There are sounds we’ve rather forget, yet they remain vivid in our mind and in our dreams. The voice of a government officer who blindfolded and tortured you for days, with your body hanging upside down like a ragdoll is guaranteed to remain permanently printed on your audio memory. This topic was addressed to excellent results (and a cathartic ending) in Roman Polanski’s Death and the Maiden (1994), featuring a breathtaking Sigourney Weaver. Iranian director Jafar Panahi has decided to give the topic a more humanistic touch, with a very mild twist of comedy, and a strong political flavour. The outcome is just as affective.
Eghbal (Ebrahim Azizi) is driving home with his heavily pregnant wife (Afssaneh Najmabadi). Their boisterous little daughter (Delmaz Najafi) is dancing in the back seat. The car breaks down with the family of three inside. A motorbike driver offers them a hand. His boss Vahid (Vahid Mobasseri) hears the distinctive squeak of an artificial leg and… bang! He knocks out the man and sticks him inside a large trove, in the back of his van. He is convinced that the driver in question is the ruthless interrogator who tortured him in prison. In order to make sure that he made no mistake, he picks up various friends in town who experienced a similar predicament. Wedding photographer Shiva (Maryam Afshari) is the first of them, and she too suspects that the man in the trove is indeed the culprit. The smell of his sweat gives it away, she argues. Hamid (Mohamad Ali Elyasmehr) has no such olfactory skills, yet his anger is such that he insists that they kill the man nevertheless.
These people engage in vaguely philosophical conversations in the back of the van, pondering on the ethics, the dynamics and the repercussions of revenge. Would torturing and killing their apparent torturer make them stoop to the same level? What if this is the wrong man? And what about his family? The proceedings take a very unexpected turn after the Eqbal’s pregnant wife and talkative daughter get in contact. The confrontation reaches its pinnacle in one very long sequence at the end of the story, when the power dynamics between the oppressed and the oppressor are minutely dissected. The oppressor too can feel bullied by the oppressed’s mere refusal or inability to cooperate, in a very perverse and dangerous inversion of values.
It Was Just an Accident is a serious and profound film lightened up by small moments of comic relief. A bride and a groom being unexpectedly dragged into the ordeal add a touch of absurdism into the conversations and interactions. Eqbal emptying his bowels, and his kidnappers vomiting in response make the proceedings a little scatological. A screaming child on the telephone throws it all into further disarray. Despite the its gloomy topic, It Was Just an Accident is not equivalent to film torture. Panahi never leaves viewers in the dark, or punch them in the face.
It Was Just an Accident premiered in the Official Competition of 78th Cannes International Film Festival, when this piece was originally written. Panahi was catapulted into the international film circuit exactly 30 years ago in Cannes, when his debut feature The White Balloon won the Camera d’Or. It won the Palme d’Or. It would be cathartic to watch the film establishment take its revenge on the oppressive and censorious Iranian regime. Also showing in Sarajevo, San Sebastian, and the BFI London Film Festival.
In cinemas on Friday, November 5th.
