Sirât

This is one of those movies where multiple characters just keep making poor decisions. You want them to come to their senses, but their journey is the point.

Here's a group of broken people dealing with trauma in a way most of us would find alarming (to say the least).

But it's not just that. There's a hypnotic, pulsating energy throughout due to the amazing score and tight pacing. The desert of Morocco, which is the setting for the entire film, is unassuming until it's not.

You're left wondering about these people, what came before and what comes after. There are no easy explanations here, but the sense of danger certainly makes you feel alive.

Married coupled with hectic lives and busy agendas might recognize this scenario. My wife and I unexpectedly had the occasion to go to the cinema without our children, but it was very last-minute on a Saturday night. The only reasonably comfortable seats that were still available were for either an undemanding but nasty horror flick ("Clown in a Cornfield") or for the undoubtedly superior but obviously anti-entertaining and mentally devastating "Sirât". The partner doesn't want to see any spooky clowns on the big screen, so we went for Cannes' Jury Prize winning drama "Sirât".

Evidently, "Sirât" is a great film. It even is a marvelous, mesmerizing, and truly unforgettable film, but - oh dear God - how miserable and depressed can just one film make you feel?!? Of course you know from beforehand it won't be a feelgood comedy, but still I wasn't sufficiently prepared for the type of uncomfortably slow-paced, painfully realistic, and emotionally exhausting movie we watched. And yet, it's also one of the most beautiful (in terms of locations & cinematography) and rhythmically pounding (the techno soundtrack) movies we watched in a long time.

"Sirât" begins with a long - very long - sequence at an illegal rave in Morocco, on the border of the Sahara Desert. The preparation for the event, and the rave itself, are depicted without any dialogue but the music and the extended footage of approximately 100-150 people dancing puts you right in the middle. Strolling through the masses, a middle-aged father and his son are looking for their daughter/sister who's been missing for five months. When the rave is rudely ended by army forces, the father (Louis) and son (Esteban) join the organizers of the rave on their trip to the opposite side of the desert, to Mauretania, where another illegal party will be held. Louis' vehicle is clearly not fit for the trip. Louis and Esteban themselves are clearly not fit for the trip. The pack of ravers clearly also underestimated the unpredictability and hazards of the trip... And did I mention that ominous news bulletins on the radio in the background suggest that World War III broke out?

Like an impeccable master, writer/director Oliver Laxe messes and toys around with the viewers' patience, emotions, and deepest fears. It's the kind of film where nothing relevant happens for long periods of time, just vehicles driving or characters staring into the unknown, but your brain nevertheless remains alert and your senses work overtime. It's also the type of film where you squirm in your seat because you sense something tragic is about to happen, but then ... doesn't. Yet, when you least suspect it, something far worse than you could have imagined happens! Laxe pulls off this trick three, four times until you're left behind utterly shocked & perplexed when the end credits start rolling. "Sirât" is a unique film. Beautiful, haunting, thought-provoking, saddening, ... unforgettable. Perhaps not the type of motion picture you wish to see after a long and stressful week, or in case you're already in agony with regards to everything that is happening in this miserable world, but a masterwork nonetheless.

This "road movie" speaks of more than just a simple trip: it's the chronicle of an inner journey disguised as a dusty route, a path where decisions weigh more than the miles and where the unexpected becomes a permanent co-pilot. It's an exciting and dangerous crossing in which reaching that party is barely an excuse -almost an afterthought- while the desert dust becomes the only loyal companion, supplies and fuel turn into treasures of great value, and LSD opens the door to a fleeting refuge where inner scars are neither seen nor felt.

The result is a blend of genres that shifts between family drama, western, adventure, and thriller, as if the film itself needed to get lost in order to find its way. Because, in the end, this sensory journey to nowhere speaks precisely of that: moving forward, even without knowing where to, hoping that-for once-the destination matters less than the road.

This is a really great music video with awful dialogues. Like, honesty, if this was mute I'd give it a 9/10. But if you're a native Spanish speaker it just feels so fake. Like, why are the French people speaking Spanish among themselves? The text is redundant, it's just repeating what you see on the screen, it lacks depth, the Spanish deliveries on native Spanish actors are awful. They just sound super fake.

I mean, I really made an effort to like the movie, the music was a banger, cinematography and costume design were spot on, the side characters were awesome too. But I would just get so thrown off by the dialogues that I'd loose the immersion. And it sucks.

Sirat is a profound meditation on the fragility of the human condition and the illusions of safety embedded in the Western worldview. Oliver Laxe challenges our assumptions of stability, revealing how easily the structures we rely on-both physical and emotional-can be shaken by the randomness of life. Through its stripped-down narrative and haunting visual poetry, the film reminds us of our vulnerability and the urgent need for humility when confronting the unexpected. Sirat is not just a cinematic experience; it's a quiet, powerful wake-up call.

The film also fosters a deep sense of empathy toward those who live in regions marked by material hardship and constant insecurity. By immersing us in a reality so far removed from Western comfort, Sirat dismantles the distance between "us" and "them." It allows us to feel, however briefly, the weight of a life lived without guarantees. In doing so, it encourages a more compassionate and humble perspective toward those whose daily lives are shaped by instability, reminding us that resilience is often born from circumstances we can barely imagine.