Sirât : Fantastic Fest Review

I don’t think there is anything a parent wouldn’t do for their children. Most parents would walk to the ends of the earth — and in Oliver Laxe’s new film Sirât, a father does just that. The result is something that has to be witnessed, because even as I write this, I’m still trying to wrap my head around what I saw.

Luis (Sergi López) and his son Esteban (Bruno Núñez Arjona) are searching for Luis’s daughter, Esteban’s sister. Their search takes them deep into the desert, where they’ve been told she might be attending a rave. Once there, they weave through the crowd, handing out flyers with her picture, but have no luck. What they do find is a group who mention another planned rave — a place she could very well be. The timing is uncanny: the military soon steps in to shut the party down, and Luis decides to follow this group of ravers as they head toward the next gathering.

The journey is anything but easy. The terrain is punishing, and the group Luis and Esteban trail are reluctant to let them in. Over time, though, they slowly accept the father and son. Still, things begin to unravel, and reaching the second rave starts to look less and less likely. But for Luis, giving up isn’t an option.

Written by Santiago Fillol and Oliver Laxe (who also directs), Sirât is a visceral experience — one that relies more on audiovisual immersion than on a conventional plot. Dialogue is sparse. Explanations are absent. We are dropped into Luis and Esteban’s story with almost no backstory, beyond their desperate search for Mar, the missing daughter. The title itself — Sirât, the narrow bridge spanning the chasm to hell in Islamic tradition — finds its metaphor in the desert landscape, which becomes a character of its own. Laxe masterfully blends tones and genres with total confidence, ultimately delivering a film you feel far more than you understand — and it works precisely because it resists being easy to grasp.

Sirât is a cinematic experience that burns itself into your senses. It offers no simple solutions, but its hypnotic rhythm keeps you riveted. The lack of clear answers becomes an invitation for deeper reflection, which is why the film lingers so strongly afterward. There is a brutal beauty here: the visuals are breathtaking, the journey is unpredictable, and there’s never a dull moment. No single actor dominates the film — instead, the collective presence and imagery propel the story forward.

This feels like a radical act of cinema — merging nature and electronic soundscapes into something haunting and magnetic. When Sirât ended, I was left in a daze. With no clear explanation of what I’d just witnessed, I realized it wasn’t about the destination at all, but the journey itself. And with Sirât, it’s a journey you absolutely must take.