Sirāt

In Muslim theology, “sirāt” denotes the razor-thin bridge between paradise and hell. It’s a tightrope that French-Spanish filmmaker Oliver Laxe (Mimosas, Fire Will Come) not only walks but practically tap-dances along in his uncategorisable mind-blower of a movie. Part adventure yarn, part trippy odyssey, part meditation on loss, part promo for the joys of dancing, Laxe takes disparate elements and weaves them together with maximalist confidence. The result is a film that is vital, unpredictable, brilliantly made, hard to describe, even more difficult to forget.

Sirāt starts with a jolt of energy. Against ochre-coloured cliffs in Morocco, a full-on rave begins, a desert dance-floor of writhing bodies lost in music, caught in a trap, everybody in the moment without a selfie in sight — it’s such an immersive, intoxicating set-piece you might well feel the need to hydrate.

In this happy, inclusive vibe of druggy abandon, Luis (Sergi López, terrific), a middle-aged dad, and his young son Esteban (Bruno Núñez) are wandering through the throng looking for Luis’ daughter Mar, who has been missing for five months. The pair meet a group of misfit ravers — Stefania Gadda, Joshua Liam Henderson, Jade Oukid, Richard ‘Bigui’ Bellamy and Tonin Janvier playing versions of their real selves — and learn of a mythical second rave. As the military move in to declare a state of emergency, Luis and Esteban follow this band of ‘voyagers’ as they break away from the army convoy and head for freedom, more dancing, and hopefully Mar.

At this point, Sirāt turns into The Wages Of Fear at 150 bpm. What follows is a nerve-jangling trek across treacherous mountain passes and impossible-to-cross rivers in punishing heat, Luis driving a barely roadworthy family car and forming an uneasy alliance with the revellers. Low comedy — there’s a gag involving LSD and excrement — mingles with high-minded themes around the fates, the universe, the apocalypse. “Is this what the end of the world feels like?” asks one character. “It’s been the end of the world for a long time,” comes the reply.

Sirāt is motoring along as an exciting, offbeat, family-is-where-you-find-it road movie played out to Kangding Ray’s banging bass-heavy score (Laia Casanovas’ sound design is also a marvel, turning ambient desert noises into a symphony). Then, around halfway through, Laxe and co-screenwriter Santiago Fillol pull the rug out from both the characters and the movie completely, delivering an almighty gut-punch, then doubling down by accelerating the intensity even further to a shattering climax. The open-ended conclusion might frustrate some, but Laxe handles all the twists and turns with such assurance that it adds another, more legal high to the riveting mix: the thrill of fantastic filmmaking.