How far would you go to rescue the ones you love? For most of us, such a question isn’t even worth asking, since there are limits to the risk we are willing to take to help the people we care about, which is even more applicable for the love a parent has for their children. Yet, would it still be wise to put yourself in the path of danger in the process, without any concern for your own safety? This is what Óliver Laxe uses as the starting point for Sirāt, his epic psychological drama that follows Luis, a Spanish man who makes his way down to southern Morocco to find his daughter, who has been missing for months. He believes that she is at one of the many raves that take place in the desert, and along with his son, sets out to retrieve her before she gets into too much danger, which is exacerbated by growing tensions that put the country and its people on the brink of war. He accompanies a group of attendants as they voyage into an even more remote part of the country, planning to attend yet another party, not realising that dangers are lurking around every corner. A bold and revelatory work from a director who has already proven himself to be the definition of a visionary (Fire Will Come is a postmodern masterpiece if there ever was one), the film is a brilliant work that never abates in its willingness to push boundaries, capturing the spirit of chaos that has oddly become quite rare in contemporary cinema. A jolt of electricity followed by a series of increasingly tense moments that force the viewer into something very close to an outright existential crisis, which is all part of the process of taking this journey with Laxe, who perhaps finally will receive the attention he deserves as one of the most exciting young voices in contemporary cinema, an endlessly audacious auteur whose tendency towards unsettling the very core of the genres he admires is the primary reason this film – much like his previous work – will come to be seen as entirely definitive of a new era of cinematic provocation.

On the surface, Sirāt seems exceptionally simple, since the story is entirely straightforward – a father coerces a group of ravers to escort him to find his daughter, leading to a harrowing journey through the desert in which they all encounter various challenges that gradually increase in intensity and terror as time progresses. However, the brilliance of this film comes in Laxe’s ability to so effortlessly create a bold, daring atmosphere that is as enthralling as it is thought-provoking, which emerges in the themes embedded deep in the heart of the film. The overall aim here is to examine the extent to which someone will go to save those that they love, contrasted sharply with the fears and anxieties that come with leaping into the unknown. There isn’t too much political commentary in this film, despite the chaos that forms its foundation, being based around the early days of a war. The exact context is not clear – outside of some vague allusions to the setting (which is somewhere in between Morocco and Mauritania), the exact circumstances of the conflict are not clarified, making it obvious that the film was less about the specific causes and rather the impact such a war can have on ordinary people. It’s difficult to get a direct handle on this film and what it represents as a whole, outside of the more surface-level themes, but it’s in this refusal to be overly complicated that Sirāt proves to be such an enormously entertaining work. The contrast between a father and his young son seeking out their loved one, and the burning desire of their travelling companions to find a party even more provocative than the last creates a fascinating dynamic – and without ruining some of the many incredible (and vaguely insidious surprises) embedded within, we can appreciate the extent to which Sirāt goes to make a statement on the absurdity of the human condition and our continous efforts to chase after what we truly desire, ignoring the risks and simply embracing the madness that defines an otherwise deeply unsettling world.

The foundation of Sirāt is built on the dynamic between characters. This film is a picaresque journey about the futility of human existence, and the challenges that come when we confront harsh, terrifying realities of life, which we come to learn are not any easier to navigate when accompanied by others who are just as confused and ill-equipped for the surprises that lurk behind every corner. It is an ensemble effort, but it is anchored by Sergi López, an actor who has done an astonishing amount of great work over the years, but who has not always received his due, despite his versatility and ability to capture such unique insights into the human condition, especially in his scenes across from the young but incredibly impressive Bruno Núñez Arjona, who holds his own and becomes the beating heart of the film after a while. He’s joined by a cast of half a dozen non-professional actors, each one bold and unique in their own way. Choosing a highlight of these lesser-known performers (most of whom go by their real names, and are drawn from the raving world that forms the foundation for the story) is impossible, as they are such unique characters, adding invaluable nuances to a set of characters who could have easily been nothing more than thinly-veiled archetypes, but instead have a complexity and nuance that is difficult to ignore. A range of eccentric personalities contrasted by a growing sense of danger is a fantastic formula for a film that keeps us engaged, especially when we form such a strong connection to every one of them – from the start, we know at least half of them will be exiting the film in increasingly violent and unsettling ways, but it doesn’t stop us from being aghast when they meet their fate, Laxe creating an ensemble that may seem expendable at the start, but prove to be vital to the overall success of this film throughout, an achievement in pairing a seasoned veteran with complete newcomers, and allowing the naturalism of their performances to both complement and contradict the outrageous despair of the story that surrounds them throughout the film.

Laxe was clearly driven by the desire to push the boundaries of his craft, which he does through embracing the sensory aspects of the film, rather than focusing on the story more than was necessary. Sirāt is a film about the search for someone who has gone missing, but rather than depending on the usual trite conventions that we would expect to find from such a narrative, the director focuses on creating a memorable atmosphere, which is done through visuals and sounds, which are the most powerful tools to bring this story to life. The film is driven by its mood – chaotic, offbeat and entirely disorienting, with the pulsating music and sweeping shots of the Moroccan landscape creating an unforgettable experience, one built primarily on the act of unsettling the viewer through playing on every one of our senses, even those that do not make sense in this format – we can see and hear every tense moments, and the pulsing energy creates the illusion of being able to feel entirely immersed in this arid landscape. It’s a marvel of filmmaking where absolutely every decision is integral to the overall experience, placed at a particular point for the sole reason of reflecting the chaos and despair lingering beneath the surface. It’s an extraordinary work, and while Laxe has done more than enough to highlight his personal talents as a director, this feels like even more of an elevation of his ideas: a bold, corporeal experience that plays on every sensation imaginable, as well as unlocking certain emotions that we could never fathom coming from such a film. It’s a staggering achievement in form alone, and the manner in which Laxe manages to cobble together such a moving, enthralling work from such a seemingly simple premise is even more proof that he is one of our greatest living filmmakers, and someone whose perspective and artistry has never been more needed.

While the story is relatively simple, Sirāt is a film that is impossible to categorise – this applies not only to the genre (with the blend of psychological thriller, road trip comedy and even a touch of horror, making it far too fluid to actually be pinned down to a particular classification), but also to the conventions of the era in which it was made – Laxe borrows from filmmakers past and present, but somehow manages to create something that feels entirely detached from any recognisable period, representing a new form of filmmaking that is defined less by recognisable ideas and more by the willingness to challenge the very fabric of the medium. It doesn’t challenge so much as it intentionally unsettles, creating a harsh and captivating drama that blends ideas that are impossible to pin down to a particular genre – it is as shocking as it is hypnotic, with a few moments of genuine horror that will make even the most desensitised of viewers squeal in despair, realising that Laxe saw the opportunity to redefine the limitations of what can be shown on screen, and wasting not a single moment in pursuing these ideas. It’s a wonderfully strange, unsettling film that consistently pushes beyond the confines of the medium, and leaves us both aghast and enthralled, a combination that is not lost on the director. Laxe will undoubtedly come to be seen as one of the great filmmakers of his generation, and while the unhinged nature of Sirāt may make it a slightly acquired taste, those who can leap onto his wavelength will find a lot of value in this film, a bold and audacious vision from a director who consistently exemplifies everything that we love about the craft of filmmaking.