Alice Braga and Gael Garcia Bernal in Ardor (Participant Media)

In the beginning, an intertitle explains that residents of the northern Argentine rainforest beseech river spirits to aid them when they feel threaten. Thus, early on, Gael García Bernal rises out of jungle river, shirtless, eyes smoldering, as he saunters towards the shore. It seems that a farmer has asked the river for a guardian against the mercenaries gunning for his land. I can think of many people who would love to have a river in their backyard that coughed up Bernal.

The first few minutes have a strange mystical quality, and you get the sense that you are on the beginning of some sort of amazing Werner Herzog/Peter Weir hybrid. Ultimately, you discover Ardor strives to be an environmentally conscious, Amazonian take on the classic Clint Eastwood/Sergio Leone epic western. If you think that may sound ponderous, well, you are pretty much on target.

You see, those mercenaries were sent by nebulous corporations to cajole, bully, and sometimes kill farmers to get them to give up their land. It’s unclear whether it’s for purposes of deforestation or the right to clog up the river with industrial runoff, but be assured their intentions are nefarious and their methods brutal.

Three ruffians eventually kidnap a farmer’s daughter (Alice Braga), and it’s up to Bernal to rescue her, exact revenge, and save her family’s farm. Inching the plot slowly forward, with as little dialogue as possible, are aforementioned smoldering looks; some intense, steely-eyed staring from the mercenaries; and dewy-eyed desire from the daughter. Oh, and there’s a jaguar running around, also staring dewy-eyed at Bernal.

Director/writer Pablo Fendrik practically imitates Leone beat for beat: silent, stoic loner, check; homestead in trouble, check. All the while, it lacks two vital components of a Leone film: Ardor has not a whit of humor. It is the definition of portentous. Also, it moves like molasses. The Good, the Bad & the Ugly runs upwards to three hours, and you don’t feel it. Ardor comes in at just under two and not a moment too soon.

Luckily, if you can ignore the incessantly banal dialogue and the recycled plot, you can enjoy some luminous photography and ripping action pieces (the latrine attack comes to mind), which jolt the film out of the sluggish magical realist reverie it seems to be in thrall to. And everyone gives it their all. You can’t fault the performances. The actors are clearly taking this retread seriously and almost get you to believe them, though their characters never register more than archetypes. Claudio Tolcachir, as the calculating, cold-blooded leader of the bad guys, does a particularly good job. However, this isn’t nearly enough to recommend Ardor, but if you turn the sound down and your brain off, you may enjoy some beautiful scenery.