The protagonist, Alex Beck (François Cluzet), is a kindhearted pediatrician in Paris who goes out of his way to help the poor in the clinic where he works. But one of the pleasures of both films is surrendering to a vision of corruption and evil that resists tidy explanations. When the truth spills out, and ugly revelations pile onto one another in an extended final confession, the puzzle pieces fit more snugly than those of “The Big Sleep,” the granddaddy of impenetrable noirs. The story, which involves murder and depravity in high places, is so elaborately twisty that about halfway through the movie you stop trying to figure it out and let its polluted waters wash over you, trusting that the denouement will reveal all. Beautifully written and acted, “Tell No One” is a labyrinth in which to get deliriously lost. There are no bogus geopolitics weighing it down with a spurious relevance.
Watching it is like gorging on a hot- fudge sundae in the good old days when few worried about sugar and fat. This French adaptation of Harlan Coben’s 2001 best seller is the kind of conspiracy-minded mystery almost no one seems capable of creating anymore, except David Lynch in his surreal way. In the shortcut language of a movie pitch, Guillaume Canet’s delicious contemporary thriller “Tell No One” is “Vertigo” meets “The Fugitive” by way of “The Big Sleep.” That is meant as high praise.
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