By Josh Bonador
There’s an interesting concept that appears to partially loom over Iranian cinema known by the Persian name of ‘Siahnamayi.’ Literally translating to ‘portraying in black’, it describes the action of misrepresenting social situations or experiences as worse than they actually are – and I want you to bookend that word “actually” with two, flexing peace signs to form your best airquotes gesture. For the term seems to be used by critics to undervalue and discredit certain kinds of Iranian films: ones that attempt to shed light on and fully display the unfortunately grim realities of the Iranian people. The rapidly developing and on-going protests and ubiquitous unrest in the country see calls for religious liberation as chants from a student protest just this month in Tehran cry for “freedom and equality.”
In March 2025 it was estimated that 22-50% of Iranians live below the poverty line due to an unprecedented economic crisis in the country and on May 21st truck drivers (alongside workers in the healthcare and food industries) across the country went on strike motivated by rising insurance premiums, poor road infrastructure and a proposed hike in fuel prices. A single day before in the city of Cannes, France, humanitarian director Jafar Panahi premiered his latest effort It Was Just an Accident where he keeps one critical eye on his government while the other remains fixed on a single day in the life of Vahid, a once-political prisoner, now living as a mechanic who has a chance encounter with his torturer. It is a film that immediately allies itself with the cries Panahi’s people as everyday Iranian citizens are depicted navigating the trauma inflicted on them by the authority be it through violence or a deliberate rejection of compulsory hijab laws
The film quietly opens with an innocuous scene of a family drive home complete with hyper-active child spotlit by iPad backlight, patient and expecting mother as passenger and stoic, tough-loving father behind the wheel. It’s a scene that drums up laughs but also establishes tension as the father plays the role of killjoy, opting to turn the music down and remain unenthused by the hijinks of his daughter and stuffed animal accomplice. As the scene reaches its climax, ‘joy’ isn’t the only thing that gets killed as a stray dog goes unnoticed by the father and dies on impact, forcing introductions to the concepts of morality, divine providence and death to the young girl followed by the title drop from the mother as a means of simple explanation. All of this drama is gorgeously captured by cinematographer, and frequent collaborator of Panahi, Amin Jafari who magnifies this moral uneasiness through a camera that skulks with the rattled father as he exits the vehicle and remains in uncomfortable close-up of him relenting only when he is forced to drag the helpless animal to the side of the dirt road, his silhouette bathed in red brake light from a now malfunctioning family car.
Events kick into full gear once Vahid, the father’s impromptu and goofy mechanic, decides to isolate and abduct the father into his work van on the suspicion he was once his brutally ruthless interrogator and with the help of other known victims, turn that suspicion into verification. Viewers familiar with the director Jafar Panahi might immediately draw parallels to the protagonist Vahid, a man also convicted for “propaganda against the Islamic Republic.” Through him, a pressing question surfaces: is it right to respond to systemic violence by exercising our own sense of violent justice? Leading man Vahid Mobasseri’s expressions range from frenzied, overwhelmed and weathered as intimate close-ups from inside the dusty van reflect a wavering moral compass and as his accomplices eventually begin dominating the frame, so too does he begin to let the situation grow increasingly out of hand.
It’s in these carefully considered interior shots whereIt Was Just an Accident reveals itself to, at its heart, be a road movie strangely reminiscent of 2006 American film Little Miss Sunshine, trading its rallying cry of self-affirmation for a sombre dirge lamenting the death of a trauma-free life while, retaining the body in the trunk and the consequences that come with it. Sharing in likeness to Little Miss Sunshine, Panahi’s offering is able to scrounge up some important moments of levity that relieve us of the powder keg predicament that Vahid is locked in his van with. Violence is sometimes given a slapstick personality through the abrupt bonk of a car door used as a weapon or by way of physical comedy as the meticulously assembled ensemble staging shows the rag-tag group scrambling to physically overpower their hotheaded compatriot going zero to one hundred on their prisoner. The motif of the bank card also cleverly provides scathing social commentary while not skimping out on the comedy as Vahid and his crew find new ways to be financially extorted be it by bribe-seeking parking lot security, the healthcare system or an overzealous gas-station attendant inputting extra zeroes on the payment terminal.
It Was Just an Accident does eventually take its foot off the gas towards its final moments as the van finally arrives at a destination with the day’s moral quagmire seemingly in the rearview mirror. Panahi’s last four feature films have been produced and filmed illegally. The aforementioned Iranian truck drivers entered their third day of strike while It Was Just an Accident received the illustrious Palme d’Or and Panahi, global recognition as a result – a recognition that surely spans from regular theatre-goers to amateur filmmakers to entire government bodies. As Vahid valiantly presses on throughout legal and moral hardship so too does director Jafar Panahi as he adds another incredibly poignant and meditative work to his already colourful filmography, regardless of how overtly black some would claim it is.