Justin Chang

But nothing about Sirat feels derivative or second-hand.

It's an astonishing piece of cinema.

I haven't had a more gripping experience in a movie theater all year.

It begins somewhere in southern Morocco, where hundreds of nomadic European revelers have gathered for a rave.

It seems that World War III or something like it has broken out, though the specifics are left vague.

Whatever's going on, Sirat initially plays like a party at the end of the world.

Imagine a remake of the recent dystopian thriller Civil War set at Burning Man, and you'll have some idea.

Lashay sweeps you up in the intense physicality of the dancing and the propulsive beat of the music, composed by the experimental electronic musician Kangding Ray.

Wandering around this unruly desert bacchanal is a middle-aged man named Luis, played by the Spanish actor Sergi Lopez.

This clearly isn't Luis's scene.

Along with his young son Esteban and their dog, Luis is searching for his twenty-something daughter, Mar, who vanished months ago, and whom he has reason to suspect is among the ravers.

but she's nowhere to be found.

And before long, armed officials show up, and, invoking a state of emergency, break up the party.

Amid the ensuing chaos, five ravers drive off, bound for another rave further south.

Luis and Esteban impulsively drive after them, hoping against hope that they'll find Marr.

In Lachey's previous films, including the 2016 drama Mimosas, which also chronicled a perilous journey through Morocco, he has worked mainly with non-professional actors.

With the exception of Sergi Lopez, that's also true here.

The director recruited most of the principal cast from raves that he himself attended, and they're all naturals.

I especially liked Stefania Gada as a woman of few words but immense screen presence.

and Jad Ukid as a dancer of mesmerizing ability.