Simon Ramshaw’s review published on Letterboxd:
Well, ain't that novel!
By that, I mean, this is obviously a novel, down to the fact that the author actually narrates the movie adaptation, lmao. Campos' brutal stamp that I spotted in Simon Killer and has stuck with me since is pretty much missing here, instead replaced with a snoozy Southern sentimentality that adds nothing other than "America? Bad." moralising and misery. I'd have love to have seen a film with a cast this stacked have as much personality as everyone clearly has combined, but this ain't it, chief. The cast here is, in fact, too starry, suffocating any humanity behind it by just flaunting its stars with grandstanding ugly performances throughout. Two highlights though, and they're both religious: the first being Harry Melling continuing his mad, pathetic villain character performance from other recent films and morphing it into his best Eli Sunday impression, and the second being Robert Pattinson's mega-acting that I never get tired of. Man is the saviour of mainstream and art-house performances, a true treasure.