by Cris Mora-Villa, Contributing Writer
I’ll just state this right off the bat: Sirât is one of my favorite movies of the year. I’m all but ready to deem it a masterpiece unlike any other picture I’ve seen this decade. I say this because of a particular set of choices that I’m certain just will not work for everyone. These choices have to do with Sirât‘s loosely paced narrative, eclectic presentation, and debatably anticlimactic ending. Though I admittedly don’t have a defense for how the movie handles its ending (my only major critique), the film up to that point does such an outstanding job at feeling like a hypnotically hellish rollercoaster that I can’t help but to bask in its harsh sun.
Something I appreciate about Sirât is that it forces me to reexamine what it is I like about movies. I love it for different reasons than I love Sentimental Value, for example. That is a film brimming with emotion, fleshed out characters, and metatextual ideas at its core. I’m not sure Sirât has even one of those facets. But it does have an energy that makes me feel alive. This is the feeling director Oliver Laxe, along with his cowriter Santiago Fillol, looked to be chasing when developing this film: a sensory-based experience that would remain with the viewer, warts and all. When looking at how they arrived at the final product, one can simply look at the various influences Laxe and Fillol had in mind that stitched the film together.
Sirât premiered in competition at the 78th Cannes Film Festival. One of the first things I remember hearing about it upon initial reactions was the comparison to George Miller’s Mad Max series. I’d not forgotten this remark going into my viewing, so the expectation was well-established. What I did not hear about in all that time were the allusions to William Friedkin’s Sorcerer, a comparison that would’ve had me over the moon in anticipation of this film. Thrown in there is shades of Gaspar Noe’s Climax, and we’re left with Sirât. A sun-drenched flavored cocktail which uses bits and pieces of other movies to perfect a setting tailor-made to put its characters through hell. We are just there for the ride.
We follow a father/son duo in Luis (Sergi López) and Esteban (Bruno Núñez Arjona) as they journey to a remote music festival in the Moroccan desert in search of Mar, their daughter/sister who has purportedly gone missing. Along the way, they encounter a group of nomadic ravers who guide them to another festival to search for Mar. As simple as the drive taken by Imperator Furiosa or Roy Scheider in Mad Max:Fury Road and Sorcerer respectively, that is this movie. I don’t take this statement in any sort of derivative context; far from it in fact. Sirât moves with a vitality that tonally feels removed from the technical fireworks show that is Fury Road, or the pulp-adjacent powder keg that is Sorcerer. It’s content to be much slower and more taxing in its journey, but this is where the power of the movie’s music elevates the setting to new heights.
I had never heard of Kangding Ray before, but his name will be sure to stick out the next time I see him scoring a film. Ray is an experimental techno artist from France who worked on Sirât, and his contributions just might be my favorite part of the film. For as much as I am compelled by the movie’s inherently whirling plot and tension-filled moments, the music drives everything. Electronic synth isn’t necessarily the kind of music I would listen to on a regular basis, but the way it is used here elevates every scene to new heights. If there was one reason I could give for why one should see Sirât in the cinema, it would be to listen to Ray’s pulsating score, as it is played on a loud sound system with reckless abandon. Unquestionably one of the most effective uses of music in any film I’ve seen in recent memory. It not only sets an atmosphere for the viewer — it stands to mean something for the characters.
The inclusion of a pair of gigantic speakers in Sirât’s latest poster is indicative of the power the music holds in the film. It would be a mistake to ignore said power when dissecting the film during its most important moments. I think of one sequence in particular that sticks out where this is brought into focus. I won’t dare tread on the specific details that get our characters to this moment, but a central pillar upholding the movie’s themes is learning to reckon with the danger that surrounds them via music. Luis is single-minded in his goal of finding Mar, and as the movie’s protagonist, we empathize with his mission. What he never stops to realize is the path between eyes and prize is loaded with unseen obstruction that he cannot escape from. The ravers which accompany Luis and Esteban do to some extent understand this and have sought the same therapeutic respite that Mar has. Their philosophy is to escape the world and embrace the freedom that the music provides. Even this, however, is not always enough. There are also events happening in the background of this film that are of significance, despite the relative vagueness circling the entire ordeal. Though it’s unclear the extent to which this directly impacts the characters, it still adds to the chaotic indifference this journey has already brought upon them. Sirât ends on a note befitting its lack of clarity. Though I’m still unable to fully decipher its secrets, perhaps I’m not supposed to. When the world is falling apart, maybe all that’s left to do is just vibe out and go with the wind.
Rating: Loved It
Sirât is currently playing in theaters
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