Sirât

Oliver Laxe presents his latest work, written in collaboration with Santiago Fillol, a film that delivers a powerful emotional impact in its second half and invites profound philosophical reflection. An intriguing director who is definitely not for the faint of heart.

Starring the talented Sergi López and a cast of non-professional actors, the story follows a man (Sergi López) and his son (Bruno Núñez) who arrive at a remote rave in Morocco. They are searching for Mar, their daughter and sister, who disappeared months ago at one of those endless parties. Surrounded by electronic music and a kind of freedom unknown to them, they distribute her photo repeatedly. Along the way, they meet a group of ravers and decide to follow them to one last party in the desert, hoping to find the missing young woman.

Sirât is a peculiar film, good but peculiar, that shocks with a second half that mentally shatters you with relentless cruelty, fragmenting your mind into tiny, breathless moments. Its director manipulates your emotions and your ability to concentrate in front of the screen with impressive cunning, ensuring that you never lose the thread built in the first half.

It's an unsettling film in its narrative, and while it doesn't particularly resolve its plot points, it goes far beyond that. It's a work that invites constant reflection and poses a challenge about how much we are willing to endure. It also stands out for its manipulation of its protagonists, who are gradually destroyed in their own minds, thanks to an impeccable script that, while not structurally satisfying, proves to be a truly interesting exercise in visual philosophy.

A peculiar undertaking, perhaps not for all audiences, and certainly a film you'll either love or hate with no middle ground. Its strength lies in offering a fascinating sensory experience, where sound is its greatest asset, but its weakness is a somewhat unfinished script that may leave you completely bewildered. Nevertheless, it's an interesting film that takes big risks, with a director of extraordinary intelligence capable of making you feel and then shattering you without warning.

In conclusion...

It's Spain's Oscar submission, and that's quite an achievement. It's an interesting film, not perfect, not for everyone, but it's definitely a work that will leave you stunned, breathless, and unable to laugh. It's a cruel film in every sense, showing no mercy to the viewer in its second half, but it offers many interesting elements to win you over, beyond its invitation to visual philosophy.

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.

"Sirât" is my this years favourite, for sure. It's not good just because of the seemingly usual road trip story but also because of the music, the power, the atmosphere, the characters - it's literally an audiovisual masterpiece!!

I haven't seen much movies with this kind of hold on me. It guides you to all the characters and when you least expect it, it let's go of your hand. The whole cinema in Cannes was on edge while watching this movie. And for a good reason.

It brings up a wide range of emotions and themes which give room for so many different shades of feelings for every person that experiences this movie.

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.

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.