Ballad Of A White Cow

Consideration of the death penalty is an enduring theme in films from countries where it is still in operation but Maryam Moghadam and Behtash Sanaeeha's film - though touching on some similar themes to fellow Iranian director Mohammad Rasolouf's recent There Is No Evil - also offers close scrutiny of women's place in society in general.

That place is strictly delineated, especially if there is no man in the picture, something that single mother Mina (played by Moghadam herself) is all too aware of in the wake of her husband's execution. Working her days in a milk processing plant she is also juggling looking after her deaf young daughter Bita (Avin Poor Raoufi) and trying to stave off harassment from her brother-in-law (Pourya Rahimiam), who acts as a messenger of veiled threats from her dead husband's father.

When she discovers that her husband was, in fact, innocent, Mina begins a campaign for justice but is hampered every step by a system specifically set up against her. So after Reza (Alireza Sani Far), a man she's never met but who says he owes her husband, turns up on her doorstep like a guardian angel, she's grateful - although we instinctively know it's probably too good to be true.

There's an elegance to the filmmaking as this story unravels its themes of societal prejudice, justice and remorse that elevates every frame. The directors generate plenty of intrigue around Reza as the hidden intricacies of his relationship with Mina are gradually revealed, while Moghadam's performance also offers up complexity. Mina is determined and resourceful but also acutely aware of the invisible barriers she is up against.

Care and attention to detail abound, from the thoughtfulness of the sound design - wind whistling at just the right moments - to the framing from cinematographer Amin Jafari with its cool precision and a subtly calibrated colour palette , with the virginal white of the milk echoed in fantasy scenes involving the pure white cow of the title awaiting the butcher and playing a key role as the film reaches its tense climax. Small changes signify big things, such as Mina's application of lipstick or selection of a clothing item that isn't mourning black. Sacrifice is a word loaded with ambiguity, not just in terms of what is being offered up but to what deity and why, the directors explore the concept and its implications to the fullest, and ensure Mina retains her agency to the last.