One of the buzziest films at Cannes this past Spring is It Was Just an Accident, which took home the prestigious Palme d’Or. It took months before I was able to see it, but it was well worth the wait. This is my intro to Jafar Panahi, an Iranian film director, screenwriter, and film editor, whose films are often banned in his own country because they often expose the regime’s atrocities and injustices. He’s been arrested and imprisoned numerous times, even banned from making films for 20 years, so he made his films in secret, this one included.

Knowing that gives me much more appreciation for It Was Just an Accident, which is mysterious and gripping right from the start. It begins at night when a family of three is traveling home from an event. Suddenly, the car gets a jolt from hitting something, and from the sounds, it appears to be a stray dog. The man goes to a nearby shop to get car repair help, and someone named Vahid (Vahid Mobasseri) recognizes him from the sound of his peg leg, and he is immediately in a state of shock. I went into this film blindly, so it was a mystery to me why Vahid goes into panic mode upon seeing the man.

At first, I figured Vahid was out to rob or kidnap him for ransom, but it quickly becomes obvious that the guy, who we later find out is Eghbal (Ebrahim Azizi), is someone from Vahid’s past that still haunts him. Panahi doesn’t lay everything out for us; instead, he takes us on an internal journey with Vahid and others who are dealing with the same trauma while imprisoned by the regime. Vahid grabs Eghbal into his minivan and is ready to bury him alive in the desert, but his protestations make Vahid doubt that he might have the wrong guy.

One would think this dark subject matter would result in a somber and gloomy film, but it’s surprisingly hilarious at times. The comedic elements seem organic, stemming from the characters’ interaction and the seemingly commonplace corruption that’s become mundane, that they don’t even bat an eyelid. Having grown up in Indonesia in the 80s, I can relate to the nonchalant bribery of government officials, even police, as a common way of life.

Vahid grows increasingly uncertain about Eghbal’s true identity and contacts his friends who might recognize ‘Peg Leg,’ as he refers to him. He disrupts an engagement photo shoot featuring Shiva (Mariam Afshari), who initially attempts to dismiss Vahid but eventually consents to see the kidnapped man in the van. She proposes sedating the man in the box while they figure out exactly who he is. Still feeling uncertain, since they were all blindfolded during their torture, the engaged couple also gets involved. No one can verify Eghbal’s identity until Hamid (Mohamad Ali Elyasmehr), Shiva’s ex-partner, arrives, intent on killing him immediately.

The group then starts to bicker over deciding Eghbal’s fate. The lengthy, tense discussions expose their deep-seated pain and bubbling rage. Seemingly buried trauma resurfaces, reopening old wounds. Unlike the coordinated tribunal of Nuremberg, this ragtag group of wounded souls forms a disjointed judging committee. They may have shared similar trauma, but each has their own sense of right and wrong. Panahi masterfully forces viewers to grapple with our sense of morality alongside these characters. At what point does the quest for justice shift into a cycle of revenge? Is it ever justifiable for victims to replicate the brutality of those who wronged them?

The movie kicks off with an accident, and Vahid’s adventure appears to be packed with seemingly accidental situations where tension runs high. Yet, there’s a significant amount of humanity that starkly highlights the difference between a hero and a villain. Vahid’s actions, in particular, are infused with profound empathy, somehow not corroded by the emotional and physical scars he bears. It would be understandable if he chose to close himself off from feeling for the family of the torturer. Yet he takes the road less traveled, which makes the finale hits even harder.

The fact that Pahani had to create this film in secret makes it even more remarkable. Despite clear time and budget limitations, Amin Jafari‘s visuals and camerawork are truly striking, capturing everything from the cramped feeling of the packed minivan to the stark beauty of the barren desert. The pacing is deliberate, not exactly slow, as it’s packed with suspenseful moments and heart-wrenching dilemmas.

The acting is impressive, especially considering Panahi’s choice to blend professional and non-professional actors. Azizi and Mobasseri really shine, delivering some of the most gripping scenes on screen. I appreciate that Panahi forgoes the flashbacks showing the torture scenes. It’s unnecessary since their dialogues effectively communicate just how harrowing the ordeals were. What really stands out to me is that final shot. The last few minutes, filmed brilliantly with astute sound design, created the most nail-biting conclusion that literally took my breath away. It’s such a perfect way to wrap up the film, as Panahi doesn’t provide us with easy answers to the tough questions raised throughout.

With It Was Just an Accident (2025) taking home the Palme d’Or at the 78th Cannes Film Festival, Jafar Panahi has made history as the only director to snag the top awards at all four of the major international film festivals. All the accolades are well-deserved, and it’s been submitted as France’s official entry for Best International Feature at next year’s Oscars. It’s one I’ll be rooting for this award season. Be sure not to miss this!

Have you seen this film? I’d love to hear what you think!

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