Review: Nature mesmerizes but ultimately lulls in ‘Yakona’

Past and present intersect poetically in “Yakona,” a wordless, stirringly photographed documentary chronicling several thousand years in the life of the San Marcos River.

Like other once-pristine natural settings (the title means “rising water” in the local Native American tongue), the Central Texas tributary hasn’t always been the scene of blissful serenity.

But rather than filling their ecologically minded film with the usual talking heads and scary factoids, directors Anlo Sepulveda and Paul Collins have taken a more lyrical approach to their preservation message.

With its stunning imagery set against a propulsive ambient score, “Yakona” is more than a bit reminiscent of the Philip Glass-orchestrated “Koyaanisqatsi” and “Powaqqatsi” experimental films from the 1980s.

Here, Sepulveda and Collins combine extreme close-ups and slow-motion with snippets of historical re-creations and more recent activities occurring along the banks of the San Marcos, including the demolition of the corroding, long-shuttered Aquarena Springs theme park, to meditative effect.

There’s no denying that those images, many of which have been shot from the river’s point of view, cast a mesmerizing spell — up to a point. Unfortunately that point arrives prematurely in a film that would have been more potent had it been a 40-minute short rather than a feature-length proposition.

“Yakona.”

No MPAA rating.

1 hour, 25 minutes.

Playing: Laemmle’s Music Hall 3, Beverly Hills.