DELIYAR

"When guilt fractures reality, the unthinkable becomes visible."

Synopsis

Siavash, a reclusive sculptor, becomes convinced that horns are growing from his head. As the weight of a childhood tragedy tightens its hold on him, he withdraws from the world, finding fragile companionship only in his friend Hormoz. But as guilt distorts his perception and long-buried memories return, Siavash is forced to confront a truth that could undo his entire sense of self.

Cast

Key Credits

Director's Statement

DeliYar began with a phrase from everyday Persian: when something is so absurd or unbelievable that it makes you “grow horns.” I was drawn to the strange poetry of that expression—the way language can turn shock, guilt, and humiliation into an image. In the film, the horns are not just a surreal bodily detail; they become a visible form of a burden that cannot be spoken aloud. The story was also shaped by the myth of Siavash, the innocent figure in Persian mythology destroyed by false accusation and betrayal. That connection gave the film a deeper emotional and cultural anchor. Siavash is caught between guilt and innocence—between what he believes about himself and what may actually be true. I wanted the film to remain intimate, restrained, and sensory, allowing silence, space, and small gestures to carry emotional pressure. Rather than explaining trauma directly, the film builds a subjective experience of it—one where memory, shame, and perception gradually distort the world around the character. For me, the short/mid-length format was essential to hold this tension: a concentrated emotional rupture, where a single image can carry an entire inner collapse.