'Alphorn' is sincere but limited tribute

Never mind chocolate, precision watches, or neutrality. The iconic symbol of Switzerland is the alphorn, the long wooden trumpet that shepherds once used to issue calls from the hilltops and valleys of the Alps. It is an instrument whose power to evoke this landscape was so strong that Swiss soldiers on foreign assignment were once forbidden from playing it, lest they be consumed by homesickness and desert their regiments.

Or so we are told in "Das Alphorn," Stefan Schwietert's well-intended but rather ponderous documentary that begins a five-show run tonight at the Museum of Fine Arts. It opens a series called "Swiss Films with Rhythm," which runs through March 8 . Those who already love this alpine instrument and have been waiting patiently for its moment in the sun may enjoy this sincere tribute and the chance to hear a wide range of alphorn music. Most others will probably feel left on the outside, wondering exactly what all the fuss is about.

Much of our journey is spent with a handful of passionate alphorn advocates of various stripes. We meet, among others, a performer who plays in folklore shows for tourists and feels that the instrument must stay true to its roots; a bearded , scholarly man who is deeply versed in the alphorn's history and wants to expand its repertoire organically and respectfully; and a young avant-gardist who plays growling alphorn improvisations and stages Cagean alphorn happenings in a highway underpass and in a train station.

The film's dramatic tension, such as it is, stems from the age-old conflict between tradition and innovation. The dark, sinister force arguing against modernizing the alphorn repertoire is the Swiss Yodeling Association. Just as you suspected. Actually, some of the most musically engaging scenes feature yodelers joining the alphorn players in spirited ensemble numbers. We also hear some catchy alphorn jazz courtesy of Hans Kennel .

But for all the time spent in the company of this noble instrument, the viewer learns little about the actual history of its use in mountain communities, its technical construction, or perhaps most interestingly, its ability to conjure idealized national visions of a collective past. One might suspect that the attachment to those visions has intensified with perceived threats to the sanctity of traditional Swiss alpine culture, but who knows, since the film's talking heads rarely step back to place things in a broader perspective. For his part, Schwietert seems best at charting the diversity of musical styles on the alphorn scene. This he does with abundant thoroughness and respect.

Jeremy Eichler can be reached jeichler@globe.com.