The film begins with a mesmerizing long take of the unexpectedly beautiful Iranian countryside. In a wide shot, we observe a tiny International Scout navigating a winding road, barely noticeable against the vast backdrop. Inside the vehicle, its four passengers engage in a subtle argument about their driving directions, recorded in a raw style that draws us into the scene. Right from the start, two significant aspects become clear: our director has no intention of spoon-feeding information, leaving us as in-the-dark as the characters about their identities and motives, and the film exhibits a leisurely pace, favoring long takes that linger on moments of triviality. This initial segment stretches on for over five and a half minutes, meandering through their gentle bickering.

Eventually, the group reaches their goal—a quaint village nestled on a steep hillside, reminiscent of hodgepodge structures you might find in desert Africa. Having encountered a young guide on the town’s outskirts, our primary character—The Engineer—who is also the sole character seen on screen throughout the movie, traverses the uneven roofs that form his temporary universe, hopping up and down as he makes his way.

Kiarostami dedicates this introductory sequence to setting the film’s rhythm and establishing its central enigma. These four evidently urban Tehranians have checked into the nearest guesthouse for the purpose of monitoring the health of an ailing matriarch residing at the opposite side of the village. During his lengthy rooftop journey with the boy who serves as his companion, The Engineer pries into the old woman’s condition, eliciting cryptic responses from the boy—responses that hint at discretion or ignorance, leaving us uncertain.

By the time we grasp the purpose of these men’s presence and their concern for the elderly woman’s well-being, the urgency dissipates, and we find ourselves absorbed in the daily lives of this unique community—one that balances the alien with the strangely familiar. We encounter a cantankerous restaurant owner, her possibly unfaithful husband, the innkeeper who undergoes a strikingly sudden pregnancy, and a stunning young woman who tirelessly milks a cow in shadowed corners, all contributing to a rich socio-cultural tapestry for their guests.

Critics have labeled this film a mystery, and on some level, they are correct; we are indeed prompted to ponder who these characters are and why they are fixated on such a trivial mission in this remote corner of the world. At one point, The Engineer’s companions grow so disinterested that they vanish from the narrative entirely. However, to pigeonhole this film under a single genre would be to overlook Kiarostami’s deeper commentary. There lies a mystery in everyday life, but it is not the thrilling, espionage-laden intrigue often depicted in films; rather, it’s the mystery of mundanity—the peculiar script by which we all navigate our shared human experiences, filled with rivalries and minor disputes. The true enigma is how life can feel mystifying despite its utter simplicity.