TIFF 2025: ‘Sirat’ Is An Oppressively Beautiful State Of Hypnoses

In a crazy world, all we can hope to do is dance the pain away. It’s an attitude sun-baked into the heart of Oliver Laxe’s enveloping Sirat. But as its purgatorial odyssey unfolds, it quickly becomes apparent that the sentiment is less of a coping mechanism and more of a grand act of submission. To the chaos of the world? To the indifference of the sublime? It’s not so clear, but after 115 techno-thumping minutes, Laxe’s film jolts and awakens us to the futility of our situation like few other experiences.

Sirat fiercely clutches at the senses. It plunks us onto a grueling path between paradise and hell, anguish and hope that forgoes traditional narrative structure to become a painterly, sonic-visual symphony. To enter Sirat’s dominion is to enter a cinematic trance so engulfing that we become one with its oppressively gorgeous desertscape.

As it slinks its way through each visceral twist and turn, Sirat practically taunts us with a quandary: Should we too enter a state of despair or continue head-bobbing to the madness? While muddled metaphors swing in both directions, there’s no mistaking Laxe’s film as anything but a triumph.

Sirat manifests as a techno-infused screech about the state of the world.

Set in an almost-apocalyptic near-future, Sirat follows a group of passionate ravers in search of what may be the final party in the Moroccan desert. As they travel in a ramshackle caravan stocked with water, food, and fuel, the radio news warns of ceaseless conflict, dire diplomatic relations, and dwindling resources. The brutal, arid environment seems to be a reprieve from the terror, if nothing else. Yet, the beautifully bleak world Laxe conjures unmistakably draws from our own.

Couple the aftereffects of a global pandemic with an ever-rising climate crisis, and it’s apparent that death, desolation, and a general air of apathy are currencies on the rise. With Sirat, Laxe hones in on these feelings with unflinching abandon. After all, in a civilization course-correcting towards self-annihilation, there’s little to say and much to do.

The film takes that mantra to heart, sidestepping dialogue for long stretches to drown audiences in pure sound and vision. It elicits guttural reactions that not only shock and stupefy but also aim to jolt us into action. In its most primal, heart-wrenching moments, Sirat manifests as techno-infused screech into the aether, hoping anyone or anything will heed its call.

The hellish journey opens with Luis (a subtle, absorbing Sergi López) and his son Esteban (Brúno Nuñez Arjona) in their own personal hell, sifting and searching the grounds of an open desert rave for his daughter, Mar. Set to the tune of hypnotic, pulse-pounding music by artist Kangding Ray, Laxe conjures an opening that becomes almost siren-like.

Director Oliver Laxe builds a rare expierence with Sirat that reverberates within you.

Languorous, lyrical shots of swaying bodies beckon us to lose ourselves to the rhythm and the pure catharsis on display. Through pure music and motion, it’s a segment that paints a deeper, more meaningful portrait of a raving culture mostly lost to vapid TikTok clips and hashtags.

After hearing of another rave deep in the desert, Luis and his son hitch up with veteran ravers Josh (Joshua Liam Henderson), Jade (Jade Oukid), Stef (Stefania Gadda), Tonin (Tonin Janvier), and Bigui (Richard Bellamy) in a desperate, last-ditch effort to find Mar. Together, they traverse perilous, sun-soaked locales that double as spaces for painful loss and reflection—interpersonal and societal. Laxe’s desert of nightmares not only becomes a bastion for awe-inspiring emotions but a daunting reminder of our minuscule role in the universe’s cold, cruel master plan.

Laxe, in tandem with cinematographer Mauro Herce, relishes the scope and scale of the striking desert, capturing each terrifying mountain cross, ensnaring sand bed, and fleeting dune in epic yet intimate detail. Sirat casts a spell that feels both guttural and surreal, a mesmerizing synthesis of dire worldly realities and otherworldly feelings. Along with Laia Casanova’s deafening sound design, which transforms the scorched earth into an instrument itself, Sirat builds to a deliriously explosive climax that doubles as a cruel, cosmic game.

Sirat is the rare experience that reverberates within you. Despite its grueling and futile outlook, it’s an energizing work that calls us to action with each pull of the rug. It might be too late to alter our course, but Sirat’s thrills ensure we’re alive and aware enough to try to do something to turn the tide.

Sirat played as part of the 2025 Toronto International Film Festival.