n another time. In another place…” The world has been poisoned in this postapocalyptic vision of the future, full of deteriorating yet advanced technologies, where Satylite City is one of the last pockets of civilization, run by the surveillance-loving, attention-seeking, brainwashing, oppressive Plutonovich (Murray Bartlett, playing a cheesy talent-show host of sorts) – a scenario not too dissimilar from “Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome.” Of course, as the prosperousness of the people dwindles and desperation sets in, a prophecy brews out in the mountains, foretelling of the Seventh Son, who could stir souls to rebel – armed only with a guitar. But music doesn’t immediately appear as a viable solution to the dying lands of this polluted earth.

19-year old dirt farmer O’Dessa Galloway (Sadie Sink) nonetheless becomes fascinated with strumming her cobbled-together, metallic guitar and singing tunes (just like her deceased “rambler” father) in the fields to a scarecrow – the only entity that will listen. When her sick mother finally passes away, O’Dessa takes her trusty instrument and sets foot across the purplish hills toward her destiny. Along the way, she crosses paths with bearded, gypsy-like, disreputable priest Father Walter (Mark Boone Junior) and his ragtag gang, who are more than happy to join O’Dessa in belting a few tunes and swigging some moonshine as they continue their journey to Satylite City, where sin and dangerous figures await.

Although the premise is far from original, what with a desolate environment breeding a mythical uprising against tyranny, the use of psychedelic imagery and enthusiastic crooning adds a touch of something new. Like so many other films about societal collapses, controlling cults, and anarchical communities of destitute survivors (comparable to zombie apocalypse scenarios), however, this one boasts colorful characters and powerless protagonists who must fight against enormous odds – here infusing a hint of quirkiness with its musical intentions and marginally family-friendly fantasy elements. But the introductory sequences in (or on the outskirts of) Satylite City resemble “A.I. Artificial Intelligence” a touch too closely, particularly with its neon lights, bizarre costumes and makeup, and moderately-futuristic yet grimy and gritty environments – as well as with its timid approach (restricted by its PG-13 rating) to drugs, cruelty, death, and sexuality.

Fortunately, Sink is sympathetic and likable (amusingly, everyone here does their own singing, with rock songs written by director Geremy Jasper), even if the settings she navigates aren’t as visionary as they could be – perhaps working with a somewhat limited budget. As its background components borrow from bigger productions like “Blade Runner” and “The Running Man” (and even “The Hunger Games,” “Divergent,” “The Maze Runner,” and “The Book of Eli”), while also lifting a concept or two from tinier pictures like “Teenage Caveman,” “Circuitry Man,” and “Solarbabies” (and perhaps “Six-String Samurai” and “Escape from L.A.”), it drags a bit, struggling not just to find a cohesive identity of its own, but also to establish its hierarchy of villainy and the ways in which they should be feared. A whirlwind love story involving a fellow performer, Euri Dervish (Kelvin Harrison Jr.), also under the thumb of murderous henchwoman Neon Dion (Regina Hall, working with little, going too over-the-top with her one-note evilness), similarly falls flat, especially as it follows a generic formula about idealistic people attempting to carry on a romance in the midst of a hellish landscape of brutality and privation.

While there’s a save-the-world type of plot afoot (utterly unbelievable as it is) in this thoroughly uneventful musical drama (an unusual genre mashup, at least), the film is unable to establish the scope of its framework to the point that it feels comprehensive or epic; it’s too narrow in its developments to cover much beyond the central relationship. It may culminate with an anticipated showdown against insurmountable conflicts, but even this is mired in nonsensical, uneven, overly convenient, inexplicable, divine intervention – it’s all foolishness, brashness, and luck, rather than admirable street smarts and genuine skills. By the end, it’s clear that “O’Dessa” needed to be much more chaotic and wild to stand out (or more unpredictable and adventurous, or even comically absurd), even if the music is enjoyably fitting. “You have been chosen!”

– Mike Massie