Critics reviews

The film equivalent of a familiar, not too special song that's been brilliantly re-arranged and performed.

A muscular slice of Southern noir... “Galveston” is tough, uncompromising, and hauntingly believable, just a little too slow and a lot too serious for today’s typical action audiences. But that’s what makes it such a diamond in the rough on this fall’s film calendar: It’s a hardboiled paean to the lost art of chivalry.

Fans of “True Detective,” whose creator, Nic Pizzolatto, wrote the novel on which this movie is based, won’t be surprised to see a routine on-the-lam scenario treated with the solemnity of the Oresteia. But the heavy-handed filmmaking is more of a mystery coming from the actress Mélanie Laurent, who directed the elegant “Breathe” (2015).

[Galveston is] a muted crime drama that runs out of plot too soon, but makes up for it with powerhouse performances and a finely shaded sense of place. The picture’s not at the same level as “The Florida Project” or “You Were Never Really Here,” but it’s reminiscent of both.

At a tight 87 minutes, [Galveston] just doesn’t have time to dance around the task at hand. If anything, this reheated serving of meat-and-potatoes crime fiction is so to the point and in the moment that it doesn’t even seem to invite any deeper meaning until its unexpected final moments.

The pitch-black and paper-thin Galveston not only fails to find a way to reinvent, or at least refresh, that old tired idea, it also piles a few more tired ideas on top of it.

[Galveston] is far from a perfect film, but Laurent is a confident director who elevates the pulpy plot of Pizzolato’s novel into a unique reflection of characters on the margins of society. It, also, probably doesn’t hurt that she has Foster and Fanning at the top of their game to deliver the material.

[Galveston] isn’t entirely successful—Pizzolatto’s book stubbornly resists first-time screenwriter Jim Hammett’s efforts to reshape its narrative for the screen—but it confirms Laurent as a significant talent behind the lens, particularly adept at building queasy tension.

Galveston is a moody, slow-burn drama that never quite catches fire... Laurent’s film is a slog—a slow, directionless anti-thriller that never manages to build tension or establish any stakes. It doesn’t help that Foster and Fanning deliver much of their dialogue in a mumbly monotone that starkly underplays the desperation and despair at the heart of their characters.

While there’s a thread of familiarity throughout [Galveston], [Laurent's] steady hand and the powerful performances of her leads give Galveston its own alluring sense of self... If Galveston is indeed just another hoary standard, then it proves more about the talent of the performer than the quality of the song. No noir can truly disappoint when you’ve got East Texas on your side.

[Laurent] doesn’t seem terribly in control of tone or plot here with an uneven structure that grows maddening in its second act before becoming a revenge thriller with predictable beats. Galveston looks and feels like a retread of moments borrowed from far better pictures, touching on familiar notes along the way.

[Galveston] promises to be a crime thriller, and does not disappoint, but it’s [the] moments of lightness that make the film. It’s through the tender, sometimes misguided interactions between Ray and Raquel that the true spirit of the film is conveyed.