Sirāt (2025)

Silent grief, moving through a world that won't stop dancing.

Sirat follows a father and his young son as they search for their missing daughter and sister, moving through a pulsing world of ravers and drifters who exist in a state of total defiance.

There is something incredibly anxiety-inducing about the contrast of a man and his son desperately searching, while around them people dance, laugh, and live. It creates this low, persistent tension that never really lets you relax, for good reason. Despite dealing with some genuinely heavy themes of loss, that often comes with it some deeply confronting imagery, the film never fully drags you completely under. The motley crew that forms around our central duo brings enough warmth and just enough unpredictability, to keep the film buoyant during sections where it could have easily become too much for the viewer.

Remarkably, only two members of the main ensemble had acted before, a fact that blew my mind when I learnt it post-viewing. There’s a rawness to every interaction that makes the world feel completely real. The barren Spanish and Moroccan desert that hosts the characters’ journey is a character in it’s own right, intensifying the journey of the characters.

And the score, you’ll likely hear about it before you even see the film. For good reason. It’s astounding. It doesn’t just sit underneath the film, it drives it, tightening the screws on that ever-present anxiety. This one needs big speakers and no distractions. Do not, under any circumstances, watch this on an iPhone or laptop. I’m begging you. Don’t.