“It Was Just an Accident”: When Awards Turn into Weapons in the West’s Wars

 

 Written By: Ali Taha Alnobani

We have grown accustomed to seeking out award-winning films to watch, trusting the institutions that grant these awards and the juries that are supposed to favor serious art. Among these institutions are the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, which grants the Oscars, and the Cannes Film Festival, which awards the Palme d’Or, among others. But do these institutions truly deserve our trust? Are they distant from the corridors of politics and the conspiracies of Western dominance and colonial ambition?

“A Minor Incident,” or It Was Just an Accident, is an Iranian film released in 2025, written and directed by Jafar Panahi. The film was produced without official filming permission from Iranian authorities and was backed by Arte France Cinéma. It has received more than 39 awards, including the Palme d’Or at Cannes, in addition to being nominated for the Oscar for Best International Feature Film. But does this recognition stem from the film’s true artistic merit, or from the need to prepare the ground for what is being orchestrated in the shadows for our region and for Iran in a reckless war that threatens the safety and stability of its peoples?

In the first part of this article, I will present a critical review of the film. In the second part, I will offer a comprehensive summary of its events in chronological order. If you have not watched the film, you may read the second part first, then return to the first.

First: Critical Review

The film’s opening scene symbolizes the entire narrative. Investigator Iqbal—the one-legged man—is driving at night when a dog suddenly crosses the road and he runs it over. His young daughter asks about it, saying that nothing justifies such an act, while the wife responds that such things happen often in the darkness of night. From the very beginning, the writer-director places words in the child’s mouth that do not suit her age—she appears to be around six years old. While she might feel sadness over the incident, she would hardly reach such a level of symbolic interpretation in such a situation.

Thus, the darkness symbolizes the political system in Iran, while the dog represents the opposition and political prisoners who will later appear in the film (Wahid, Hamid, Salar, Shiva, and the bride Julie). The car symbolizes the machinery of repression that crushes people mechanically, without compassion or humanity—embodied by Investigator Iqbal.

When Wahid asks Salar—a former political prisoner—to help identify the investigator placed in a box in the little bus delivers a lecture on tolerance and advises forgiveness, only to abruptly abandon this stance and direct Wahid to Shiva, another former political prisoner, to assist in identifying the investigator. The film initially tries to portray Salar as wise and forgiving, but then loses its dramatic thread, forcing a sudden and unjustified transformation into a vengeful character—as if people were colored lights in a nightclub, shifting hues within seconds without reason other than the director’s agenda.

Shiva also initially refuses to cooperate with Wahid, only to change her mind within seconds and head to the van. They attempt to identify the investigator by touching his amputated leg, claiming he used to force them to place their hands on it during interrogations. But why would he do that? What purpose would it serve? This contrived detail exposes the film’s weak and implausible writing.

None of them reach certainty in identifying Iqbal except Hamid, who touches his thigh and immediately declares, “It’s him.” What remarkable talent! Despite his agitation and impulsiveness, he can identify a man among a population of nearly one hundred million simply by touch.

The motif of “gift money” (hulwan) appears repeatedly: the gas station worker demands it from the groom, security guards extort it near a building, and even a nurse asks for it after childbirth. Is the director trying to portray systemic corruption? If so, what authority does a gas station worker have to impose such payments? What power do a nurse or guards hold to extort money? These examples reveal the filmmaker’s inability to present realistic depictions of corruption, resorting instead to absurd and unconvincing scenarios.

In another scene, Hamid jumps into the van and drives off to kill Iqbal, but the others manage to stop him—conveniently, the van slows down just enough for them to catch up. They then decide to buy sleeping pills to sedate Iqbal—even though he is already tied up in the box.

They take him to a remote area and wait for him to wake up, creating an artificial opportunity for dialogue among the group about their past suffering. However, these stories remain vague and incomplete. For example, Julie claims she was placed on an execution platform, but we are never told whether she was actually sentenced to death, why, or how she escaped.

Shiva later suggests killing Iqbal, but a phone rings from inside the box—his phone, which Wahid somehow never thought to confiscate. Ironically, Wahid had earlier taken the phones of his companions. Even more implausibly, the phone had not rung all day until that exact moment, when Iqbal’s daughter calls.

Wahid answers, and the daughter says her pregnant mother has fainted. Suddenly, the kidnappers transform into saints, rushing to take her to the hospital in the same van carrying the bound investigator—ignoring the obvious risks and the availability of ambulances. This moment marks a dramatic collapse of the film’s credibility, exposing its manipulative portrayal of opposition figures as angelic beings.

The absurdities continue: the child treats Wahid as if she knows him, introduces him as her uncle, and never questions her father’s absence. Even the hospital scene becomes a farce, with Wahid paying expenses using a bank card, as if the filmmaker were unaware that the wife of a security officer would typically have health insurance.

From this point onward, the film spirals into implausibility. After leaving the hospital, Shiva insists on continuing with Wahid, supposedly to fulfill a promise to Salar—despite his earlier contradictory portrayal.

In the final scene, they take Iqbal to a deserted area, where he offers weak resistance before being struck unconscious by Shiva with a shovel. They then tie him to a tree and engage in a dialogue summarizing the film’s ideological message: the regime punishes the guilty and sends the innocent to heaven—a logic the film labels as extremist.

Eventually, they release Iqbal, who returns in the end to seek revenge—suggesting a cyclical narrative.

Conclusion

It appears that the funding bodies behind this film sought to prepare for a broader confrontation with Iran through a politically driven narrative. However, the rushed production resulted in a weak and unconvincing work—one that exemplifies how Western cultural output can serve imperial ambitions by trivializing other cultures and shaping perceptions.

The film tells us that Iqbal ran over a dog in the dark, but never asks what the dog had done. Did it betray its country? Collaborate with enemies? Spread lies? The omission is telling.

After this review, can one truly believe that such a flawed film deserved its numerous awards and nominations, including:

Cannes Film Festival (2025) – Palme d’Or: Won

Academy Awards (2026) – Best International Feature Film: Nominated

Academy Awards (2026) – Best Original Screenplay: Nominated

Golden Globe Awards (2026) – Best Motion Picture (Drama): Nominated

Golden Globe Awards (2026) – Best Foreign Language Film: Nominated

Golden Globe Awards (2026) – Best Director & Screenplay: Nominated

Gotham Awards (2025) – Best International Feature: Won

Gotham Awards (2025) – Best Director & Screenplay: Won

Asia Pacific Screen Awards – Best Film: Won

Asia Pacific Screen Awards – Best Director: Won

New York Film Critics Circle – Best Director: Won

Sydney Film Festival – Sydney Film Prize: Won

American Film Institute – Special AFI Award: Won

This raises serious questions about the value of such awards. How can fundamental standards of artistic judgment be abandoned in favor of political objectives? Here in the Middle East, we have come to know these narratives well. We have received countless messages about democracy and human rights—yet what we have witnessed are wars, occupations, apartheid, and endless deception.

We must therefore approach these cultural institutions and their awards with great caution, recognizing their potential role in shaping narratives and even paving the way for conflict—as exemplified by “A Minor Incident.”

 

Second: Film Summary

The film opens with a nighttime scene: a man is driving a car with his wife and their young daughter, who appears to be about six or seven years old, through pitch darkness. He suddenly stops after hitting a stray dog crossing the road. He steps out, removes the body, then gets back in and drives on. The child asks what happened, and he replies that it was just a dog crossing the road. She objects, insisting that nothing justifies such an act, while the mother remarks that such incidents happen frequently in the darkness of night.

Shortly afterward, the car breaks down in front of a building. The man asks for help, hoping someone can direct him to a mechanic. One of the building’s residents temporarily fixes the car so he can later take it to a repair shop. At the same time, the film’s protagonist, (Wahid), appears and recognizes the man—(Iqbal), known among political prisoners as “the one-legged man”—by his voice and the sound of his prosthetic foot. It is important to note that (Wahid) does not know Iqbal’s face, as he had been blindfolded during his time in prison.

After the car is fixed, (Wahid) mounts a motorcycle and follows the investigator’s car to identify his home. The next day, driving a van, he deliberately hits (Iqbal), loads him into the box inside the van, and speeds off to a remote desert location. There, he digs a pit, places the man inside, and begins to cover him with dirt while (Iqbal) pleads for his life, insisting that he is not the person Wahid is looking for, but merely an ordinary man with a wife and child waiting for him.

Fearing he might be mistaken, (Wahid) hesitates, pulls him out, and returns him to the box in the van. He then seeks help from a former political prisoner, (Salar), to identify the man. Salar refuses and advises forgiveness but soon retracts his position and directs (Wahid) to a woman named (Shiva), also a former political prisoner. When Wahid finds her, it turns out she is a photographer and journalist.

Shiva happens to be photographing a bride and groom. She initially refuses to help but quickly changes her mind. It also turns out that the bride, (Julie), is herself a former political prisoner. Both Shiva and Julie attempt to identify (Iqbal), but neither can confirm with certainty that he is the “one-legged man.” Shiva then suggests they consult her former fiancé, (Hamid), another ex-political prisoner.

They all travel with Hamid in the van to a secluded area in the city to discuss the matter. Hamid identifies Iqbal by touching his amputated leg, claiming it was lost during the war in Syria. He immediately tries to attack and kill him, but the others restrain him. Soon, two security guards from a nearby building approach and question them. To avoid suspicion, the group pays them money under the pretense that it is wedding sweets.

(Wahid) suggests that everyone leave and let him handle the matter alone, but they refuse. The groom asks his bride to withdraw, but she insists on staying. Despite Hamid’s certainty, the others—Wahid, Shiva, and Julie—remain doubtful about Iqbal’s identity.

The van breaks down again, and they push it before heading to a gas station, where the attendant demands a “wedding tip,” which they pay. Later, the bride exits the van feeling nauseated, and they discover that the captive has soiled himself. They stop under a bridge to clean both the man and the vehicle. While carrying him, Wahid complains of back pain, attributing it to the beatings he endured in prison.

During this moment, Hamid suddenly jumps into the van and drives off to kill the “one-legged man,” but the others chase him down and stop him. They then go to a pharmacy, purchase sleeping pills, and give them to Iqbal. They drive to a remote location and wait for him to wake up.

While waiting, Julie recounts that Hamid once accused her of being a government informant. She describes a traumatic experience in prison: she was blindfolded, taken to what she believed was an execution platform, and made to wait for hours while hearing instructions about how she would be hanged. Eventually, she heard a man order her to be taken down, suggesting she must first lose her virginity before being sent to hell—based on the belief that a virgin would go to heaven. The film never clarifies whether this was carried out or how she later left prison.

Hamid tells the groom, (Ali), that his father rose quickly in status while Hamid himself was being dragged across prison floors. He is the most insistent on killing Iqbal, calling the others cowards and warning that if they do not kill him, he will kill them—since he has memorized Wahid’s voice.

Shiva enters the van and tells Hamid to kill Iqbal, but at that moment, a phone rings. They discover that Iqbal still has his phone. Wahid answers it and hears Iqbal’s young daughter asking for help because her pregnant mother has fainted.

Despite Hamid’s warnings that this could be a trap, they decide to go to Iqbal’s house and take his wife and daughter to the hospital. The child claims Wahid is her uncle, but the receptionist insists that the husband must be present for a childbirth case. A doctor intervenes and allows the admission. Wahid pays the hospital fees and later asks the child why she did not call other relatives; she replies that her father told her not to contact anyone else and that their relatives live far away.

The nurse announces that the woman has given birth and asks for sweets. Hamid buys a box of candy and distributes it. Money is collected from Shiva to pay the nurse, while Hamid refuses to contribute.

After settling the hospital bill, Wahid again asks everyone to leave, but Shiva insists on staying, saying she does not want to let him down—or perhaps because she promised Salar.

Wahid and Shiva then drive to a deserted place at night and take Iqbal out of the van. Despite being tightly bound and having only one leg, Iqbal attempts to resist. Shiva strikes him with a shovel, knocking him unconscious. Wahid expresses surprise at her violence, but she claims he would have killed him otherwise.

They tie Iqbal to a tree and pour water on him to wake him. Wahid confronts him, recounting how he was a poor worker demanding his rights, starving and unpaid for months, until Iqbal turned him into a criminal. He recalls being tortured and humiliated in prison.

Wahid then tells Iqbal that his wife has been taken to the hospital, prompting Iqbal to shout angrily, asking if he touched her. Wahid reassures him that she gave birth and he did not touch her.

Iqbal finally admits he is the investigator and declares that Wahid is incapable of killing him. He claims he sacrificed his leg for the regime and that if Wahid is guilty, he has been punished, and if innocent, he will go to heaven.

Wahid responds by comparing this logic to extremist groups like ISIS, who justify killing innocents in the same way.

Iqbal says that if he returns home and finds his family safe, he will leave Wahid alone; if he dies, he will achieve martyrdom.

Shiva intervenes, mocking his notion of martyrdom, slapping him and threatening him with the shovel. She accuses him of supporting authority and recalls how he humiliated her in prison, even asking how much money she would take to strip.

She tears his clothes; he expresses remorse, and she begins to cry. Iqbal insists he is just like them, trying to earn a living, and begs to be released.

Wahid leaves Iqbal’s phone and bank card beside him and gives him a scalpel to cut his bindings, telling him the road is a fifteen-minute walk away.

In the final scene, Wahid is seen moving into a new residence. A neighbor congratulates him. As he enters the stairwell, he hears the distinct sound of the “one-legged man’s” footsteps—recognizing that Iqbal has returned, likely to arrest him.