Panahi’s Power Play: A Call for Freedom in the Dark
This year’s edition made history with the triumphant return of Jafar Panahi, who took home the Palme d’Or for It Was Just an Accident. On the final day of the festival, just when Cannes was supposed to bask in its usual glow of self-congratulation and glamour, the unexpected happened: a city-wide blackout plunged the Croisette into darkness. It was as if the universe had staged its own minimalist tribute to slow cinema — with real-time suspense and zero lighting.
Enter Jafar Panahi, who took to the Lumière stage later that evening to deliver what was meant to be a triumphant speech — and it was, albeit one that unfolded under the faint buzz of emergency lights. Unfazed by the flickering atmosphere, Panahi delivered a powerful call to “put our problems aside” (no small ask in a room full of film people) and to fight for freedom in Iran. It was stirring, urgent — and nearly candlelit.
For those unfamiliar with his backstory, Panahi isn’t just a filmmaker — he’s a defiant chronicler of injustice who has made films under house arrest, smuggled them out of Iran on USB sticks hidden in cakes, and spent years behind bars for the crime of having a camera and a conscience. And now, he's added a Cannes Palme d'Or to his collection, making him the only director since Michelangelo Antonioni to complete the festival trifecta: a Golden Bear from Berlin, a Golden Lion from Venice, and now, finally, a golden branch from Cannes. At this point, it might be time to open a very exclusive auteur-themed zoo.
The audience rose to their feet, even though just hours before, they’d been left wondering whether the festival would have to pivot to shadow puppetry. But unlike many world governments, Cannes had a backup plan. Power was restored just in time, and the message couldn’t have been clearer: cinema continues, even when the lights go out — especially when the lights go out.
Sentiment Strikes Back: Joachim Trier’s Hug Revolution
The other big winner of the night was Joachim Trier, whose Sentimental Value earned a roaring 19-minute ovation — coincidentally, the average lifespan of some European cabinets. Cannes audiences wept, clapped, and likely dislocated a few wrists in the process.
The film, a soft-focus ode to emotional repair, follows an aging director who abandoned his family years ago but now seeks redemption through the only two things that matter in Cannes cinema: feelings and casting Renate Reinsve. Naturally, her character — one of his estranged daughters — is invited to star in his next film, because nothing says “I’m sorry for your childhood” like a lead role and decent screen time.
At times, Sentimental Value feels like it was reverse-engineered from the Palme d’Or acceptance speech Trier really wanted to give. Instead, he had to settle for the Grand Prix — Cannes’ polite way of saying, “You almost nailed the formula.” Still, you can practically hear the screen whispering: “Dear Jury, this is an Important Film. Please notice how sad yet healing everything is.”
Still, Trier’s actresses — especially Reinsve — shone with all the restraint and luminescence of Philharmonic-grade Swarovski crystals, and the director himself unveiled what might be the boldest cultural provocation of the year: “Tenderness is the new punk.” It’s official. Rock is dead. Hugs are in. And Cannes can’t resist a well-scored, soft-lit emotional reckoning.
Cinema Gets Weird (and Weirder): Sharks, Legs, and Brazil
Brazil, by the way, wasn’t far behind. Wagner Moura nabbed Best Actor for The Secret Agent, a film that — no joke — includes a shark with a human leg in its stomach. This isn’t a metaphor. Just pure cinema, now powered by new narrative fuel — if not fish, then what? Kleber Mendonça Filho, the celebrated director of Aquarius and Bacurau, once again dove deep into the political currents of Brazil’s past. Depending on who you ask, The Secret Agent was either a gripping, socially charged thriller or a lavishly lit Latin American soap opera that ran two hours too long. Either way, it had drama, message, and marine biology — Cannes catnip.
There were also the films that didn’t win a thing but still won hearts — like Richard Linklater’s Nouvelle Vague, an elegant cinephile exercise in reverse-engineering Breathless. It lovingly reconstructs the myth of Godard frame by frame, puff of Gauloises by puff of Gauloises. Critics gave it a respectable 2.7 on the Screendaily grid — not bad for a film with zero sharks and maximum reverence. Still, the jury turned a blind eye. Perhaps next time Linklater should throw in a rogue limb or two.
Distribution, Confusion, and the Binoche Factor
Critics are a bit confused: for the sixth year in a row, Neon picked up the most talked-about films at Cannes. They’ve done it before with Titane and Triangle of Sadness, and this year, Jafar Panahi’s It Was Just an Accident was added to the competition just hours before it won the Palme d’Or. Was it luck? Or maybe Neon has some secret connection with the jury?
This year’s jury was headed by Juliette Binoche. It’s not clear if she completely agreed with the jury’s choices — but she looked great doing it, with charm, grace, and a twinkle in her eye. And honestly, that’s the true spirit of Cannes. From the start, when Binoche gave an emotional speech about a Palestinian journalist killed by Israeli missiles (who was also the subject of one of the competing films), it was clear this jury wasn’t just focused on art. Politics were everywhere.
Then there was Robert De Niro, who got an Honorary Palme d’Or and used the moment to tear into Donald Trump like a Sunday roast. The message of the night couldn’t have been clearer: cinema is back — and it has something to say.
Enter the Algorithm: AI Takes the Red Carpet (and Maybe a Selfie)
AI took center stage at the 2025 Cannes Film Festival, popping up in panels, pitches, and even casual chats. At the new Village Innovation hub, startups promised faster shoots and cheaper budgets thanks to AI — the perfect crew member who never needs a break. But not everyone was thrilled: some filmmakers nervously joked about embracing their new robot overlords.
But hey, tools like Largo.ai are impressively predicting audience reactions with “digital twins,” and Ukraine’s Respeecher had everyone buzzing by fine-tuning celebrity voices — think of it as vocal Botox, keeping Hollywood’s stars sounding fresh for the Oscars.
Smarter Tech, Quirkier Scripts? Bring It On!
Cannes organizers wisely took the Switzerland route — “We explain, we don’t take sides,” they said. Which is handy when AI is flooding everything from screenwriting to casting and editing, making neutrality feel like throwing a dinner party during a tornado. Spoiler: it’s messy, but somehow entertaining.
Siri, Fade In: The AI Takeover… or Just a New Co-Star?
As the industry rushes to set up guardrails before the bots rewrite Casablanca as an NFT thriller, the chatter about AI regulation is getting louder. The EU wants AI to be transparent and copyright-friendly — good luck keeping track of that digital spaghetti. Hollywood worries that hard-earned strike protections might disappear faster than a coffee cup on set.
Big players like Netflix’s Ted Sarandos and James Cameron are singing AI’s praises — saving money, adding CGI sparkle, and speeding up production. Meanwhile, skeptical screenwriter Katharina Gellein Viken reminds us robots still can’t quite nail a script without accidentally inventing three plot holes and one very confused sentient toaster. But hey, even the best human writers have their off days.
With money flowing into AI from unexpected places and red tape getting the scissors treatment, filmmakers like David Defendi are sounding the alarm: if we don’t keep pace, soon we might be watching movies written, directed, and even starred in by Siri herself. The real question? Not if AI belongs in cinema — it’s whether it gets a shiny producer credit or just quietly takes over the studio.
Final Scene: Cinema’s Still Got a Soul
The takeaway? Cannes 2025 proved that neither the world — nor cinema — is quite ready to be controlled. And thank God for that. For now, the heart (and liver) of cinema still beats in human hands — silk suits, sweaty palms, emotional speeches, accidental accidents and all.
