Sirât (dir. Óliver Laxe)

by Jack Martin | Feb 26, 2026

Certificate: 15

Running Time: 115 mins

UK Distributor: Altitude Films

UK Release Date: 27 February 2026

WHO’S IN SIRÂT?

Sergi López, Bruno Núñez Arjona, Richard Bellamy, Stefania Gadda, Joshua Liam Henderson, Tonin Janvier, Jade Oukid

WHO’S BEHIND THE CAMERA?

Óliver Laxe (director, writer, producer), Santiago Fillol (writer), Agustín Almodóvar, Pedro Almodóvar, Domingo Corral, Xavi Font, Esther García, Oriol Maymó, Mani Mortazavi, César Pardiñas and Andrea Queralt (producers), Kangding Ray (composer), Mauro Herce (cinematographer), Cristóbal Fernández (editor)

WHAT’S IT ABOUT?

In the Moroccan deserts, a group of ravers goes on a tense odyssey…

WHAT ARE MY THOUGHTS ON SIRÂT?

Whoever thought of the classic idiom that is “life’s a journey and not a destination” has most likely never heard of the Islamic theological concept known as the Bridge of As-Sirât. Described as thinner than a strand of hair and as sharp as a sword, as the opening text of filmmaker Óliver Laxe’s Sirât tells us, As-Sirât is what those of the Muslim faith must spiritually cross before reaching either heaven or hell. The journey, however, remains harrowing regardless of where one may end up, with the destination a comfortable reward or punishment for the kind of life that had been led, so in a vague sense shouldn’t that idiom be the other way around?

Although in the case of Laxe’s film, there is no real destination in sight. Like the best road trip movies, Sirât is all about the journey and the people we’re sharing it with, as well as the shocking misadventures that can befall them in an increasingly isolated world where nothing is predictable, nor is it comfortable. Add in a whole bunch of thumping dance tracks, and you have yourself an exhilarating viewing experience that treats the journey and the destination as equally horrific yet entirely engrossing ordeals.

The film begins at a massive rave in the middle of the Moroccan desert, where partiers from across Europe and beyond have gathered to just simply dance as the hypnotic music blares from the numerous deafening speakers. It’s also here where middle-aged Luis (Sergi López) and his young son Esteban (Bruno Núñez Arjona) are going around handing out flyers to people, desperate for information about Luis’ daughter who’s gone missing and is said to be at one of the parties. They eventually join a convoy of rebellious ravers, including one-legged Tonin (Tonin Janvier) and free-spirited Jade (Jade Ouokid), who are all on their way to the next rave after a militia orders everyone to evacuate when a state of emergency is declared, sending them all on a journey through the desert while the world at large appears to be falling apart.

It’s never specified what exactly is going on, but it’s clear that something on a global scale is unfolding far beyond the endless desert horizon, with brief radio broadcasts indicating possible nuclear war or natural disaster but never quite providing the answers. For all we know, this could be what the world was like right before it became the post-apocalyptic wasteland of Mad Max: Fury Road, and given not just the barren desert landscapes and the lenience toward a punk-rock mentality that most people in this film seem to abide by, it wouldn’t be that shocking if that turned out to be the case.

Of course, Laxe is more interested in showing how these particular people respond to the world crashing down and (sometimes literally) blowing up around them, all as an increasingly isolationist vibe creeps its way into the stark and endless environment they travel across. From the moment they head off on their journey – with the title card dropping in a good half-hour into the movie, right after they push the accelerator – these are pretty much the only characters we ever see for the majority of the runtime, and their limited number (plus one or two dogs) creates an eerie nature that suggests these may likely be among the very last of humankind, which adds a great level of tension as you’re never quite sure if they’ll even make it to their destination, let alone complete the trying journey towards it.

Luckily, we are spending most of our time with characters who are incredibly easy to like and therefore root for their eventual (if at all) arrival. They’re not the deepest characters ever written, but given the circumstances surrounding them there simply isn’t much time to get into any heavy backstories, and what little we do get to know about them is surprisingly joyful. You really feel the camaraderie amongst the ravers, as well as the strong connection between Luis and Esteban who serve as the audience avatars in amongst the bohemian lifestyles of their travelling companions, and they work off of each other well, whether it’s providing moral support or simply entertaining themselves (Janvier, who is one-legged in real-life, at one point puts on a highly amusing ventriloquist act using his stitched-up stump).

Genuinely enjoying being around these characters makes aspects of the journey they go on even harder to process, as some will very suddenly be removed from the equation in moments that are genuinely quite shocking, while the sadness lingers since they happen to likeable people who don’t deserve to go out in such unceremonious fashion. There are also moments where your heart will be racing from the sheer intensity of certain scenes, such as one sequence that contains perhaps the most nerve-racking use of explosives since the opening of Saving Private Ryan, while even the simple opening of a car door towards a cliff edge is enough to set your anxiety to the highest possible levels.

It’s beautifully shot, written and directed, as Laxe creates an end-of-the-world (maybe?) movie that revels in the last traces of humanity’s greatest achievements, whether it be the relationships we have forged or the invention of techno music that people can get high and dance along to. If the world is indeed going down the drain, we might as well dance in the middle of nowhere; a lesson that Sirât teaches with profundity and captivating excellence.

SO, TO SUM UP…

Sirât is an exemplary piece of vague end-of-the-world storytelling that sees filmmaker Óliver Laxe form a compelling and often harrowing road trip narrative around themes of isolation and despair that are set to some thumping dance music, all in a film that you’d cross hell and back in order to experience again and again.