Nobody Else But You, a Gallic-spin on the detective genre deemed by at least one writer as “Snow Noir” (that would be this writer) was the revelation of the first week of press screenings at this years London Film Festival. The film tells the story of Martine Langevin, a recently deceased model, with the film narrated by the dead body itself (ala Billy Wilder’s Sunset Blvd, just one of many nods to the American film tradition). We follow a French author as he investigates the girls death, and his encounters with the strange denizens of the town in which she lived and died, as he attempts to find out what happened to the Marilyn Monroe doppelgänger.

Our protagonist, Daniel Rousseau, the author, is the archetypical unlikely hero. He plays Doodle Jump on his iPhone and pretends to be a door to door salesman. Trading the familiar trench coat of film noir tradition for a hastily purchased bright orange Parka jacket, complete with price tags left on, which is incredibly practical but the polar opposite of subtle. Yet, and befitting of the askew nature of the film, Rousseau benefits from a hyper acute hearing, an impediment which is essentially played as the physical embodiment of the manner in which the writer approaches obstacles. Rousseau, portrayed by Jean-Paul Rouve is a likeable figure, and the perfect guide through the surreal landscape in which he is presented.

Speaking of which, the landscape presented is a beautifully winter panorama, rich in atmosphere, and drawn in snowfall. The dark tale being told is doused in permanent daylight, thanks to the bright whites of the situation. Comparisons to the Coen Brothers’ Fargo will no doubt be banded around, and in truth they’re impossible to avoid, but Hustache-Mathieu’s film also nods to David Lynch’s Twin Peaks, with its use of recurring music and the aforementioned hyper real characterisation. The narrative, which revolves around a series of fourteen journals written by our dead host also recalls the case of Laura Palmer too.

Nobody Else But You bears all of the hallmarks of a potential Franco crossover hit, riffing on the American cinema without ever feeling contrived or lesser as a result. It comes with our recommendation.