Jafar Panahi’s It Was Just an Accident begins with a bump in the road — literally. A man hits a dog on a dark Iranian highway, and from that small mistake spirals a chain of guilt, corruption, and quiet fury. What starts as a roadside mishap turns into a grotesque moral farce: bribes tapped on card readers, weddings collapsing, and the long shadow of state violence falling over every polite exchange.
Panahi directs with the poise of a man long practised at evading censors — sly, unflinching, and darkly amused by power’s absurd theatre. His characters drift between tragedy and farce, like citizens rehearsing the same lie for different audiences.
It Was Just an Accident is mordant, chaotic, and painfully human — a parable of control and complicity disguised as chance. In Panahi’s Iran, even the accidents feel designed.