The Iranian government is determined to keep a film hidden, but acclaimed director Jafar Panahi is willing to face prison to bring it to light. This is a story of artistic defiance and the power of cinema to challenge authority.
Imagine having the chance to meet a legendary filmmaker, only to be unexpectedly caught in a whirlwind of political tension. That's what happened when I sat down with Jafar Panahi, the award-winning Iranian director of 'Taxi Tehran' and 'No Bears'. His latest masterpiece, 'It Was Just an Accident', has been making waves, winning the Palme d'Or at Cannes and generating Oscars buzz.
Our interview was set to take place in Sydney, but as I entered the room, a shocking phone call interrupted us. Panahi's son, also a filmmaker, called in a panic as news broke of Israel's bombing of Tehran. The director and his translator were visibly distressed, and we immediately canceled the interview.
But Panahi's resilience is remarkable. He rescheduled for the next day, determined to share his thoughts. He speaks of hope amidst Iran's recent political unrest, driven by waves of protest. Panahi aims to inspire his audiences with this newfound faith.
"I want to see the impact on Iranian audiences one day," he says, longing for a time when his films can be screened in his home country. But there's a catch: all of Panahi's films are banned in Iran, with the government accusing him of 'propaganda against the system'. His thought-provoking, socially conscious cinema challenges the status quo.
Panahi's dedication to his art is unwavering, even after enduring house arrest and imprisonment in 2010. In 2025, he was tried in absentia for 'propaganda activities' and now faces a year in prison and a reinstated travel ban. Yet, he remains fearless.
'It Was Just an Accident' draws from Panahi's own traumatic experience of blindfolded interrogations during his imprisonment. He explains how this heightened his sense of hearing, making him curious about his interrogator's identity. The film brings this to life with a group of persecuted characters, including a mechanic, a photographer, and a newlywed couple, who take matters into their own hands.
The film's tension is amplified by a prosthetic leg and its distinctive squeak, a sound that haunts the characters. Panahi reveals that this sound becomes a paranoid motif, questioning its reality. The film also explores the moral dilemma of potentially harming an innocent man, leaving viewers with a thought-provoking question: what would you do?
Panahi's films are shot with raw spontaneity, reflecting the urgency of his street-level storytelling. He shares how filming in a van provided a sense of security, but stepping outside was terrifying, mirroring the stress of being interrogated. This authenticity bleeds into his work.
Despite the risks, Panahi is unwavering in his commitment to filmmaking. He draws inspiration from the women who protested after Mahsa Amini's death, arrested for her hijab and later dying in custody. He admires their courage and feels it's time to make a film about it, even if it means facing consequences.
Panahi praises the bravery of women like Mariam Afshari and Hadis Pakbaten, who appear without hijabs in the film, a bold move in Iran. He highlights the risks they took, as professional actors would be banned for such actions. The hijab, he says, is a red line for the Iranian government.
As women in Iran defy the hijab rule, Panahi stands with them. He is proud to see the growing resistance, a testament to the power of individual choice. 'It Was Just an Accident' is a powerful statement, now showing in Australian cinemas, leaving audiences with a lingering question: what would you do in the face of injustice?
