Try this film on for size: a revisionist Western with a gloss of umpteenth-generation feminism. Add passing gestures to anti-capitalist ideology and, imagine that, the benefits of assimilation. The setting is 17th-century Britain and the hero is a samurai warrior. Sounds like a mish-mosh, don’t you think? In actuality, John Maclean’s “Tornado” is the leanest and meanest picture to come down the pike in some time.

Can a film as brooding and harsh as this one claimed to be a fun night at the movies? If quality is a watchword, absolutely: Mr. Mclean, who co-wrote “Tornado” with Kate Leys, has made a film whose narrative concision is bolstered by a keen sense of archetype and a good eye for juxtaposition, particularly in how the players are choreographed within the verdant greenery of Scotland. Robbie Ryan proves his mettle with cinematography that is inordinately lush.

“Tornado” is Mr. Maclean’s second feature; the first, “Slow West” (2015), having garnered good reviews, a Sundance jury prize, and a “Brit To Watch” designation from the British Academy of Film and Television. That, too, was a Western, and one doesn’t have to read the film’s press notes to glean Mr. Maclean’s foundations in the genre. Plus, there he is, extolling the films of John Ford and Sergio Leone, as well the oeuvre of a Japanese director, Akira Kurosawa.

Myth, both cinematic and folkloric, hangs heavy over “Tornado.” The film begins with a young woman sprinting into the distance as if her life depended on it — which, of course, it does. This is our heroine, the title character portrayed by the Japanese model Kōki. She’s being pursued by Sugarman (Tim Roth) and his motley crew, some of whom are more ruthless than others. The most treacherous is his son, Little Sugar (Jack Lowden from an AppleTV series, “Slow Horses), a ruffian burdened by daddy issues.

What is a 16-year-old Asian girl doing in the backwoods of the British empire? Tornado and her father, Fujin (Takehiro Hiro), are part of a traveling theatrical troupe in which they perform a play utilizing Samurai marionettes that ultimately morphs into a staged live action swashbuckler. The Brits in attendance enjoy the act, but Sugarman and his crew aren’t in a mood for bestowing critical accolades. They’re on the hunt for a thief who stole their booty from a recent heist — two hefty bags of gold.

Although some of the cast of characters are more noble than others, all of them are conditioned by hardscrabble lives. Sugarman is a murderous brute, pure and simple, and Mr. Roth plays him with a scarifying narrowness of purpose. It’s but the work of a moment to kill anyone, even the stray colleague, should he or she not kowtow to his will. Life is cheap out in these verdant glens — a lesson Tornado takes to with no small hesitation.

With the exception of one chronological hiccup early in the story, a narrative call-back done to bracing effect, “Tornado” is as taut as Buster Keaton’s “The General” (1926), as linear as John Ford’s “The Searchers” (1956), and as concentrated as the suite of movies in which Randolph Scott teamed up with director Bud Boetticher. There’s no real surprise taken in the film’s ultimate comeuppance — revenge movies don’t tend to have a lot of wiggle room in terms of plot — and the denouement is somewhat ripe. Still, the trip Mr. Maclean takes us on is as elegant as it is fierce, and the featured players take to their roles with a welcome stoicism.

“Tornado” is a Western revisioned with a dashing admixture of roots, razzle-dazzle, and restraint.