Julia garner is, as expected, mesmerizing. The role might hew a little too closely to the character she plays in Ozark, but in an hour and a half she brings similar nuance to a character she developed over many years in the Netflix show. Anna Friel as Bev is a subtle sensation and Nick Roux as Garner's on-screen brother is sublimely understated. Jake Weary as the male lead is in one of those roles where it's difficult to imagine anyone else doing it. He *is* Sammy.
Much of the dialogue is truly mesmerizing, a credit to Juanita Wilson whom it is impossible to imagine isn't from a trailer park somewhere in the impoverished American south. (I swear I'd read the ingredients panel on a Hostess snack cake were it written by her.)
This may be the most poorly titled film I've seen in a long time, the title suggesting the kind of story that we don't get. It's not an action flick. In fact, the genius of this film is that at almost no point is it about what you think it's going to be about. At one point it seems a light hearted caper, at another a wonderfully tragic and perverse love triangle, and at yet another a tale of revenge and regret and horrible choices to be made in horrible circumstances. But in that lies the movie's success. Separately these themes don't tell the story this movie is telling but woven together as they are the narrative theme coheres: being poor white trash is a desperate, powerless, anguishing situation, yet those who survive, survive. And sometimes we should pity them for it.
This film is why independent film exists and should continue to exist despite and especially because of the pressures the major motion picture industry exerts.