Sirāt ★★★½

The premise behind Sirāt is somewhat simple: a father, Luis (Sergi López), is looking for his missing daughter. He is accompanied by his son Esteban (Bruno Núñez Arjona). Where Sirāt expands in scope and ambition is in its setting and the incomparable perseverance of its characters. The film begins depicting the setup of speakers for a rave taking place in a Moroccan desert. There’s a cut between the speaker configuration and the face of a mountain while pulsing electronic music plays, suggesting an opposition between the music and the imposing mountain, one that is made even more apparent in the desert. It is in between the music and the mountain that Luis & Esteban wander, showing ravers photographs of his missing daughter and asking the psychedelic-influenced crowd if they know of her whereabouts.

Luis is informed that there is another rave that is taking place soon near Mauritania where he could also look for his daughter. When the military suddenly arrives and demands an evacuation due to an escalation in armed conflict, the rave is shut down and the rave-goers’ vehicles are lined up as a caravan to be directed by the soldiers for exit. A group of ravers distracts the soldiers and breaks away from the caravan and Luis follows in his compact van, setting into motion the events of Sirāt.

Unknowing of what is occurring in terms of military conflict, Luis, Esteban, and the ravers chart an uncertain course. They observe the transport of tanks in their journey, and this contributes to a rising sense of unease that persists through Sirāt. The ravers know that Luis’ objective of finding his daughter is a noble one and caution him – for his and Esteban’s safety – against proceeding in his small van. Still, Luis is undeterred. He drives through harsh weather and clouds of dust that form as the ravers in front of him lead the way south. As conditions worsen and their path becomes challenging to drive through, trust becomes a significant dependency on whether they will arrive at their destination. Luis is unsure if he can trust the ravers, and they him, but they will have to manage rations and work together to ensure their vehicles do not become stuck in the rocks and sands. Laxe’s casting of nonprofessional actors as the ravers is an asset to Sirāt as we have no preconceptions of their characters – we know as much about them as Luis does.

Cinematographer Mauro Herce depicts the Moroccan desert as dangerous rather than picturesque. Not for a second is there any suggestion that their journey is a pleasurable one. When filming Sirāt, harsh weather conditions were experienced firsthand by the crew, with reshoots required following a sandstorm that broke most of the crew’s equipment and lenses. Luis, Esteban, and the ravers are always in danger whether from the elements or from the brewing military conflict. Sirāt evokes Henri-Georges Clouzot’s The Wages of Fear in its tension and likewise features a pivotal scene that will make your heart plummet.

The question of whether Luis will be able to find his daughter quickly changes to a question of whether Luis, Esteban, and the ravers will survive the journey. Luis taps into an innate survival instinct and perseverance that can only be accessed in the most dire of circumstances. López convincingly portrays a father who will go to the ends of the earth to find his daughter, and director Oliver Laxe emphasizes this more than anything. Luis’ familial protectiveness speaks to something deeply internal within each of us, akin to our own heartbeats, something not unlike the communal sensation felt in the rhythmic pulsations of electronic music at a rave.