Skyy Moore and Beth Broderick in Two Step (Erynn Patrick/Traverse Media)

“I don’t live in a world of maybe, I live in Texas.”

This is just one of the quotable lines in the highly entertaining noir Two Step. Like most good noirs, it moves in unexpected directions. Unlike most others, it has a laconic feel and is focused deeply on character, all the better for the surprises to come. While you are busy watching, say, the unexpected tenderness four-time divorcee Dot (Beth Broderick) has for the sweet, sad, guarded James (Skyy Moore), you aren’t noticing director Alex R. Johnson tightly coiling the strings that are set to unfurl in dramatic, gruesome splendor.

The story focuses mostly on James—who recently lost both his parents and, as the film begins, his only living relative, his grandmother—and the unhinged, prone to violence, low-rung grifter Webb (James Landry Hébert). Webb runs a scam where he calls senior citizens and pretends to be their grandson and manages to convince them to wire him money. He starts the film in prison, but, in short order, he is released, dumped by his girlfriend, who has all his illegally procured cash in her account, and is threatened by the scam’s mastermind, Duane (a fantastic Jason Douglas), who demands $10,000.

The film trails James and his awkward attempts at friendship with Dot and Webb as he tries to pull himself out of a pretty deep whole. Eventually, you know the two storylines will meet, and it will not be pleasant. And they do. And it isn’t. But Johnston has tricks up his sleeve. Webb is amoral and violent but not without a conscience. His relationship with Duane and his crew is family to him and when family disappoints….

Meanwhile, the director spends a good deal of time developing Dot and her burgeoning relationship with James. Dot, the wiser, attempts to impart said wisdom in a matronly and maybe not so matronly way to young James, who can barely look anyone in the eye. He has seen too much tragedy at a young age, and he has become a quiet, anxious, ill-at-ease loner. Dot keeps her men at arm’s length, not just to keep herself from being hurt but because she’s aware of the hurt she is capable of imparting. James seems to break through that. He is a kitten in the rain.

As all the plot strands come to a head (to say how would spoil the fun), you wonder how Dot is going to fit in. And she does. In fact, she’s vital but absolutely not in the way you expect. Her final action ties the film up beautifully and discreetly.

Every character is granted a degree of empathy. Even Webb, clearly a sociopath, is allowed his moments of humanity. Both he and James have lost family. James, with great difficulty, reaches out for connection, while Webb lashes out with devastating results. There’s also warmth to this film, as personified by Dot, a beacon in the darkness that rises up every once in a while, but it is there, pulsing throughout Two Step.