The Great Man school of biography is alive—if not particularly well—in The Liberator. A quick glimpse of unloving parents, a tragic lost love, reluctant heroism, sweeping battle scenes, and of course a charismatic international star: All are part of the once-over-lightly treatment. The great man in question is Simon Bolivar (1783–1830), the George Washington of South America; the star is Edgar Ramirez, whose dashing performance as the Jackal in the three-part Carlos bagged him roles in Hollywood projects like Clash of the Titans and Deliver Us From Evil. Because the Venezuelan-born Bolivar’s goal was nothing less than the liberation of an entire continent from colonial rule, there’s a lot to cram into a two-hour movie. This means historical complexity is sidelined in favor of scenes in which Bolivar is nobly seated on the back of a charging horse, or clutched in the embrace of a beautiful woman while assassins lurk outside the hacienda. The images are handsome, but they don’t make much sense.

The movie looks as though it has a budget, so the battle scenes are credible enough. Beyond the appeal of the physical production, director Alberto Arvelo goes for the well-worn anecdote—the equivalent of Washington’s cherry tree or Lincoln’s rail-splitting. A sequence in which Bolivar thrashes the native boy who steals his boots, then reconsiders his privileged reaction, is offered as a classic turning-point parable. This approach leaves aside much of the complicated business of geopolitics, although the recurring figure of an English banker (Danny Huston) stands in for all the outsiders waiting to profit from whatever happens after the revolution. Screenwriter Timothy J. Sexton provides enough scenes of Bolivar delivering speeches to guarantee some rousing rhetoric, and the movie does stir to life whenever an all-or-nothing battle looms. (The musical score is by wonder-boy L.A. Philharmonic conductor Gustavo Dudamel.)

The brawny Ramirez handles both speechifying and swordplay with aplomb, and he suggests just enough of Bolivar’s aristocratic blood to keep the character from becoming saintly—Ramirez always looks as though he might be tempted back into lying in a hammock and eating peeled grapes. That’s not enough to save the movie, which never rises above the level of a dutiful classroom essay. Opens Fri., Oct. 3 at Sundance Cinemas. Rated R. 118 minutes.

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