Óliver Laxe's latest film, Sirât, showcased at the 22nd Marrakech International Film Festival, is a profound exploration of human resilience and existential reflection set against the stunning backdrop of the Sahara. As father and son navigate a politically charged landscape in search of a missing loved one, the film challenges viewers to contemplate the intersections of freedom, conflict, and personal transformation. In Arabic, sirât is a word charged with meaning and spiritual resonance. In Islam, it refers to the fragile yet liberating bridge suspended over hell, a passage separating human beings from paradise and opening the way to another world after countless trials that hover between death and rebirth. This is the spirit that permeates Óliver Laxe's new feature film, presented in Morocco as part of the 22nd Marrakech International Film Festival (November 28–December 6). In Sirât, the French-Spanish director follows Luis (Sergi López) and Esteban (Bruno Núñez), a father and son who cross the Sahara in search of Mar, the daughter and sister who disappeared during a free party. On site, the gathering is abruptly broken up by soldiers evacuating European nationals amid the threat of imminent war. From the outset, the tone is political, beginning with the image of a festive protest defending a certain vision of freedom and self-organization. The film opens on a crowd of ravers dancing, or lost in trance, to an overwhelming score by Kangding Ray. Among the participants, Bigui, Josh, Stef, Tonin, and Jade think the missing young woman may have gone further south. Along with Luis and Esteban, they step away from the military convoy and take another path into the unknown. Thus begins their odyssey, an endless route skirting the edge of a precipice, with no possibility of return and no certainty of survival. It becomes clear that one does not emerge untouched from a film like Sirât. It is not watched for entertainment, but experienced to provoke thought, stir emotion, and spark debate. It leaves behind a multitude of questions, cinematic, existential, symbolic, and deeply personal, driven by the director's artistic choice to plunge the viewer into a succession of contrasts, both visual and sonic. Amid the vast and breathtaking Saharan landscapes, electronic beats merge with Quranic recitations, disability meets resilience, and a stance against war confronts the weight of its horrors. The film unfolds as a moment of meditation that challenges everyone. Speaking to Yabiladi, Óliver Laxe insists that none of his films exist separately from his contemplative vision of life, a vision that explains why a single project can take «up to five years» to reach completion. A Film That Invites Self-Reflection on Multiple Levels Laxe takes his time to explore different layers of cinematic interpretation, far beyond pure image or performance. Sirât also echoes his profound connection to Morocco, where he lived for about a decade and forged a deep bond with the south. This emotional attachment largely guided his choice of filming location, as he explains. «With the team, we discussed the possibility of shooting elsewhere. But choosing Morocco was also an excuse for me to return. This country is scandalously beautiful, and making the film here felt completely natural», he told us with heartfelt enthusiasm. Co-produced in Spain, notably with the Almodóvar brothers, the film was shot in Morocco with the support of Mont Fleuri's production team. Reflecting on the process, Laxe praised «the outstanding technical level of Moroccan professionals, people who embody a rare balance of talent and resilience». «A shoot is not only about technical skill», he added. «It requires psychological strength, especially for a film as demanding as this one». Estéban (Bruno Núñez) and Luis (Sergi López) in «Sirât» by Óliver Laxe / Ph. Quim Vives Experienced from the inside, Sirât appears to have been an initiatory journey for the entire crew. Internationally, the film has been selected to represent Spain in the Best International Feature category at the 2026 Oscars. For Óliver Laxe, it marks yet another return to a place he holds dear, cherished as much for the human encounters that shaped him as for the landscapes that lend themselves naturally to documentary realism and to the boundary-pushing fiction he continues to craft.
