Sure, the pause can speak louder than words—especially when the camera lingers on a weather‑worn face and the only sound is a distant train. In arthouse the silence is a character in itself, a breath that lets the audience feel the weight of a decision before it’s voiced. A long monologue may feel forced; a well‑placed hush can linger in memory longer, the way a quiet chord does in a symphony. In my experience, the most effective films give the viewer space to interpret rather than dictate the narrative.

Exactly—those breathing pauses become the frame around the story, letting the audience’s imagination do the heavy lifting. The real drama often lives in the gaps, not the dialogue.