Sirāt Review

An Esoteric and Increasingly Tense Journey Through a Literal and Spiritual Desert

By: Marc Kozak

Sirāt

An Esoteric and Increasingly Tense Journey Through a Literal and Spiritual Desert

By: Marc Kozak

Oliver Laxe's “Sirât" -- his fourth feature and the winner of the Jury Prize at Cannes -- is a movie that defies easy classification, primarily because it's more interested in images and feelings than any kind of actual story. It's tempting to compare it to "Mad Max" or "Wages of Fear" because it features a small group of people making their way through a dangerous desert wasteland in a large vehicle, but the basis for comparison really stops there.

Laxe has created a fascinatingly esoteric and highly personal piece of work that comes as close as one can get to literalizing a spiritual journey. For further clues, look no further than the movie's title. The Arabic word "sirāt" means "path" or "way"; in Islamic scripture, it refers to the narrow bridge that connects Paradise to Hell. For the characters in the movie, this pathway consists of the dusty and craggy roads that wind through Morocco’s Atlas Mountains, a hauntingly beautiful but perilously desolate land that holds death and revelation in equal measure.

That all being said, “Sirât" also works as a thriller that slowly escalates to an almost unbearable level of tension. It's not quite a crowd-pleasing action spectacle, but it does keep you firmly gripped to your seat, marveling at the memorable images and vibrating along with the movie's pulsing techno beat. This unique blend of existential meditation and explosive blasts of adrenaline results in one of the most distinctive movies to come out this year, loudly announcing Oliver Laxe on the world stage as one of the most exciting voices in world cinema.

" Sirât's unique blend of existential meditation and explosive blasts of adrenaline results in one of the most distinctive movies to come out this year. "

Things start with the erection of a wall of speakers that kick off a dust-rippling rave in the middle of the Moroccan desert. A caravan of dusty vehicles carries hundreds of young ravers, who sway and stomp to the music that echoes loudly throughout the barren canyon. Just as we start to wonder if this is the entirety of the movie, we notice an older man (Sergi López) and his shaggy-haired adolescent son Esteban (Bruno Núñez Arjona) moving through the crowd, clearly out of place amongst the ravers. They begin handing out flyers as the man (Luis) explains to blissfully confused dancers that they are looking for his daughter, who they haven’t seen or heard from in five months. They know she is a member of the rave scene and have been traveling around Spain and Morocco for months, hoping to bring her home.

After military authorities break up the party, the group heads off to the next rave being held somewhere out across the desert. Luis and his son manage to convince a small group of five friends to let them follow them to the secret party site, undaunted as the group warns them that the journey will be long and difficult. Laxe casts a ragtag group of non-professional actors to play these techno lifers, and as such they are completely believable in their roles. They are weather-beaten, tattooed, dirty, and some are even missing limbs -- exactly the kind of crew you would expect to travel around the desert looking for raves.

And so the journey begins. The group quickly bonds over the harsh conditions and treacherous roads, needing everyone's available skills to make it through the various challenges that pop up. Laxe and cinematographer Mauro Herce effectively capture the biblically apocalyptic scenery that stretches out for endless miles before them, never seeming to relent for days on end. “Is this what the end of the world feels like?” the group asks, uncertain if anyone else exists besides them. It's hard to say if this story is set in the present, an alternate present, or a possible future -- there is nothing more than the desert, the journey, and the next destination.

The journey becomes increasingly dangerous, and not everyone makes it out alive. What everything means is left to interpretation. There are certainly questions of faith being tested, both of a spiritual nature and a practical one. Will they find Luis' daughter? Will they even make it to the next rave, which may or may not exist? Is the land fighting back against them in retaliation for humanity's wars and environmental destruction? Does the fact that the entire group is mostly white mean anything, particularly with regards to the lands into which they are "invading"? These questions float on the edges of events, sparking the mind and encouraging the viewer to confront their own spiritual journeys, in whatever forms those may take.

What makes “Sirât" a singular accomplishment is Laxe's ability to deal with these heady and often unanswerable questions by way of an absolutely gripping road trip, peppered with moments of truly nail-biting intensity. It's an effortless mix of experimental storytelling and good ol' explosive action, wholly engaging the viewer both in the moment and for hours after the credits have rolled.

Whatever kind of hell this desert represents, Laxe urges us to face it as a community. Even when we are beaten down by a road full of horrors, kindness and empathy are crucial to our survival. When one of the ravers is asked whether or not they miss their family, they respond: "I prefer this family." The most powerful moments in “Sirât" are the ones where people fight to maintain connections that they never expected to form. You never know who you'll meet on the road -- best to treat them with kindness before the road disappears.