Sirât

Trekking into an unforgiving Moroccan desert in a desperate search for his missing daughter, Luis (Sergi López) gets caught up in an anarchic rave that resembles Bosch by way of Burning Man, backed by deafening EDM. Tagging along with a group of crusty outsiders as they head for their next hedonistic happening, Luis ventures offroad in a bid to evade the authorities. But as the convoy places itself at the mercy of an unimaginably perilous landscape, their ecstasy is quickly eclipsed by a feeling of damnation.

Opening his film with the assembly of a fortress-like wall of speakers — then unleashing its sonic payload — director Óliver Laxe is candid about his intention to assault the senses. And he upholds that dark covenant with a vengeance, orchestrating a film that casts a fatalistic dread shot through with paroxsysms of black humour. An authentic big screen, big sound experience, Sîrat will have you riveted and rattled for hours after the end credits have rolled.

Astonishing, a harrowing, exhilarating dance of death.

Justin Chang, The New Yorker

The sort of overwhelming cinematic experience and undeniable work of sound and vision that could be life-changing for those ready to receive it.

David Fear, Rolling Stone

[Laxe] pummels us emotionally and psychologically in ways we can’t predict, and have done little to deserve. To be clear: This is both a heavy caution and a high compliment. Not many movies can trigger your flight instinct while rooting you to your seat.

Jessica Kiang, Variety