Color of the Night

In a modest Iranian suburb, Rasoul lives a quiet life as a bank teller, sharing a tight‑knit home with his devoted wife Zohre and their spirited daughter. Their routine is rooted in ordinary joys and small worries, a gentle rhythm that promises stability. The world they inhabit feels both intimate and familiar, a place where community ties and familial duty shape every decision.

One rainy afternoon, a sudden traffic collision shatters that calm. Rasoul finds himself thrust into an urgent rescue, pulling Batoul, a wealthy woman, and her young son from the wreckage and racing them to the hospital. In the sterile glow of emergency rooms, the accident reveals more than broken bones—it uncovers a bewildering loss of memory that leaves Batoul grasping for the pieces of her own identity. The incident forces Rasoul to confront responsibilities that stretch far beyond his usual sphere, testing the boundaries between duty, compassion, and the fragile trust that binds strangers.

The film’s tone hovers between stark realism and understated suspense, inviting viewers to linger on the subtle tensions that rise when ordinary lives intersect with the unknown. As Rasoul navigates the delicate balance of caring for his family while extending help to a woman whose past is now a blank canvas, the story gently probes questions of who we become when called upon to fill unexpected roles. The atmosphere is tinged with quiet unease, suggesting that beneath the surface of everyday existence lies a deeper, uncharted terrain of memory and identity.

Through its measured pacing and emotionally resonant performances, the narrative sets the stage for a contemplation of trust—both in oneself and in the strangers we encounter. In a world where a single moment can reshape lives, Rasoul stands at the crossroads of familiarity and the uncharted, hinting at the intricate ways compassion can redraw the contours of a life once thought settled.

Last Updated: October 27, 2025 at 16:28