Cannes Diary 07: Palme d'Or Winner "It was just an accident"
Sunday, May 25, 2025 at 12:02PM by Elisa Giudici
Jafar Panahi's "It was just an accident"
In awarding the Palme d'Or to Jafar Panahi, Jury President Juliette Binoche was keen to emphasize that the prize was not awarded due to the notorious political and judicial circumstances surrounding the Iranian filmmaker, but rather for the profound humanity that permeates his cinema. The reference, quite evidently, was to those who venomously suggest that the oppressive conditions Panahi and his colleagues have battled for decades somehow aid their entry into the festival's honor roll. Yet, the issue is far more complex, much like the narrative of It Was Just an Accident itself...
Indeed, to assert that the victory has no connection to politics is reductive. Panahi's film—now benefiting from a degree of operational freedom that allows him to shoot, edit, and assemble a work with a less makeshift formal appearance—is intrinsically linked to Iran's political situation. At the heart of a story that echoes Godot and delves into the profound moral dilemmas characteristic of Iranian cinema, lies a seemingly minor highway accident in which a dog is killed. Behind the wheel, a father tells his horrified young daughter in the backseat, "It was God who put that stray in my path; I didn't see it." The child, in a startling moment of lucidity, accusingly murmurs that her father is a murderer, protesting that Allah did not orchestrate this sequence of events.
Yet, there is something of an Old Testament-like parable in the way the accident brings the driver into contact with one of the film's five other protagonists, who recognizes the distinct sound his prosthetic leg makes as it scrapes the ground. If Allah did indeed place that dog in his path, was it to make him encounter five individuals he once tortured, who must now decide his fate after one of them abducts him and hides him in their van? Following this introduction, the film shifts to their perspective, introducing further moral enigmas that compel us to question the true intentions of any divine entity that might have brought this group together. Once we are no longer in the driver's shoes, we discover he claims not to be the man who tortured his captors; he alleges he lost his leg not in Syria, but in another car accident, potentially transforming him into an innocent victim of a revenge fueled by traumatic pasts.
The five thus find themselves driving across Tehran, confined within a vehicle's interior—a space that has become the principal cinematic setting for Panahi, who for years was forced to shoot clandestinely inside his car. Today, he employs those same resourceful, clandestine solutions, refining them into a personal and charismatic cinematic language, while also acknowledging that his art has been inevitably shaped by the censorship he has endured.
How, then, can one claim that It Was Just an Accident is not a political film when the moral dilemma at its core revolves entirely around its protagonists' assessment of how much violence they are prepared to use to escape their situation, and how far their own morality will permit them to act in the very manner of those who destroyed their lives?
In one of the film's most poignant passages, a woman contemplates the "aftermath," much like Panahi himself, who, incredibly, already gazes towards a future Iran—post-regime, post-violence, post-censorship—and is already preoccupied with the moral consequences of the actions that will be necessary to liberate the country. "They say that if they kill an innocent, he will go to paradise, and with God, they justify all their actions. If we kill him, what will we hide behind?" she asks, dismayed.
It Was Just an Accident is yet another significant film from Panahi. It narrates the Iranian situation, profoundly shaped by the country's political conditions, yet it also seeks the Iranian essence, contemplating the future, reckoning with wounds and traumas, but also with the pervasive corruption the regime has allowed to flourish. There is even a vein of dark humor in how Panahi lightens dramatic moments with the recurring gag of everyone, even the Revolutionary Guards—armed not with pistols, but with POS machines—demanding bribes and kickbacks.
While perhaps not Panahi's absolute finest work, it marks a return to a non-precarious formal elegance for an auteur who operates at an exceptionally high level. His portrayal of the human condition is unparalleled, and furthermore, despite the immense difficulties, he manages to place his own oppression in perspective, steadfastly looking towards the future.
more from Cannes 2025
- Sirât d Oliver Laxe
- Die My Love d Lynne Ramsay
- Eddington d Ari Aster
- Sound of Falling d Mascha Schilinski
- Christopher McQuarrie interview
- Juliette Binoche Jury press conference
Reader Comments (3)
Thank you for your coverage of the festival Elisa!
After I watch a movie that you reviewed, I end up agreeing with your opinions so I look forward to your writings each year.
Thank you for your coverage of the festival Elisa!
After I watch a movie that you reviewed, I end up agreeing with your opinions so I look forward to your writings each year.
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