. A tenuous hidden truce exists between the corrupt former prosecutor and a drug cartel in exchange for financial backing, but when the delicate alliance is shattered, Beau Knapp’s ruthless Cuco kidnaps Doc’s daughter Nell (Sofia Bryant), and lists his ruthless demands for her return.

Left with no other option but to do as he’s asked, Doc goes on a rampage of retribution that sees him turn his back on the very few friends he had left, because absolutely nothing will stop him getting back his child safe and sound. Based on that synopsis alone, you might expect Little Dixie to follow a fairly straightforward A-to-B narrative, and while that’s certainly the case in some instances, it does take a few unexpected detours along the way.

Not to dive into spoiler territory, but having recognizable names like Dane, Annabeth Gish, Thomas Dekker, Peter Greene, and more along for the ride lulls you into a false sense of security as to who ends up where and why, with very little of it coming to pass by the time the credits roll after a whirlwind 100 minutes.

Swab has set out his stall in the crime genre, and he’s proven to be a dab hand at it, with each of his films aiming to paint the familiar with a fresh coat of paint. There’s nothing particularly inventive, imaginative, or even elegant about Little Dixie, which is precisely why it works. Sometimes, all you want to do is sit back and watch a talented cast and crew dive into an unashamedly hard-boiled story with gruesome, grisly, and shocking results, and that’s exactly what you get.

Knapp is a particular standout as Cuco, immersing himself so deeply into the shaven-headed, tattooed, and almost otherworldly cartel member that you’d have no idea it’s the same guy who appeared in either Netflix’s police procedural Seven Seconds or Showtime’s historical miniseries The Good Lord Bird. He’s a weird guy, almost unsettlingly so, meaning that no matter the lengths Doc is forced to go to during his trial by fire, he’s never in danger of being unsympathetic when his adversary is so unnervingly unlikable.

After a bullet-riddled opening act that sets the stage, it soon becomes clear that nobody in Little Dixie is safe. On the surface, the request made by Cuco to ensure the safety of Nell sounds unachievable given that it’s nigh-on impossible to pull off when you hear it out loud, but it happens halfway through the story, generating an underlying sense of danger that’s impossible to shake off every time a gun cocks, a car screeches, or a door opens.

It might not sound like a compliment to call Little Dixie a “meat and potatoes” thriller, but it is. It doesn’t have any airs, graces, or ideas above its station; it simply wants to entertain by bringing the old school crashing into the 21st Century. Based on the evidence, you’d imagine that Charles Bronson would give Grillo and Swab his seal of approval.