With Iran gripped by nationwide protests that activists say have left at least 2,600 people dead, we recently spoke with renowned Iranian filmmaker Jafar Panahi, whose latest film, It Was Just an Accident, was shot entirely in secret inside Iran and won the Palme d’Or at the 2025 Cannes Film Festival. The film has since been shortlisted for an Oscar in the international feature category. Panahi dedicated a recent New York Film Critics Circle Award to Iranian protesters.
It Was Just an Accident centers on a group of former prisoners who kidnap a man they believe was their interrogator and grapple with whether to exact revenge, and Panahi says the film drew directly from his own experience with state violence and repression. Panahi has been repeatedly arrested in Iran, served prison sentences, and was recently sentenced in absentia to an additional year in prison and a two-year travel ban.
In an extended interview, Panahi discussed the protests in Iran, fighting against censorship, and the risk of prolonged cycles of violence. “I have always said this regime will fall. It is impossible for it to not fall, because it’s a failed state in every sense,” he said. “What I care about is the future of my country. I want the country to stand. I want there to be peace, and I want our children and the children of our children to not be facing bullets.” He was interpreted by Sheida Dayani.
This is a rush transcript. Copy may not be in its final form.
AMY GOODMAN: This is Democracy Now!, democracynow.org, The War and Peace Report. I’m Amy Goodman, with Nermeen Shaikh.
NERMEEN SHAIKH: We turn now to Iran, where activists say at least 2,600 people have been killed since December 28th in nationwide protests that have been described as the biggest challenge to Iran’s rulers since the 1979 revolution. The number of protesters killed is likely much higher than the reported figures, given the nationwide communications blackout. Amnesty International has accused Iranian security forces of committing mass killings on an unprecedented scale amid an ongoing internet shutdown.
President Trump has repeatedly threatened to attack Iran, but his tone appeared to shift on Wednesday.
PRESIDENTDONALD TRUMP: We’ve been told that the killing in Iran is stopping, and it’s stopped, and it’s stopping. And there’s no plan for executions, or an execution or executions. So, I’ve been told that on good authority.
AMY GOODMAN: President Trump’s comment came a day after he urged Iranian protesters to continue, while saying, quote, “Help is on the way.” The New York Times reports Trump has still not ruled out launching a military attack. The U.S. has already withdrawn military personnel from some bases in the Middle East. The U.K. has also temporarily closed its embassy in Tehran. Iran has threatened to hit U.S. bases, as well as Israel, in the event of U.S. airstrikes.
NERMEEN SHAIKH: On Wednesday, we sat down with world-renowned Iranian filmmaker Jafar Panahi here in our studio. His most recent film, It Was Just an Accident, received the Palme d’Or at the 2025 Cannes Film Festival and has been shortlisted for an Oscar in the international feature film category. The film was shot entirely in secret inside Iran. Earlier this year, he was awarded the best director prize by the New York Film Critics Circle. Jafar Panahi is the only living director to have won the top prizes at Europe’s three major film festivals: the Palme d’Or at Cannes, the Golden Bear in Berlin and the Golden Lion in Venice. His other award-winning films include his debut feature, The White Balloon, as well as Taxi and The Circle. Panahi was recently sentenced to one year in prison and a two-year travel ban in absentia by the Tehran Islamic Revolutionary Court. He’s been arrested multiple times in Iran and served two prison sentences for defying censorship laws and for spreading, quote, “anti-government propaganda.”
AMY GOODMAN: On Tuesday night, Jafar Panahi spoke at the National Board of Review gala here in New York, and he won an award and denounced what he called a “bloodbath” in Iran.
JAFAR PANAHI: [interpreted by Sheida Dayani] It is an absolute honor to receive this award from the National Board of Review. I would like to express my sincere gratitude to the board. But I cannot speak easily, because as we stand here, the state of Iran is gunning down protesters, and a savage massacre continues blatantly on the streets of Iran.
Perhaps cinema is supposed to make the viewers laugh and cry. It is supposed to make us feel terrified and safe. Perhaps cinema must make us fall in love, then kill us with love and teach us and make us think. But today, the real scene is not on screens, but on the streets of Iran.
The Islamic Republic has caused a bloodbath to delay its collapse. Bodies are piling up on bodies. And those who have survived are searching for signs of their loved ones through mountains of corpses. This is no longer a metaphor. This is not a story. This is not a film. This is a reality ridden with bullets day after day.
In accepting this award, I consider it my duty to call on artists and members of the global film community to speak out and not remain silent. Use any voice and any platform you have. Call your governments — call on your governments to confront this human catastrophe, rather than turn a blind eye. Do not let blood dry in the darkness of amnesia.
Today, cinema has the power to stand by defenseless people. Let’s stand by them.
Thank you, everyone. Thank you not just for presenting this award, but for introducing this film so that it can be seen. What we wanted for this film to do was to say that the cycle of violence needs to stop. But, unfortunately, what is happening today seems to be saying that the cycle of violence is continuing. Thank you.
AMY GOODMAN: That was critically acclaimed Iranian filmmaker Jafar Panahi. On Wednesday, he joined us in our studio. I started by asking him about his latest film, It Was Just an Accident, in the context of the nationwide protests in Iran.
JAFAR PANAHI: [interpreted by Sheida Dayani] This film is about my experience and the experience of other prisoners with whom I lived in prison for seven months. When they arrest a prisoner of conscience, the first thing they do is they take them to interrogation sessions. The interrogation sessions are such that the prisoner is placed in front of the wall. They are blindfolded, and they’re given a piece of paper and a pen. And a person behind the prisoner keeps walking and asking questions. And the auditory sense of the prisoner is the sense that works most, and the prisoner keeps wondering if they’re going to recognize this person if they meet them outside. This has become the center of my film, and it has been mixed with the stories that I have heard from friends inside the prison. The film was made. It premiered at Cannes. It became successful, and now it is in the Oscar campaign.
And now I’m involved in the Oscar campaign, and I just keep hearing the very difficult news from my country. What I am hearing is just a catastrophe. When they shut down the internet, followed by the protests of the people, we issued a statement saying that the complete shutdown of the internet and telecommunications will end in a massacre. But we never imagined the massacre to be in such dimensions and for there to be a bloodbath. From this, you can understand that the regime knows it has reached the end, but in order to cling to power, it can kill as much as possible. And there is no rationality into its murder and killing machine. Usually such dictatorships, when they get to this point, still have certain individuals who think rationally or think about the future of the country, for whom the country is the most important thing. They intervene at that point, and they resort to people’s demands. But I am sorry to say that it seems there is no rationality within this violent dictatorship. You cannot even find one or two people who would think rationally. I am very sorry that it has gotten to this point.
I do not have any trustworthy news from inside Iran. I don’t know what is happening. I don’t know where my colleagues are, where my family is. It is only the bits and pieces that you hear. But I can only hope that people can get what they want, my fellow Iranians can get their hands to what they want.
NERMEEN SHAIKH: So, when the protests began, they were focused on economic issues, the dire economic conditions in Iran, but then the protests became about a lot of other things. Could you explain what you think has made these protests so enormous? What are the issues that are at stake?
JAFAR PANAHI: [translated] Nothing just happens overnight. It has been about 47 years that people have had demands, and the state has only met them in one way. They’ve had civil demands. They’ve had economic demands. They’ve tried to make the regime hear, but no one is hearing within the state. People have had experiences, and every time, they’ve come one step forward. In the Woman, Life, Freedom movement, people crossed the red lines that were unimaginable, and eventually they pushed the regime back. And now all those civil demands and economic demands have been combined and intertwined, and they have brought people together from all echelons of the society. And this is why the protests are so widespread. And this is why the regime feels that it has reached an end and that people have reached the point that they can no longer tolerate.
NERMEEN SHAIKH: So, you mentioned 47 years of demands and frustration in Iran. Forty-seven years ago was, of course, the Islamic Revolution, which began with protests against the shah. At the time, you were a high school student in your final year of high school, and you joined those protests. What were you thinking the protests against the shah would enable? And your response when Ayatollah Khomeini came, and it became an Islamic Revolution?
JAFAR PANAHI: [translated] As you said, I was only a student in the last year of high school. And back then, the thing we needed the most was freedom. Economic demands were not part of it. It was mostly about freedom of expression. And the clerical class took advantage of the fact that people had religious roots, and they came to power. But, of course, exactly one year after coming to power, they started the massacre, and, of course, the war with Iraq became an excuse. And then people’s demands meant nothing, people’s needs meant nothing, and the regime started focusing on other things and making them its priorities. Those were not parts of people’s demands, but the regime kept insisting on them.
NERMEEN SHAIKH: So, what was it at the time that drew you to cinema, to film?
JAFAR PANAHI: [translated] I was about 10 or 12 years old. There was a library at our neighborhood. There was a library in our neighborhood that had a filmmaking group that worked with eight-millimeter films. I was a very chubby kid back then. And just because of that fact, they invited me to act in a short film. And when I went on the set, it was the first time that I was seeing a camera and a person who was standing behind the camera and looking through the viewpoint. And they would tell us what to do and how to act and what to say. The whole time, I was only focused on looking through the camera, but because I was hyper kid, they would not allow me to get anywhere near the camera. But this longing stayed with me, to look through the viewpoint.
Also, we lived in a poor, working-class neighborhood. And when I became 13 or 14 years old, I started working over the summers when I was not in school, and I was able to save my money and buy a Zenith photography camera. And it was the first time I could see the world through a camera. I started photography, and gradually I became attracted to images. And then I got accepted into the university for cinema.
AMY GOODMAN: When did the state tell you to stop making movies?
JAFAR PANAHI: [translated] Censorship is very strong in Iran, but filmmakers always found a way around it. Because films about children were not censored as much, filmmakers usually started their career by making films about children. And as soon as we entered the world of the adults, and in my case, with the world, The Circle, problems started. We started having problems with censorship, and we were nearing red lines. It’s only been my first film that’s been shown in Iran, The White Balloon. My other films, The Circle, Crimson Gold and Offside, have not been screened. And then I realized I cannot get anywhere like this.
We started working on a film with Mohammad Rasoulof in my place, in my home. And back then, we did not have an experience of how to make an underground film. That’s when they raided my home, and they arrested us. We had only done 25% of the film. And then we went to prison, and we got the sentence. And they gave me a sentence that banned me from working. I could not work. I could not write. I could not interview. I could not travel outside Iran.
And that is when I started looking for a solution. And I asked, “If I am not allowed to make films for 20 years, what is it that I can do?” Filmmaking is all I know. I remember back then, many students, university students, used to come to me and complain that they cannot make films because the situation is very difficult. I kept wondering if I should also be complaining like them, or should I be thinking about solutions. Because they had told me that I’m not allowed to make films, I made a film, and I said, “This is not a film.”
And then I asked myself, “What other profession can I do?” I really don’t know anything else, because I’m a very clumsy person. But then I thought, “I know how to drive, so I can become a cab driver.” But I thought, “Even as a taxi driver, I cannot let go of cinema, so I’m going to hide a camera in my car, and I’m going to make the stories of my passengers.” And this became the film Taxi. And when it became successful, those students would no longer complain to me that they cannot work. They, too, started looking for solutions. And this solution finding became the norm, to the point that now the best films of Iranian cinema are underground films.
AMY GOODMAN: So, you made This Is Not a Film, as you called it, in 2011 with iPhones in your living room. That’s how you hid. In 2015, Taxi, as you said, driving a taxi. Tell us how you made this film, It Was Just an Accident. Did the authorities in Iran know you were making it? It was made in Iran.
JAFAR PANAHI: [translated] Until I had a sentence that banned me from working, I had been making underground films and looking for solutions for how to circumvent security issues and how to save our work. But when I wanted to make It Was Just an Accident, they had lifted all my sentences. I had served everything. I was done with my — and on working and my prison sentence. In fact, I could go ask for a formal permission and work.
In Iran, when you want to ask for permission, you have to submit your script to the Ministry of Guidance. They read it. They tell you what to take out, what to add. “No, don’t have this character. Bring another character instead.” And they intervene so much that it’s no longer your film.
So I had to work in the underground style. And based on the experiences that I had with the last five films, I knew what to do to not get caught. We first started with locations that were less risky — for instance, the desert, where nobody would see us, or at home or in the bookstore, or the sequence where they tie the interrogator to the tree — places where we would not be seen. Gradually, we made our way into the city. But even there, we started with scenes in which the camera was inside the van, and no one could see the camera.
Then we brought the camera out into the urban areas. We worked for a few days, but we also knew that they’re going to see us and they’re going to catch us. We were shooting the ATM sequence. We finished, and we left the crew in one spot. Then myself and a few colleagues wanted to go and shoot another scene with the car in another location. But we were on our way when our team called and said the set has been raided. I first thought it’s the morality police, that usually approaches a filmmaking group and asks for permission. But then they told us, “No, it’s 15 secret agents in plain clothes.” We had to return. But, of course, before our return, we immediately hid our equipment. We were held on the street for four or five hours. They couldn’t find anything, of course. The next day, they questioned some people in interrogation sessions, and they said that they are not allowed to collaborate with Jafar Panahi anymore.
I put the project on pause for about a month, and then I went and shot the absolutely necessary shots. And then we started the post-production.
NERMEEN SHAIKH: Well, it’s an extraordinary — it’s an extraordinary film. And just so our listeners and viewers can get a taste of it, we’re going to play the trailer now, the trailer for It Was Just an Accident.
VAHID: [played by Vahid Mobasseri] [translated] I finally found him.
Kidnapping an intelligence agent is no small matter!
Eghbal the Peg Leg. Ring a bell?
EGHBAL: [played by Ebrahim Azizi] [translated] Stop it! I’ve never heard that name!
VAHID: [translated] Can you confirm it’s him?
SALAR: [played by George Hashemzadeh][translated] This is unlike you. We aren’t killers.
SHIVA: [played by Mariam Afshari] [translated] Are you sure it’s him?
VAHID: [translated] No.
SHIVA: [translated] He brought Eghbal.
HAMID: [played by Mohamad Ali Elyasmehr] [translated] I’ve been running my hand over his leg for five years, in my nightmares.
SECURITY GUARD: [played by Mohsen Maleki] [translated] What’s going on in there?
VAHID: [translated] There’s nothing to see.
GOLROKH: [played by Hadis Pakbaten] [translated] Listen, everyone, he has to talk.
HAMID: [translated] The further you go, the more you sink. It’s gonna be the end of you all.
EGHBAL: [translated] I have a family, too. I understand.
EGHBAL’S DAUGHTER: [played by Delmaz Najafi] [translated] Hello? My daddy?
VAHID: [translated] Do you know what you did to me?
SHIVA: [translated] What are you going to do?
NERMEEN SHAIKH: So, that’s the trailer for your most recent film, award-winning film, It Was Just an Accident. So, the film is especially relevant for this moment, and possibly the moment to come, because it deals with the issue of state violence and the question of whether, after the violence has ended, people should seek — should grant forgiveness or seek vengeance. If you could talk about some of these themes and their relevance today?
JAFAR PANAHI: [translated] I don’t know. Perhaps when I was making this film, I was more faithful that, under any circumstances, violence needs to be stopped. And perhaps I thought that the cycle of violence can change, can be destroyed. But now, considering what has happened in the past few days, considering this horrific massacre, are people able to say “enough” to this cycle of violence one day?
What has happened recently is nothing simple. It’s nothing small. What is happening today makes me really concerned about the future of my country. It makes me concerned that after the fall of this regime, what will happen? Are we going to return to this type of violence? Are we going to respond in violence or not?
I have always said this regime will fall. It is impossible for it to not fall, because it is a failed state in every sense. And people do not have — and it does not have any legitimacy for people. It is very clear to me, and I completely believe in it. What I care about is the future of my country. I want the country to stand. I want there to be peace. And I want our children and the children of our children to not be facing bullets. There should be a humanistic situation, giving people the right to live. But what they have done in the past 47 years has been planting the seeds of violence, and I really hope that this tree of violence will not grow.
NERMEEN SHAIKH: What is your message to protesters? Of course, we know now that at least 2,000, 2,500 have been killed. What is your message to protesters today? And also, you intend to return to Iran. Would you join the protests?
JAFAR PANAHI: [translated] Even one person getting killed is too much. You say 2,500 in 48 hours, but we have heard other numbers — even 12,000 people have been killed. Unfortunately, there are no ways of communicating within to assess the numbers we hear. But no matter what the actual numbers are, we know that it has been unprecedented.
About myself returning, they also asked me the same question at Cannes, and I said I will immediately return after the festival. And 24 hours after the end of the festival, I was in Tehran airport. Since I left Iran for the film campaign, of course, I heard that I have a new prison sentence, one-year prison sentence, and two years being banned from work. My trial happened in absentia, and my lawyer was supposed to give me the final results. But then the internet was shut down, and the phones are shut down, and I have not heard from my lawyer. But as soon as that campaign ends, as I have said before, I will return to Iran in any possible way, under any circumstances, because it is there that I know I have to exist. It is there where I know I can make films and do what I like to do. Yes, I will return. I will definitely return.
AMY GOODMAN: The acclaimed Iranian filmmaker Jafar Panahi. Special thanks to Sheida Dayani who interpreted the interview. This is Democracy Now! I’m Amy Goodman, with Nermeen Shaikh. Thanks so much for joining us.
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