Nahal is around thirty and in her fourth month of pregnancy. During a routine check-up she learns that her baby has died and she now faces a curettage abortion in two days’ time. When she tries to address the subject, neither her mother nor her husband give her a chance to speak.
The depressed Shirin wanders around at her father's funeral. Unexpectedly, she sees a man very much like her father. Regardless of her uncle's objection, Shirin is enchanted by the idea of finding out that man. Reluctantly, her uncle acknowledges that the man is her father's illegitimate child. Looking at gloomy daughter, Shirin's mother tells her about some past events, especially about an unexpected truth that Shirin is her father's adopted daughter. It seems to be clear that Shirin and that man have no blood bond. But her father's mistress tells a different story.
Bahram Beyzai's poetic imagining of the circumstances that led to the death of Yazdgerd III, the last of the Sassanid kings of Iran. His death in 651, during the Arab invasions that brought Islam to this Zoroastrian realm, was mysterious: his corpse was discovered in a mill, but the cause of his death—and the whereabouts of his remains—are unknown.
Parviz has as its increasingly horrifying anti-hero the 50-year-old hulk of a passive-aggressive bachelor son (theater director/activist Haftvan), whose free ride in life screeches to a halt when his miserly widowed father forms a plan to remarry.
An old man walks into a barbershop and begins telling the story of his life to the man cutting his hair — unaware the barber is his son. As his early dementia sets in, memory and identity begin to blur. Shot in real time with quiet restraint, the film is a meditation on fatherhood, aging, and the unspoken spaces we create to hold on to those we love.