Sirât

A father and son wander through the literal and symbolic desert surrounding a rave party in Morocco. They are searching for a missing girl, handing out flyers with her photo. The search, along with the rave itself, is abruptly interrupted by the Moroccan army, which shuts down the gathering and forces everyone to leave. The two protagonists then make a sudden decision: they join a group of ravers heading across the desert toward another party near the Mauritanian border.

Sirat is an innovative, visually striking, allegorical, and emotionally resonant film. The characters narrate the reality that surrounds them while dancing, taking drugs, and trying to survive, not only the vast, hostile desert but also the world they’ve been thrown into.

News of a war crackles through the radio, but the dancing goes on, the fleeing continues, and the search never stops. As the journey progresses, the protagonists lose their grip on what’s around them. The farther they move from the music, the more they’re forced to hear what the music was drowning out.

The desert, captured by cinematographer Mauro Herce, is raw and unforgiving. The sound design plays a role nearly as vital as Òliver Laxe’s direction: immersive, textured, and haunting.

The first twist comes without warning. It’s jarring, surreal, and bewildering. But within minutes, it becomes clear: it was only the beginning, a doorway into the film’s second, even more astonishing half, which builds toward a mystical and spectacular finale.

Every frame is composed with care and intention, capturing the essence of the journey while honouring the desert’s stark and hypnotic beauty.

Though its pace is slow and at times self-indulgent, Sirat remains a deeply immersive, almost spiritual experience. To watch it is to surrender, to open your eyes, ears, and mind, and let yourself be carried by the desert wind.

By Tommaso Vanni