In the eyes of many, attending a rave is one of the ultimate forms of escapism. After all, few settings seem better suited to forgetting oneself than a haze of hallucinogens and EDM. Yet, as most ravers will tell you, the experience is less about losing their consciousness than discovering it.
At the opening of “Sirāt” (2025), the Cannes Jury Prize-winning and twice-Oscar-nominated film from director Óliver Laxe, it feels as though we, the audience, are intruding on a few such moments of spiritual catharsis. Floating through the crowd, we see an amalgam of dancers: Some sway to the music with their eyes shut, some smoke cigarettes and laugh to themselves and almost all wear hairstyles formerly reserved solely for ’70s punk rock bands. But as ominous synths invade the techno score — composed by David Letellier, who records professionally as Kangding Ray — we begin to get the sense that something isn’t right.
Soon enough, these fears are confirmed by the introduction of Luis (Spanish star Sergi López, without his usual sideburns) and his son Esteban (Bruno Núñez Arjona). Looking completely out of place — Luis carrying a backpack and Esteban appearing inappropriately young for the festivities, even by European standards — they wade through crowds, passing out fliers printed with the face of Luis’ lost daughter, Mar.
Significantly, one of their encounters is with a gang of five misfits (Stefania Gadda, Joshua Liam Henderson, Tonin Janvier, Jade Oukid and Richard Bellamy, all nonprofessional actors). They tell the duo that they haven’t seen Mar, but she might be found at another rave happening soon after. Moments later, a militia of soldiers appears, instructing all European Union citizens to leave. It becomes clear that we’re at the outset of World War III, and Morocco — where the film is set, in its sandy and desolate southeastern region — is under a state of emergency.
Despite massive geopolitical overtones concerning both the imagined world war and the decidedly real conflicts taking place in the same region, the film does little to engage with external events. Laxe is far more interested in exploring the personal rather than the political, inviting his viewers to experience the same kind of catharsis that many find on the dance floor.
When Luis and Esteban see the group of five flee the military and drive off into a cloud of dust, they decide to follow in hopes of finding Mar, setting the stage for a drug- and anxiety-filled desert journey. At first, they’re laughed off: Their car can’t handle the terrain (a detail that will prove significant), and neither can they (this will too). Eventually, however, through a mix of pleading and writer’s magic, the group relents and cautiously allows them to follow.
Though tension-packed road films like Henri-Georges Clouzot’s “The Wages of Fear” (1953) and William Friedkin’s remake “Sorcerer” (1977) are clear inspirations in both story and style, Laxe departs from those works by stripping his characters of nearly all exposition. They are merely vessels about whom we know almost nothing, and even in their most shocking moments — of which there are many — it can be difficult to sympathize with them beyond the brutality of their circumstances.
Laxe has continually cited Andrei Tarkovsky as an inspiration, but he may be too dedicated a storyteller — and not yet philosophically refined enough — to fully earn the comparison. Sure, he’s committed to crafting images meant to affect the viewer, but despite the beauty of cinematographer Mauro Herce’s 16mm work, aided in part by the breathtaking scenery itself, the images land with surprising emotional flatness. Laxe and co-writer Santiago Fillol, who also collaborated on “Mimosas” (2016) and “Fire Will Come” (2019), attempt to organically integrate moments of shock — what they might call shock therapy — but even these forceful crescendos ultimately add little substance.
Narrative struggles aside, the film’s sound work is a true marvel. It’s no surprise that the sound team — the first all-women group to be nominated in the category — is up for an Oscar this year, and it wouldn’t be surprising if they won. With car tires and sandstorms working in tandem with Letellier’s pulsating score, the film offers a far more compelling and immersive experience for the ears than for the eyes.
The film’s ending is just as ambiguous as its beginning. By this point, some of the viewers may have achieved the catharsis that Laxe sets out to provoke, but it’s difficult to discern what, exactly, produces such an experience. Films that most meaningfully compel us to turn inward are often those that do not try to make the audience feel anything. Tarkovsky — along with more recent filmmakers like Apichatpong Weerasethakul and Hirokazu Kore-eda — imbue their images with philosophical and poetic weight, creating resonance not through argument but by speaking to something deeper within the viewer. “Sirāt,” for all its ambition, errs gravely by mistaking intensity for insight, leaving its search for transcendence stranded somewhere in the desert.
SUMMARY: A rave-fueled desert journey set against the backdrop of global conflict, “Sirāt” offers immersive sound and striking imagery but fails to provide its promised emotional payoff.
2.5 stars.
