Galveston (2018)

Laurent’s film is gripping throughout. The filmmaker shrewdly frames each scene to convey the characters’ loneliness and isolation without being too obvious.

What we are left with 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.

Laurent walks between pulpy suspense and a more serious grimness as she presents the action.

This latest film 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.

It takes far too long for Galveston to emerge from the novocaine of its various clichés and allow us to feel the tender flesh that bleeds across every scene of this seedy road noir, but — in fairness to director Mélanie Laurent — some filmmakers are never able to break the leathered skin of a Nic Pizzolatto story.