Halldóra Geirharðsdóttir in Woman at War (Magnolia Pictures)

Woman at War is a light, charming tale of environmental activism. Writer/director Benedikt Erlingsson (Of Horses and Men) maintains a tone of gentle social and political satire for a subject usually known for its lack of humor.

With a name that recalls a 17th-century Icelandic highlands outlaw, and clad in a classic Icelandic wool sweater, Halla (Halldóra Geirharðsdóttir) climbs past sheep herds through a beautiful green landscape with a bow and arrow and aims it at electric transmission lines in order to stop a big new development. A potential Chinese investment is hanging over picturesque Reykjavik, like the one in Baltasar Kormákur’s Icelandic noir series Trapped (2015). The electric outage Halla causes occurs just when the government is trying to entice Chinese to build a new aluminum smelter with guarantees of a steady power supply.

Halla has circumspect allies, including a hefty farmer who decides she’s probably a distant cousin, and a nervous aide to the prime minister, an old classmate, who cues her in on the best timing for her infrastructure attacks. The newspaper and the police see Halla’s actions as that of an eco-terrorist, and after each event they round up a usual suspect, an unsuspecting, long-haired, bike-riding Spanish tourist (Juan Camillo Roman Estrada).

CIA and Israeli drone technology are brought in to track down the saboteur, and her getaways become increasingly challenging. That this is like a cat-and-mouse game is emphasized by the musicians that appear around her, a three-piece band (with keyboard/accordion played by the film’s composer Davíð Þór Jónsson, a drummer, and a sousaphone). They are less a Greek chorus than a Brechtian reminder that this is a humorous fable.

The film and the 50-year-old Halla’s life take a jarring turn when an old application she submitted years ago for the adoption of a Ukrainian orphan comes up for acceptance. As she learns more of the war and environmental devastation that has impacted the little girl, she becomes haunted by another set of musicians, a trio of Ukrainian women singers in traditional dress. Will impending motherhood interfere with her political activism? And why does this fable set up this division?

Her twin sister, Ása (also played by Geirharðsdóttir, for additional amusement), is key to solving her dilemma. The seeming opposite of Halla, Ása, a yoga teacher, is all about improving her inner environment, and she’s anticipating living in an ashram in India. Can she change her plans to help Halla either save Iceland’s environment or her chance to become a mother?

With a tongue-in-cheek attitude, Woman at War celebrates both a non-violent eco-terrorist’s mature independence and her connections within the community she is trying to protect. Her adventures are fun to watch, even if the film’s it-takes-a-village spin on the David vs. Goliath battle is simplistic.