Jafar Panahi’s “It Was Just an Accident,” the 2025 Cannes Palme d’Or winner, is a politically charged thriller that feels impossible to separate from its country of origin, Iran, and director. The film carries an extraordinary amount of risk; it is Panahi’s first feature made after his seven-month imprisonment and was shot secretly without any permits. Beyond this, though, it’s striking how Panahi manages to transform defiance into a dust-covered thriller which meditates on cycles of violence and the psychological residue of state brutality. The film builds tension quietly and methodically before erupting into one of the year’s strongest final acts. Despite an uneven middle stretch, where the film struggles under the weight of repetition, “It Was Just an Accident” concludes as a must-watch.
The film opens with a simple event: a man (Ebrahim Azizi) driving at night with his family accidentally hits a dog, forcing him to pull into a garage on the side of the road. There, Vahid (Vahid Mobasseri), a quiet mechanic, recognizes the man’s voice and squeaky prosthetic knee from his past life as a prisoner of the Iranian government. Vahid believes the mysterious man to be “Eghbal,” a guard who brutalized him and several other fellow prisoners. Quickly, Vahid kidnaps Eghbal, drags him out to the desert and initiates a morally gray journey to confirm the man’s identity.
Panahi leans heavily into ambiguity from the film’s start. The man denies Vahid’s claims, even pointing to scars on his knee that didn’t match Eghbal’s. These early sections unfold as a psychological standoff, marked by long car rides and Panahi’s realistic cinematography.
When Vahid seeks confirmation from other former prisoners, the film slows down a bit. Each new character, including photographer Shiva (Mariam Afshari), the engaged couple Goli (Hadis Pakbaten) and Ali (Majid Panahi) and the short-tempered Hamid (Mohamad Ali Elyasmehr), is asked the same question: Is this the man who tortured us? Their answers, like Vahid’s, bounce between absolute certainty and extreme doubt, creating a tension shaped by trauma and blindfolds. Here, Panahi also toys with the difference between justice and revenge. Clearly, the repetition here intends to show how the past’s violence can corrode certainty and memory. However, the film’s middle portion loses dramatic feel, circling the same emotional territory even when Panahi attempts to use moments of comedy to mix up the rhythm. The momentum that defines the opening begins to stall as the film cycles through variations on essentially the same confrontation, with minimal progress toward resolution.
However, the film regains its footing once the group becomes entangled in the captive man’s family life, escorting his daughter and pregnant wife to the hospital after a sudden medical emergency. Although I initially saw this shift as strange, the section is emotionally charged and shows that Vahid, unlike Eghbal, has humanity and prioritizes the lives of virtual strangers over reconciling any past he may share with the man. The rush here also helps the story reset itself, placing Vahid and Shiva, the group’s most compelling figures, back at its center. Shiva, far more controlled but just as wounded as Vahid, serves as a perfect foil to Vahid’s more impulsive nature. This duality forms the backbone of the film, especially as Hamid, Goli and Ali take a backseat, both in the story and literally in the van.
As the film reaches the final section, a nighttime confrontation between the man, Vahid and Shiva occurs, allowing Panahi to deliver his most distressing work. Here, under a solitary desert tree, the audience is left to consider Eghbal’s identity. The scene lands with uneasy ambiguity, generating a suffocating tension without overselling any emotions. Panahi’s commitment to realism reaches its natural peak here, with long takes and still camerawork. The film’s final moments leave us wondering if Vahid will ever truly be able to move on from the memory of Eghbal and the nightmare of the prison, underscoring the point that “It Was Just an Accident.”
Overall, the craft is intentionally understated. The cinematography keeps the audience embedded in the streets of Tehran without feeling intrusive. The desert sequences are haunting. The performances across the board are strong, although Mobasseri and Afshari clearly stand out as the best. Mobasseri plays Vahid as visibly coiled, but clearly bubbling under the surface. Afshari gives the film weight, delivering her anger late in the film with a devastating monologue that lingered with me after I left the theater. Finally, Azizi, limited for most of the runtime due to his being blindfolded, gagged and left unconscious at various points, is chilling in his few moments.
In the awards race, the film is positioned for a true run. Distributed by NEON, “It Was Just an Accident” is one of a handful of international contenders positioning themselves for a Best Picture run. It’s a shoo-in for a Best International Feature Film nomination at the 98th Academy Awards, with a real possibility of a win. Although acting recognition is unlikely, the film’s political importance, its wider critical acclaim and Cannes’ top prize should keep it firmly in the conversation throughout the season.
As with many films emerging from Iran’s underground cinematic sphere, “It Was Just an Accident” is ultimately a film whose significance extends beyond its flaws. Panahi has crafted a film that is complex in tone and visually grounded in what is undeniably one of the year’s most urgent releases.
