Competition Films at LIFF 2025: Unmissable Road-Trip Films at This Year’s Festival

Road trips are a ubiquitous presence in films and two of the latest additions featured in this year’s festival are ‘Omaha’ and ‘Sirāt’. Just as Road-Trip films don’t discriminate on the basis of genre, budget, or style, these two films, though starkly different, offer different explorations of what a journey can reveal. Restricted to a home-library-home routine for the last few weeks, these films carried TSOTA writer Arlo far from Leeds. 

Omaha

Omaha Cercamon. Image Credit: Leeds International Film Festival.

In the wake of their mother’s death, siblings Ella (Molly Belle Wright) and Charlie (Wyatt Solis) are hurried into a car by their father, Martin (John Magaro). His mysterious urgency quickly propels them onto the highway with most of their belongings, motoring towards an uncertain world of salt flats, sad dads, goodbyes and a gorilla. 

‘Omaha’ doesn’t do anything new with the road trip genre, but it certainly possesses all the elements of successful road trip films in the past. The wholesome sing-along, random pitstops that become highlights of the journey, the gas station characters who double as sherpas, headlights that function as warm lanterns of refuge when resting by the roadside, and, of course, stunning cinematography of landscapes. In this case, Utah is the shining star.

However, road trip films never fail to elicit a feeling of trepidation when the passengers seem to be having a little too much fun. ‘Omaha’ is far from a thriller, but the first few seconds of a road trip singalong instantly had me thinking that it was too good to be true. Perhaps I’m scarred for life from the car accident in ‘Hereditary’, but I pre-emptively squirmed the moment Ella opened the window. I was half-right to, though, as this scene is one of many that showcase Martin’s dysfunction as a father. He viciously scolds Ella for getting up to look out the window, despite watching her beforehand and choosing not to intervene. What is compelling, though, about Martin (until the shocking final third of the film) is that while he might lack some care, he does not lack love. He is not a malicious parent, just traumatised.  

Ella’s character strikes a chord for older siblings in the audience. Poignantly placed in the co-pilot’s seat in the absence of her mother, Ella takes on a parental role that deprives her of the innocence her brother is allowed. The blocking of the actors in the car cleverly perpetuates this dynamic, with Ella able to witness her father’s twisted, sunken facial expressions which her brother can’t see. However, just 9 years old, Ella is still a child herself, something we are starkly reminded of when she pays for petrol by herself, losing her spot in the queue because a man can’t see her standing there. 

While ‘Omaha’ could be called pessimistic or depressing, there is significantly more joy in this film than audiences are giving it credit for. There is an incredibly optimistic tone to the scene where Martin’s kids sing along to a playlist made by his late wife, despite the obviously tragic circumstances. The scene in the zoo also sees our protagonists having a joyous interaction with butterflies that borders on magical realism. Moments like this mean ‘Omaha’ is definitely devastating, but it’s also delicate, tender and undeniably gorgeous.

Sirāt

Sirat, Altitude. Image Credit: Leeds International Film Festival.

‘Sirāt’, directed by Óliver Laxe, is a very different take on the road trip genre. It follows desperate father Luis (Sergi López) as he searches for his daughter after she goes missing at a rave in Southern Morocco. After a spontaneous decision to follow a subgroup of misfits to another rave in hopes of finding  her, Luis and his son Esteban (Bruno Núñez Arjona) embark on a spiritual, soul-searching journey that marks them forever.

Cortisol-spiking, mind-bending, and chest-vibrating, watching this film is an incredibly visceral experience that demands a viewing on the biggest screen you can find. The first half is incredibly gripping, with some hallmark thriller moments, but the second half is where ‘Sirāt’ really puts up a fight. 

While Laxe carries us into more mystical and metaphorical lands, there are absurdist and fantastic sequences, bordering on silliness, which threaten to alienate the viewer, occasionally succeeding. However, if the viewer allows themselves to be indoctrinated into this exhilarating, boundless world, then the final third will reward them with a response so gorgeously carnal that they might be ripped in half. And why else do we go to the cinema if not to try and feel as much as we can?

Techno-experimental DJ Kangding Ray (also known as David Letellier) was awarded the Cannes Soundtrack Award for the score of ‘Sirāt’. His music is described as dystopian and otherworldly, perfect to accompany the Mars-like environment of ‘Sirāt’. Techno music and desert landscapes both share an intense level of minimalism, brutality and roughness. The more this barren wilderness ruthlessly takes from the protagonists (lives, water, cars), the more the thumping soundtrack begins to feel like the dark, monstrous voice of the desert. Kangding Ray reminds audiences just how effective techno music can be as a storytelling device, perhaps because of its repetitive and minimal style.

It was unsatisfying to be deprived of another rave scene after the opening sequence, which features some incredible cinematography that captures the transcendent, collective ecstasy of being in a rave. As the lonely, wandering characters of Luis and his son, it feels like they could have benefitted from a further immersion into the community-focused rave scene. Perhaps retuning to this aspect would turn it into a completely different film, but steering ‘Sirāt’ towards the road trip genre and away from the theme of raving left me missing the dancefloor. 

If nothing else, ‘Sirāt’ is a film whose moments cling to you. The moment when the group are moving their bodies to music in an open stretch of desert, drenched in grief and confusion, immediately evokes images of Glastonbury’s 7am warriors who keep grooving long past the DJ’s exit. The last ones to stay and party are usually seen as God’s forsaken rejects, left to be punished. ‘Sirāt’ shows that maybe these wayward souls are the ones most directly attuned to the disparity of life’s pointless rhythms.

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