I think both of you are circling the same core truth: film language only works when the filmmaker fully commits to it.
Cinema is a visual medium, but visuals only become storytelling when they’re intentional. As MICA said, once the image is doing the heavy lifting, every choice matters — framing, blocking, rhythm, silence. There’s no safety net. That’s why strong visual storytelling feels rarer: it demands clarity and confidence from the director and the entire creative team.
No Country for Old Men is a great example. The film trusts the audience completely. Meaning comes from spatial relationships, duration, and what’s withheld rather than explained. Dialogue exists, but it never rescues the scene it only sharpens what the image already communicates. The tension is visual first, verbal second.
On the other end of the spectrum, Tenet shows how dialogue can become a structural support system. The ambition is undeniable, but much of the storytelling responsibility is shifted into explanation. The visuals are striking, yet they often function as illustration rather than communication. Dialogue fills the gaps where visual clarity is intentionally or unintentionally sacrificed.
And this is where I agree strongly with MICA’s point about fragility. Visual storytelling is powerful precisely because it can’t hide. If the image fails, there’s nothing to patch it with. Dialogue can explain, justify, or redirect. Images can only be right or wrong.
That doesn’t mean dialogue is the enemy. In the strongest films, dialogue behaves almost like sound design — minimal, precise, and emotionally motivated. It supports the image instead of competing with it.
So the balance mentioned in the original post is key, but I’d go one step further:
visual storytelling works best when dialogue is no longer a crutch, but a conscious creative choice.
That’s when cinema stops talking at the audience and starts trusting them to see.