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I saw a really good French film, a thriller, the other day. Tell No One follows the life of a pediatrician whose wife is murdered as the couple finish a romantic swim in a secluded pond. Years later, on the anniversary of their first kiss, he receives an email with a live video feed that appears to be of his late wife. He is, understandably, shocked, confused, and anxious to prove the authenticity of the image. Not so simple, d’accord! It quickly becomes difficult to weed out the good from the bad guys, the lies from the truth, and it’s somehow all the more thrilling because it takes place in Versailles, which is far more beautiful a backdrop for evil than, say, Chicago or New York. I so seldom get to movies in the theater anymore–especially indie and foreign films, which I used to review for a living–and I was was quite pleased with this one. And then….Imagine my surprise when, as the credits rolled, I saw that the film had been based on a book by none other than Harlen Coben! Shut. Up. I probably read the book, too. Coben writes great stuff, stuff you can read in a day or two. I’m not surprised I didn’t remember the story–the book came out in 2002–but I usually get that weird feeling of deja vu when the clues start to come together. Perhaps I was too intent on the subtitles and scenery to wander that way. Either way, Tell No One is a fabulous film based on a book–a rare and wonderful thing. And probably a book worth devoting a day to as well.

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