Per Islamic doctrine, “sirāt” refers to the bridge over Hell that all spirits must traverse in order to arrive at eternal paradise. A text card explaining this concept (“thinner than a strand of hair and sharper than a sword”) opens Spanish filmmaker Óliver Laxe’s fourth feature, which earned the Jury Prize following its Cannes premiere. Although Sirāt explicitly outlines the perilous path that its central group of rave attendees inevitably embarks on, the events that follow are breakneck in their unpredictability at every winding turn. Elevating the emotional tenor of the film is Kangding Ray’s high-intensity score, which raises the heart rate in sync with the sucker-punches that Laxe and recurrent co-writer Santiago Fillol relentlessly throw.
The barren Moroccan desert serves as the setting for Sirāt, the harsh elements in stark contrast with the strobing lightshow emanating from a guerilla techno function. As ravers dance (or hobble, depending on their level of intoxication) to the music, two misfits appear. Straightlaced, middle-aged Luis (Sergi López) and his shaggy-haired adolescent son Esteban (Bruno Núñez Arjona) amble amid a sea of festivalgoers, each clutching a stack of flyers. Plastered upon the pages is a photo of Mar, Luis’ adult daughter, who they haven’t seen or heard from in five months. Their only clue lies in her obsession with the rave scene, meaning that the pair and their adorable pup Pipa have been traveling all over their native Spain to no avail, their pursuit now bringing them to Morocco.
Most of the people they encounter are too blissed out to engage with their plight, save for a ragtag group of five techno lifers—played by non-professional actors, a choice Laxe has made on several of his films—sitting on the sidelines. Their faces are leathery and tan. Several are missing limbs. They’re tatted, pierced, dyed, and grungy. Appearances aside, they’re compelled to help. While they haven’t seen Mar, they do mention that they’ll be venturing to another rave deep in the Sahara, this one near Mauritania. It’s supposed to be a rager—maybe Mar will be there?
Before Luis and Esteban can ascertain any finer details, a military caravan descends upon the illicit gathering. They’re not simply here to shut down the party—they’ve arrived with the directive to evacuate E.U. citizens. Apparently, WWIII is on the brink of breaking out, which threatens to instantly destabilize the region. As soldiers usher everyone out of the desert, Luis and Esteban witness their new acquaintances break away from the pack in oversized RVs. Now even more desperate to track down Mar, Luis and Esteban impulsively follow them into the dusty horizon in their much dinkier truck.
So the group begins their journey, forming a gradual kinship along the way. Try as they might, however, they can’t escape the consequences of the conflict that unfolds just out of view. “Is this what the end of the world feels like?” asks Bigui (Richard Bellamy), a mohawked yet oddly innocent older punk. It certainly seems so; the world that Sirāt takes place in feels only like a slightly accelerated version of our own, one where humanity’s most troubling trajectories are sustained. Genocide, ethnic cleansing, state-sanctioned disenfranchisement, environmental poisoning and countless other injustices constantly flood our feeds, everyone clamoring to protest (or posture) in a flimsy attempt at activism. As we feel increasingly helpless to productively combat these societal ills, the more alluring burying one’s head in the sand might sound. With the world coming to an end, maybe one last party, one last dose of serotonin, isn’t such a bad send-off before succumbing to oblivion. Hubris has historically never brought one closer to salvation, but it’s still worth a shot.
The PLUR mentality might not offer any physical protection, but it does sustain the group’s morale. With each mounting obstacle—exorbitant fuel prices, crumbling mountain roads, suffocating sand storms—they instinctually rely on and look out for each other. The ravers rush to Pipa’s aid when she accidentally ingests LCD-laced feces; Luis agrees to merge their measly rations; stone-faced matriarch Stef (Stefania Gadda) gently braids Esteban’s hair during a pit stop. Some might erroneously label Sirāt as an exercise in brutal nihilism, unrelenting in its appetite for misery. The opposite is true of the dynamic between these two parties, which is rooted in a mutual respect. Be warned, though: punks-go-poptimistic this is not. By the time the plot reaches its booming climax, everyone teeters on the edge of psychosis (ample psychedelic trips probably don’t help), raw emotion rushing through all of them.
The music that Ray composes for the film is versatile and encompasses a wide range of the techno genre. During Sirāt‘s opening rave scenes, the DJs play generic Eurotrash, the thump, thump, thump mind-numbing in its one-note repetition. In fairness, it serves to evoke something deeply spiritual, a meditative mantra that unites ravers in extended prayer—or perhaps a séance that bridges the divide between this mortal coil and a purgatorial, if surreally poetic, realm. As the story moves away from the music festivals, Ray’s score develops intricate textures, which layer upon each other to create a disquieting pulse; by the time one realizes that the erratic beat has caused a latent anxiety to fester, it’s too late to look away in anticipation of the hell that awaits those who stray from sirāt’s narrow path.
The idea of being confronted with temptation and trepidation in the desert is reminiscent of a classic Biblical encounter between Jesus and Satan. Laxe offers a much-too-literal takeaway during the film’s final moments, a sour comedown after some truly breathtaking shots of adrenaline. But as the cliché advises, it’s the journey Sirāt takes us on that truly merits appreciation. Unlike the aforementioned adage, however, the film refuses to leave us with the satisfaction of reaching a tangible destination. The cycle of samsara begins anew, the monotonous thump, thump, thump now a salve after a series of sonic and spiritual stressors.
Director: Óliver Laxe
Writer: Óliver Laxe, Santiago Fillol
Starring: Sergi López, Bruno Núñez Arjona, Richard Bellamy, Stefania Gadda, Joshua Liam Henderson, Tonin Janvier, Jade Oukid
Release Date: November 14, 2025
