Some actors don’t need the spotlight to shine—but when they finally get it, they make the most of it. In The G, Dale Dickey—long known for stealing scenes in supporting roles—takes center stage and delivers a commanding, unforgettable performance. It’s a gritty, emotionally complex turn that proves she should have been leading films all along.
Inspired by real events and shaped by director Karl R. Hearne’s personal family experiences, The G tells the story of Ann Hunter (aka "The G"), a retired woman who is forcibly removed from her home by a corrupt legal guardian intent on stripping her and her husband of their assets. Placed in a dehumanizing eldercare facility, she must dig deep—physically and emotionally—to fight back, with the help of her loyal granddaughter. What unfolds is less a traditional revenge thriller and more a raw, winter-noir character study with sharp edges and haunting atmosphere.
Dickey's performance is the heart and spine of the film. She brings an effortless gravitas to the role—equal parts weary survivor and unbreakable matriarch. The film lets her be bold, flawed, sexual, and violent in a way rarely afforded to older women on screen. From quiet moments of resolve to bursts of unflinching rage, she commands every frame, turning even the act of smoking a cigarette into a cinematic event.
Visually, The G leans into its noir inspirations with a stylish edge reminiscent of early Coen Brothers fare like Blood Simple. There’s real care in the framing and camerawork—shots that linger just long enough to unnerve, or reveal character in unexpected ways. Combined with a lived-in soundtrack featuring tracks from Freddy Fender and Billy Joe Shaver, there’s an almost eerie familiarity to the world Hearne constructs. For some, it might feel like home—if home were a decaying system filled with corruption, violence, and buried secrets.
That said, the film isn't without its missteps. Tonal shifts—especially between its bleak realism and moments of attempted dark humor—don’t always land. Dialogue occasionally veers into awkward territory, and the finale feels a bit rushed, leaving a few threads unresolved. Despite teases of “The G’s” mysterious past, the film never fully pulls back the curtain, opting for ambiguity over revelation—which may frustrate viewers hoping for more closure.
Still, the power of The G lies not in neat plotting but in the force of its central character. It's a film that thrives when exploring the personal over the procedural, the emotional toll over the body count. While the revenge elements satisfy on a surface level, it’s ultimately a story about survival, agency, and resilience in the face of systemic abuse.
The G may not be perfect, but it’s bold, atmospheric, and anchored by a performance that refuses to be ignored. Dale Dickey isn’t just finally getting her due—she’s kicking the door down to claim it.
Jessie Hobson