16 JUNE 2007, Page 36

Let's twist again

Deborah Ross Tell No One 15, Nationwide Tell No One (Ne le dis a personne) is a French film made by those French people of France but fear not. It is not one of those French films made by those French people of France in which it is all rainy Paris, Ravel on the soundtrack and a mousy girl in a cardigan who may or may not get a peep at love. Tell No One is a thriller and as far as thrillers go it does exactly what it says on the can: it thrills. Further, it's been such a huge box-office smash in France, as well as prizewinner — four Cesars, and I don't think they mean the dog food — that it's now going into cinemas everywhere. I say this in case your other fear is that it's only on at the Renoir until the end of last week — do catch it if you can; hurry!

I should admit that, on the whole, I am not so great with thrillers. The one bit of dialogue that explains everything, provides the very key to the plot, is usually the one bit I hear only as an incoherent mumble. So that's why I love subtitles. Subtitles are great. I recently rewatched The Godfather with subtitles and for the first time ever understood who killed Frankie and why. I will get back to you about The Matrix once I have asked my son to explain it all to me yet again. The only downside to subtitles is if you happen to sit behind Mark of Kermode at a screening. He is worse than a hat wearer, what with that quiff. To keep up you have to bob from side to side. I now say, in my prayers every night, `. . . oh, and God, if it's all the same to you, maybe it's time Mark Kermode began thinning on top? I thank you, Lord.'

The film, based on a novel of the same name by the American crimewriter Harlan Coben, is a real twister and turner, and it's not just all the head bobbing that makes me say that. At its most basic, though, the plot can be put like this: Alex Beck (Francois Cluzet) is a paediatrician who is very much in love with his wife Margot (Marie-Josee Croze). On the way back from a visit to friends they stop for a swim at their own special place, a lake that they have been visiting since their childhood. Later, when Margot goes to let the dog out of the car, Alex is knocked unconscious and Margot is brutally murdered. Eight years later, Alex, a broken man, receives a mysterious email; it is from Margot, and appears to be recent. Can Margot be alive? At the same time, the discovery of two bodies near the murder site leads to the police reopening their case with Alex as the number one suspect. Can Alex discover the truth before the net closes around him?

Tell No One is taut, exciting and clever. The sense of that net closing is brilliantly delineated. There's a blissful scene when Alex, mid-consultation with a patient, has to jump out of the hospital window and start running. There is also an exhilarating set-piece chase though Paris which shows Paris as it is, rather than the picture-postcard Paris that is all Eiffel Towers and Notre-Dames. The film has a genuine sense of place. Also, it bristles with energy, which is an excellent thing, because if it bristled with bristles it would be a broom, and why would you pay to see that?

The film is smart because while the narrative drives it — hard and fast — it doesn't skimp on the characters. All have their little quirks. For example, Eric (Francois Berleand), the main cop, has a slight touch of the OCDs. Lovely touch, especially when one of his underlings throws something into the recycling bin that he shouldn't. But, mostly, Tell No One relies on the acting of Cluzet, who looks like an etiolated Dustin Hoffman — after a mild brush with John Cusack — and is amazing. He is one of those actors who can convey everything — grief, fear, bewilderment, relief — while seeming to do absolutely nothing. I'd give him 12 Cesars as well as, possibly, a pouch of Sheba.

But did I get it? Whodunnit and why, that is? Well, I thought I got it at the time. I truly did. It was only later, when I started questioning myself, that I got a little confused. This film is like that old TV show, The Burke Special, where you'd come away thinking you understood nuclear physics perfectly even though, of course, you didn't. But does it matter? Not a bit. And while the denouement may be overlong and somewhat preposterous, that doesn't matter either. It's such fun getting there. Honestly, it is.