What inspired your visual approach to A Simple Accident?

My visual approach was rooted in realism and a sense of closeness to the characters. The film explores fragile and unpredictable human moments, so I wanted the camera to feel honest, present, and unintrusive — as if the audience is witnessing life as it unfolds. I avoided stylization and instead relied on natural light, simple camera movements, and straightforward compositions. Every day life itself was a key reference, and Jafar Panahi’s earlier films also influenced the visual tone. I tried to continue that honest, observational style while adapting it to the rhythm and mood of this particular story.

Given the unique circumstances of this production, what was your choice of camera?

Except for the opening shot, nearly the entire film was shot on the RED KOMODO — a camera that both Jafar Panahi and I deeply trust and enjoy working with. Given the constraints of the production, from limited resources to the need for flexibility and discretion — choosing the KOMODO made perfect sense.

A large portion of the film takes place inside a van. The compact size of the KOMODO allowed us to operate easily in that confined space, and place the camera where larger systems would’ve been impractical. The ability to use lightweight, simple accessories was also a huge advantage, especially as we aimed to keep our crew as small as possible.

Technically, the camera provided a highly satisfying image quality while being extremely portable and adaptable to difficult environments. One of the greatest values of using the KOMODO was how it enabled us to work fast and efficiently with a minimal team. We could move quickly, remain flexible, and respond to unpredictable situations without the need for heavy support or a large crew. In many public locations, the small and discreet form of the camera allowed us to shoot without drawing attention, which made everything much easier to manage.

Since the film was shot without official permits, how did that shape your work?

Shooting without permits was definitely a serious challenge, but we were fortunate that ordinary people in many public locations were cooperative. We had to work light, fast, and discreet. The public support, whether through their presence or their tolerance, had a real impact on how we managed the set. This limitation shaped everything though, including our choice of gear, how we rehearsed, and how we approached each location. Choosing the RED KOMODO was essential — not just for image quality, but for its size and mobility, which allowed us to move quietly and quickly through real environments.

When you work with a major filmmaker like Jafar Panahi in Iran, under such conditions, you need to balance several things at once. You have to stay true to the story and script and adapt to a director who refuses to compromise. You have to be working fast; and delivering both technical and artistic quality. You also have to remember the film will be seen by serious audiences around the world, at major festivals and in highly critical environments.

In projects like this, choosing the right camera is not just a technical decision, but it’s the foundation for a guerrilla-style, responsive, and high-quality approach to storytelling.

What were some of the biggest challenges in lighting the film, especially considering the locations and lack of formal permissions?

Lighting was one of the most challenging aspects of this project. We had no access to a lighting crew or large equipment, so we had to work entirely with natural light and simple practical sources such as streetlights, windows, interior lights, and even a phone flashlight. We relied on lightweight, battery-powered gear and made every decision by balancing image quality with discretion and speed. Each location demanded a different strategy. At night, the challenges became more specific. It wasn’t just about not having lights — exposure became a key concern. We often pushed the camera’s ISO capabilities and used very minimal lighting support to balance with the existing environment. KOMODO handled this very well especially in scenes where dynamic range and subtle contrasts mattered.

Personally, I love natural light in cinema and in everyday life. I try to use it as much as possible, whenever the story and the tone allow it. In realistic films, we often spend hours lighting scenes to recreate what’s already in front of us. I often believe the most honest thing is simply what we see. Reaching that simplicity requires choosing the right time of day or night — and trusting that what’s already there might be enough.

Was there a particular scene or shot that pushed you the most creatively, or that you’re especially proud of?

There are several scenes I feel connected to, but one in particular stands out: a nighttime scene lit only by the car’s front headlights and its rear red lights. The actors ended up standing behind the car. So, I had two choices: light their faces with neutral ambient light and get a normal exposure or embrace the red glow from the taillights and let that define the scene. The first option was safer but felt too cautious. The second one was riskier — both emotionally and technically — but felt right for the film. I doubted whether the camera could handle it, but I took the risk. The result was striking: a clean, bold, technically solid, and emotionally resonant image.

What advice would you give other DPs working under unconventional or restrictive circumstances who still want to push visual boundaries?

Cinematography today is no longer just a technical skill — it’s the art of visualizing text through light, framing, and movement. Technique matters, but it comes second. What matters most is the ability to translate narrative into imagery. My advice is to stay simple and focused. In restricted situations, you don’t have time or ideal conditions, so you need to know what matters in a shot and how to get it with the least friction. You don’t need a lot of equipment to create something meaningful. If your story is strong and your choices are honest, the image will carry that. Mistakes will happen, but with an open and flexible mindset, they can lead to something unexpected and beautiful.

Choosing the right tools is also key. The right camera is not just about specs — it’s about how much freedom, speed, and independence it gives you. In fast-paced productions, that’s everything. Many times, we watch videos and never know who shot them or with what — even phones. Technically, they may have flaws, but we don’t notice at first. What pulls us in is the atmosphere, the energy, the emotional weight. That always comes first. And finally, this advice isn’t just for low-budget or restricted filmmaking — it can apply to projects at any scale, and help any cinematographer stay grounded in what truly matters.