Sirāt

In the stark, sun‑scorched mountains of southern Morocco, a small, determined duo sets out on a quest that feels both intimate and boundless. Luis, a resolute father, and his curious son Esteban are driven by a single, haunting photograph—a picture of their missing daughter and sister, Mar, who vanished months earlier amid the frenzy of a remote rave. Their journey begins as a quiet, hopeful distribution of that image, a thread of fragile hope stretched across a landscape that seems to echo with both silence and distant beats.

The world they traverse is a striking juxtaposition of rugged wilderness and pulsing nightlife. Electronic rhythms drift on the wind, turning the barren peaks and open deserts into a backdrop for an uneasy sense of freedom that feels both alien and intoxicating. As the pair follows a wandering group of ravers toward a final, isolated gathering in the desert, the line between the raw, unforgiving terrain and the hypnotic allure of the music blurs, inviting them—and the audience—into a liminal space where survival and sensation intersect.

Amid this contrast, the relationship between father and son becomes the film’s emotional core. Luis carries the weight of parental responsibility while confronting his own limits, and Esteban balances youthful curiosity with a growing awareness of the world’s stark realities. Their bond is tested and deepened by the strangers they encounter, including the enigmatic presence of a dancer named Jade and a steadying figure called Stef, whose quiet camaraderie hints at unexpected alliances. Together, they move through a landscape that is as beautiful as it is brutal, guided by a shared determination to reclaim what was lost, all while the desert wind carries the faint, relentless echo of the rave’s electronic pulse.

Last Updated: August 20, 2025 at 17:42