Jafar Panahi’s It Was Just an Accident, the 2025 Palme d’Or winner, opens on a dark, winding road. We can’t see what’s coming, so we are forced to surrender to the ride. The opening of the film is an apt comparison for what the audience is about to experience for the next 104 minutes.

During this ominous car ride, Eghbal (Ebrahim Azizi) experiences car trouble and pulls off the road to a nearby mechanic. Eghbal’s prosthetic leg creaks as he enters the shop.  Vahid (Vahid Mobasseri), one of the mechanics, recognizes the sound immediately as belonging to one of his torturers (known to him as Peg Leg) from his imprisonment by the Iranian government. 

Vahid takes matters into his own hands and kidnaps Eghbal. He drives him to the middle of the desert with the intent of burying him alive. However, Eghbal repeatedly insists he is not Peg Leg, planting a slight seed of doubt in Vahid’s mind. 

The film pivots into almost farcical territory from here. Vahid is sent to connect with another former prisoner, a photographer named Shiva (Mariam Afshari), who is in the middle of shooting a bride and groom portrait. The bride (Hadis Pakbaten) also suffered at the hands of Peg Leg.

Uncertain if the man in the back of Vahid’s van truly is Peg Leg, everyone piles in.

Panahi’s sharp script is a remarkable exercise in tone. He utilizes his characters’ uncertainty as a breeding ground for nail-biting tension. They veer back and forth from absurd comedic bickering as they attempt to figure out their next steps and earth-shattering monologues about their experiences in prison. Panahi pulls laughter and abruptly reminds the audience why there’s a man in the back of Vahid’s truck in the first place. Their trauma is inescapable, and Panahi basks in that. 

Panahi’s most pertinent question stems from here: To what extent is revenge justifiable, if at all? Each of these people has lost massive pieces of their lives that cannot be regained due to their imprisonment and torture. Are they not owed this? Will this help at all? Are evil acts okay if done to evil people?

Vahid and his newfound cohorts grapple with these questions as they try to reach a consensus. As they struggle, Panahi has the audience questioning everything as well. He opts for lengthy wide shots where we observe the unfolding action from a distance. He keeps Eghbal mostly offscreen after the kidnapping. Each time someone opens the trunk to confirm his identity, we stay on their face rather than Eghbal’s. By the time we do see his face and hear his voice again, it’s been ages. We almost can’t remember who was in the trunk in the first place. But does it matter?

One thing is certain, though. These people cannot shake their humanity. There is something pulling each of them back from fully losing control and unleashing their respective wraths. When presented with a high-pressure dilemma at the outset of the third act, the group jumps at the chance to help and do the right thing. Despite the road that led them to this point, their compassion remains.

It’s here that Panahi plays his full hand. In the face of oppressive regimes, one can’t help but wonder how we possibly move forward from this. When it comes to fascism, defiance can simply mean outlasting the regime with your humanity intact. Accident morphs into a rallying call to defiantly live rather than perpetuate the cycle of oppression doled out. In the end, the oppressor wins if our defiance comes at the expense of our humanity. 

Mobasseri and Afshari both craft incredible arcs with their respective characters. Each silently conveys the internal tug of war happening and the small shreds of decency fighting to stay alive in the darkness they are forced to carry with them. For a film about trauma and rage, they remain remarkably restrained, trying to maintain a sense of calm in this chaotic situation they find themselves gradually sinking into. When they finally unleash, it doesn’t feel as cathartic as anyone hoped it would be. Because how does anyone truly get justice from this? There’s nothing that will ever make this okay.

It Was Just an Accident is Panahi’s first film after his recent arrest and was filmed without permission from the Iranian government. Its very existence is an act of defiance in and of itself. He’s no stranger to political critique and commentary in his work, but this particular entry feels like more of a reminder. He isn’t going anywhere. His work isn’t going anywhere. His voice is not going anywhere. And neither is his ideology.

Review Courtesy of Adam Patla

Image Courtesy of Neon Via the Los Angeles Times