Sirāt, 2025.
Directed by Oliver Laxe.
Starring Sergi López, Bruno Núñez, Stefania Gadda, Joshua Liam Henderson, Richard Bellamy, Tonin Janvier and Jade Oukid.
SYNOPSIS:
A man and his son arrive at a rave lost in the mountains of Morocco. They are looking for Marina, their daughter and sister, who disappeared months ago at another rave. Driven by fate, they decide to follow a group of ravers in search of one last party, in hopes Marina will be there.
Defying genre labels as a rare film that is truly unlike anything out there, co-writer/director Oliver Laxe’s (collaborating on the screenplay with Santiago Fillol) Sirāt is an intense and often hypnotic watch that goes beyond its simplistic premise of a father and his young son showing up at a rave in a Moroccan desert looking for their daughter and sister who ran away, but technically is an adult.
Subversive at every turn, this isn’t a film about why that girl left or family dynamics, but rather something much broader and more profound, as father and son (played by Sergi López and Bruno Núñez, respectively) team up with a group of ravers on their way to another desert party where the girl might be showing up. The journey there is also treacherous, requiring navigation of cliffside roads and a unification of resources.
The opening text defines Sirāt as a bridge between heaven and hell that is thinner than a hair, sharper than a sword, and hotter than fire; typically, when films start with a historical quote, it is forgotten about 10 minutes into the movie. Not this one; it is a perfect thematic distillation of what the second half transitions into. There is also an undefined militaristic conflict underway, which could play into the story in numerous ways or serve as a political backdrop that inspires thoughts and dialogues in different directions.
More to the point, there is much techno dancing throughout, especially early on. And while such a choice provides some thumping music that is strangely transfixing in desert environments, this is also a film about how music itself brings people together as a community willing to help one another in times of crisis. Particularly, anyone who has ever been to a concert or a music film festival will understand the kind of spontaneous kinship this story evokes. Sergi Lopez also subtly makes this connection, but only after his son encourages him to accept the strangers’ offer of assistance.
What’s happening in this desert is much more than misfits hanging out and dancing; it’s about dealing with struggles through art. This father also might even begin to put together why his daughter ran away, even if that is never explicitly a talking point of the story. With that said, it’s also intentional how often Oliver Laxe lingers on that dancing, which is an outlet for expression at the state of what’s happening here, but also more as the film twists itself up in new directions, never allowing the viewer to get a handle on what it ultimately is or where it’s going.
Unpredictable, leading to unbearably tense events, Sirāt pulls no gut punches. Just when one thinks they have a handle on where the film might be headed or how it will end (based on years and years of watching movies), it zigs and plays with its themes in completely unexpected, devastating, and bleakly beautiful ways, deepening the already riveting performances. It has something tragically moving to say about community and unity, with music as its primary means. For as much impressionistic artistic dancing as there is here, this is also an explosively suspenseful experience, although how should remain unsullied for the viewer until they watch it and have their heart put through the paces.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★ ★
Robert Kojder
