The audience at La Guardia Concert Hall for the world premiere of “Ramakien, a Rak Opera,” may have expected a Thai version of the much-acclaimed Chinese opera “The Peony Pavilion” featured a few years ago at the Lincoln Center Festival. No such luck. The word “rak” means “love” in Thai, but, in this case, the layman would be better off going with its cognitive association.Both are rooted in legend, but “Ramakien” is an entirely new fabrication, one in which genuine Thai elements take a distinctly second place.

“Ramakien” draws on an ancient Indian legend called the “Ramayana,” which was adapted for the Thais by King Rama I of Siam around 1800. The portion of the “Ramayana” used for “Ramakien” — the story of the Floating Princess — has been excerpted often for dramatic representation. The evil Totsakan kidnaps Prince Rama’s beloved wife, Princess Sita. With the aid of the White Monkey Hanumen, Rama tracks down his wife and prepares for war against Totsakan. The latter, however, devises a plan to defuse their threat. He commands his niece Benjakai, a sorceress, to disguise herself as Sita and float past Rama’s camp as though she had drowned. Rama is distraught, but Hanumen suspects a trick and persuades Rama to immolate the supposed Sita. When flames threaten her, Benjakai flees, but falls into Hanumen’s hands.

It’s a safe bet that Thai culture back East is nothing like the impoverished dramatic spectacle seen on Friday evening. Indeed, the concept for “Ramakien” came from an American producer, Tim Carr, who currently lives in Thailand and represents the three well-known Thai rock bands that are the primary participants in “Ramakien” — Sek Loso, Modern Dog, and the Photo Sticker Machine.

Mr. Carr’s Thai Gesamtkunstwerk draws not only on Thai legend but also on traditional Thai music (as represented by an instrumental ensemble led by music director Bruce Gaston), and includes a visual dimension provided by the much touted conceptual Thai artist Rirkrit Tiravanija as well as authentic Thai choreography by Pichet Klunchun.

“Ramakien” started awkwardly, as the various bands started playing before the audience had fully settled. And the show did not gain much firmer footing thereafter. We learned what we already knew — that rock music can sound much the same the world over: often earsplitting, sometimes melodious, and usually rhythmically alive, if unvaried. Much of the time “Ramakien” seemed to exist simply to allow the bands to do their thing. In fact, the music is arguably the best part of the show, and I am no fan of the idiom. The songs never seemed to contribute much to the drama, but then, the drama here is so nebulous that this might have been difficult for music of any sort.As an apparent sop to traditionalists, Mr. Gaston’s ensemble had some extended moments in which it accompanied a singer in familiar Oriental chant-like music — a nice contrast — but when playing with the others, they were rendered pretty much inaudible.

Admirers of Mr. Tiravanija were probably disappointed, for his work here was largely a washout. The bands and their equipment occupied nearly the entire stage, as they would at a normal rock concert. Behind them stood 24 rectangular cubicles arranged in three horizontal rows. White sheets in front of them displayed neither particularly interesting nor attractive projected images. Occasionally, the sheets came down, but what occurred inside the cubicles proved even less interesting than the projections. Costumes ranged from the traditional Oriental to the virtually nonexistent (men’s undershorts).

Mr. Klunchun’s choreography, which worked classical elements neatly into his highly stylized framework, contributed one positive element of “Ramakien.” Sarawanee Tanatanit provided a compelling performance as Princess Sita, especially when she traversed the stage en pointe.

But “Ramakien,” bizarrely, never told the story we had been primed by the printed program to expect.When the curtain descended after an hour and 20 minutes, the audience — clearly dumbfounded by the abrupt ending — never had the chance to see anything resembling a floating princess or a funeral pyre. The production entirely missed the opportunity for eye-catching pantomime. In interviews, Mr. Carr has said, “Art is more important than the telling of the story,” and has detailed his fondness for “dramaturgical trompe l’oeil designed to trick the audience into going down a series of dead-end alleys.”Let’s hope he got a good chuckle from his trick.

Audiences may be inclined to take the Lincoln Center Festival’s offbeat offerings on faith, but the festival lost credibility with this bogus concoction.