Sirat Review – Raving in the desert leads to a wild quest in the sands of Morocco | film

HeyLivre Lax leads its audience into a wilderness of meaninglessness in this strange, oppressive, unrewarding film that won the Joint Jury Prize at Cannes this year and garnered all sorts of critical superlatives. For me, Sirāt is the most over-praised film of the year – infuriating and bizarre in ways that become less interesting and more ridiculous as the film progresses.

There is a moment of tragic horror in the middle of the work, which is neither understood nor explained, and whose (supposed) emotional and spiritual consequences are not conveyed. It simply feels forced and even a bit comical. The subsequent explosions in the desert are downright Pythonic. However, as with Lacks’ previous film Mimosas, there are some wonderful visual moments and elegant shots of the Moroccan desert landscape. Veteran Spanish actor Sergi Lopez gives Sirat some heft.

Sirat It’s the Arabic word for the narrow, perilous path that takes you to heaven, and there’s something mysteriously interesting about the crowded crowds of people we initially see at a rave in the Moroccan desert. It’s a brave group. They both look like Dionysian wanderers and lost souls writhing in hell.

Two strangers appear: middle-aged Luis (Lopez) and his young son Esteban (Bruno Nunez Arjona) with their dog Pepa. (Esteban’s mother is not mentioned.) Luis distributes flyers with a photo of everyone there, sternly asking them if they have seen his teenage daughter, Mar, who disappeared months ago and may have been in such a delirium. They shake their heads vaguely, some of them seem faintly hostile to these interlopers, perhaps skeptical of some kind of accusation, but some of them at least show wary sympathy: Bijoy (Richard “Bijoy” Bellamy), Jade (Jade Oked), Steph (Stefania Jada) and Tonin (played by Tonin Janvier, a street performer who has one leg, and later sweetly performs a song).

When the army arrives to disperse the group, seizing the desert for military purposes, and attempts to drive everyone’s trucks away on an approved route, Bijoy and others defiantly swerve and drive away, heading for a second team somewhere in the outback. Louis follows them in his car, sensing that the answer to Mar’s disappearance may lie in that direction. But should Louis go looking for Mar? She is an adult and you may not want to be found.

Well, the possibilities and consequences of the dual narrative fade into nothingness as the story disappears into the sand, as does the question of whether hippies and Lewis can learn from each other. In shock and despair after the turbulent events that follow, they take psychoactive substances and dance to electronic music emanating from the speakers. The doors of perception in the film remain closed. Al-Siraat is a road to nowhere, an improvised scene in the desert; It’s very impressive in the first ten minutes but worthless as it progresses, a pointless mirage of unearned emotion.