After co-writing Gravity with his father Alfonso, Jonas Cuaron has literally come down to Earth for Desierto, a survival thriller similar to Gravity except set on the border (and with a budget that was probably a fraction of his father’s film). But Desierto is first and foremost a genre film, and with a big international star in the lead it’s easy to categorize the film as “prestige grindhouse.” It’s a gritty attempt to take the hot-button issue of illegal immigration and transform it into a stalk and kill slasher on the border. The only problem is that Cuaron doesn’t have a single original idea, working with co-writer Mateo Garcia to wrap his film in the safety of conventions, thin characterizations and uninspired story beats. For a film about an unpredictable life or death scenario, Desierto plays it safe from frame one.

Moises (Gael Garcia Bernal) is in the back of a truck with over a dozen other undocumented workers traveling the desert to the U.S. The truck breaks down, and now everyone has to journey to the States on foot, a trip that should take over a day. At the same time, U.S. country boy Sam (Jeffrey Dean Morgan) is out hunting rabbits with his dog Tracker and giving attitude to someone at border patrol who stops him. If the cowboy hat, pickup truck and country music blaring from his studio doesn’t give it away immediately, Sam really hates illegal immigrants (read: non-whites). And to make sure the flipside of this equation is just as simple and underdeveloped, Moises’ defending of a young female immigrant from her predatory helper quickly establishes him as the morally righteous good guy. Then, as these stories go, their paths cross, and Sam begins hunting down Moises with his dog and rifle.

At least Cuaron builds things up nicely in the first act before Sam begins shooting down one immigrant after another, utilizing the desert locale to show off some nice compositions (the opening feels like a direct lift of the opening shot from Carlos Reygadas’ Silent Light). But once the bullets start flying, Desierto amounts to watching Cuaron retrace the steps of far better films. It doesn’t come as a surprise that it takes little time for Sam to slaughter every immigrant in Moises’ company except for Moises himself, and that Sam’s aim seems to be perfect except when pointing his gun at the handsome, recognizable star. It also doesn’t come as a surprise that Cuaron seems to care little about any of the supporting cast except for a young, female immigrant who manages to survive alongside Moises (Note: I tried to find the actress’ name but no actors other than Bernal and Morgan appear to get proper credit in any of the film’s publicity, which all but says these actors are just hispanic cannon fodder). The surprising thing about Desierto is not that Cuaron has essentially made a slasher film on the U.S. border, it’s that the average slasher film is more suspenseful than this.

So with absolutely nothing subversive to bring to the table, and a mostly handheld style that does very little to use any stylistic flair to up the tension, the central chase in Desierto is really stuck in neutral, going through the motions while waiting for the next obstacle to come Moises’ way. The film is typically more dull than dumb, except for one offensive part when Cuaron takes a break to have Moises and his only surviving companion tell each other their life stories. It’s an attempt to add some character development to a film sorely lacking it, but none of it is really that necessary. Even if these characters didn’t have family in the States missing them or supportive parents, the fact is that no one deserves to have some crazed cowboy blow their head off with a rifle for trying to cross a border. The basic need to survive should resonate well enough with viewers; Cuaron’s insertion of these sob stories implies he thinks it’s a point that needs to be argued. And the last thing a film this rote needs is a condescending attitude.

Graphic novelist Emma (the always excellent Alison Pill) works in a sex doll factory by day while drawing a new story at night. The story she’s drawing is about Edward (Gael Garcia Bernal), a famous action movie director trying to make a serious art film. The film he’s making is about Michelle (Mariana Ximenes), a model and aspiring novelist who drops everything to fly to Brazil so she can finish her novel about a graphic novelist named Emma who works in a sex doll factory. Brazilian director Pedro Morelli takes this closed loop of a narrative and throws in as many stylistic quirks and format changes as he can, turning Zoom into a frantic piece of metafiction that feels like nothing more than a collection of half-baked ideas.

At least screenwriter Matt Hansen tries to do something interesting, and for a time Morelli’s slick direction and the strong cast keep things interesting. But the film’s attempts to comment on the creative process get drowned out by Morelli making sure everything stays busy, and gimmicks like making Edward’s story entirely animated (remember, he’s in a graphic novel) look neat but feel superfluous. Bernal’s charm makes Edward’s rather bland story about wounded masculinity passable but Ximenes winds up with the short straw here, as her story winds up being a little too accurate in its attempt to be a bad art film. Morelli’s energy and the strength of Pill’s storyline (by far the best of the three) help make the film go by quickly, although it never winds up breaking past its shiny surface. The finale, where the closed loop transforms into an ouroboros, is neat to watch unfold, but the film might have served itself better if that zaniness came sooner rather than later.

Sound mixing is one of those things that’s easy to take for granted in a film. It’s hardly noticeable when proper mixing produces a good balance of dialogue, background music, and sound effects. But take just one of those elements out of the mix, and the entire production becomes unbalanced, making it difficult to concentrate on the story, or anything else for that matter. In Pablo Fendrik’s Ardor, a slow-burning jungle western, there’s very little substance offered in the film, which only increases the awareness of its poor sound design.

Set in an uncomfortably quiet Argentinean rainforest, a mysterious man named Kai (played by a shirtless Gael García Bernal) emerges from the Paraná River to protect a family of farmers against ruthless mercenaries. These armed men capture the family’s daughter Vania (Alice Braga) as a way to force the family to sell their property. Kai shows up to the rescue motivated by the death of his own family in a similar situation. Preferring to let his actions do the talking, Kai silently defends the land from the gunmen using an arsenal of handmade weaponry and tactical traps.

Most of what’s heard in Ardor are background noises: fire crackling, birds chirping, the jungle floor crunching, and the occasional cry from a gory death. But the film doesn’t have much in the forefront of the sound mix to act as a counterbalance to the ambient sounds. Without enough speaking parts or background music to help keep the sound mix balanced, much of Ardor is noticeably muted. Even the film’s gunfights and action sequences feel surprisingly noiseless, making them come across as dull.

Even without the sound issues, the fight sequences are so painstakingly unrealistic they’re hard to take seriously. At one point, Kai escapes in a canoe from not just one but two men shooting at him from point-blank range, yet they only manage to put a bullet hole in his canoe and shoot the oar out of his hand. And when Kai gets the brilliant idea of laying down flat in the canoe, the gunmen immediately throw in the towel and stop shooting. It’s a scene that would feel more at home in an old cartoon.

While most of the film involves characters either hunting or being hunted, it unfolds like a slow-motion chase. Everyone lacks the motivation to get to their destination in any kind of hurry. And fight scenes go unresolved for plot reasons, making Ardor drag on needlessly in order to fill time. With proper pacing, these moments could have had tension and felt more cinematic.

One redeeming quality of Ardor is its attractive cinematography. Taking advantage of the lush tropical backdrop, the film captures the sun-soaked jungle and its dense vegetation as if it were a character itself. There are also some captivating close-ups of a roaming jaguar, whose spiritual bond with Kai adds a mystical element to the story.

Ardor attempts to create a modern twist on the western genre by using a jungle setting and adding in some magical realism, but it falls short due to poor execution. Although it provides plenty of atmosphere, the film severely lacks in just about every other area. Not even a gifted actor such as Gael García Bernal (No, Bad Education, Y Tu Mamá También), who’s usually great in everything, can elevate a film that offers so little to work with. The result is an eco-friendly jungle western with a tedious narrative, predictable outcomes, confusing allusions, and an underwhelming conclusion.