Djomeh

The performances of this quiet Iranian drama are utterly genuine, and the story is a delicate blend of slice-of-life realism and soft-spoken social commentary.

Enriches a deceptively anecdotal plot with a combination of observational camerawork, strong narrative rhythms, and deft characterization.

An investigation, at once lucid and enigmatic, of exile, loneliness and the fragile possibility of friendship.

Yektapanah's stripped-down methods --remote setting, a cast of locals, the sparest of scripts -- are used so effectively, it quickly becomes clear that he's most concerned with the similarities rather than the differences between people.

May strike some audiences as even more real than Kiarostami's work, because the story is so luminously open. Watching it, we enter, without barriers, a world.

This gentle and somewhat slow moving romantic fable has a quiet sweetness all its own, and is thankfully free of the inscrutable ponderousness that often infuses the films of Yektapanah's mentors.

Agonizingly slow-moving and talky, it consists primarily of conversations between two men in a truck.