In Islamic eschatology, the **'Sirāt'** is a bridge spanning the abyss of Hell, described as being thinner than a hair and sharper than a sword’s edge. Only the righteous, those whose souls are unburdened, can traverse it to reach Paradise. Oliver Laxe’s latest masterpiece, *Sirāt*, transforms this religious metaphor into a visceral, dust-choked journey across the desolate landscapes of Southern Morocco and the disputed territories of Western Sahara.
The film opens with the hypnotic thrum of a desert rave. Here, among a sea of campers and vans, wanderers lose themselves in the relentless beat of techno and synthesizers. Amidst this drug-fueled euphoria, Louis (Sergi López) and his young son Estefan search for Mar, a daughter long lost to the desert's vastness. Their quest is interrupted by the sudden intrusion of reality: rumors of World War III crackle over the radio, and soldiers arrive to announce the party is over. Yet, driven by a father’s desperate hope, Louis pushes further into the "forbidden lands," trailing along the narrow, cliffside roads of the Red Mountains.
Laxe masterfully juxtaposes the hedonistic trance of the rave with the grim reality of a forgotten geopolitical conflict. The film’s backdrop—the 2,600km Moroccan Western Sahara Wall—serves as a physical manifestation of the *Sirāt*. As the characters navigate these precarious borders, the synthesizer’s pulse acts as the film’s heartbeat, echoing the internal tremors of those trapped between survival and salvation. The lyrics have lost their meaning, leaving only the raw power of sound to guide the viewer into a fever dream of fate and reckoning.
Ultimately, *Sirāt* is not merely a search for a missing person; it is a profound exploration of human endurance under the shadow of the apocalypse. As the characters face the "Bridge of the Desert," the film asks whether survival is a result of divine will or a sheer, desperate act of defiance. Trapped between the towering speakers and the vast horizon, the tragedy of the desert leaves a searing ache in the soul. It is, without a doubt, a definitive cinematic achievement of the year. (By Jae-hwan Park, Seoul 2026)
