Lisa, a sports photographer documenting football pitches across rural Georgia, has disappeared. Her father Irakli refuses to accept her wish to remain unfound, and sets out across the country with her mysterious best friend. Yet Dry Leaf unfolds less as investigation than as drift: those they meet offer fragments that never quite cohere, while the camera lingers on open plains, mountain passes, and goalposts standing like sentinels in tall grass. Koberidze's Sony Ericsson produces images at once degraded and strangely luminous, as if the search itself were taking place in the haze of recollection. With brother Giorgi Koberidze's spare, aching score guiding the rhythm, the film settles into something closer to elegy—a reckoning with loss, chance, and the bonds that outlast certainty.