Review: The Wicker Man (1973)

“OH JESUS CHRIISST!!!”

Summer’s here in full, so let’s talk a movie that basks in the season. It’s got everything—blue skies, fruit harvests, folk festivals, and just a little bit of human-immolating cults at play. Put on an animal mask and let’s dance with the original Wicker Man. 

Directed by Robin Hardy, The Wicker Man came about in an era when pagan revivals and folk themes were very much coming in vogue—see the 56,000 concept albums around this time that reflect that. Coming off the wave of bloodsoaked Hammer Horror flicks starring Christopher Lee, the producers bought him aboard while at the same time seeking a thriller flick relying on more beyond just shock and gore—and in that, as we’ll get to, they very much succeeded. 

We follow Edward Woodward as Sergeant Howie, a somewhat grouchy policeman arriving on the picturesque Scottish isle of, well, Summarisle, investigating the disappearance of a little girl. Howie is an outspoken Christian, one very proud of his celibacy (quite the plot point, as it’ll turn out), and by the standards of the early seventies, this made him a bit of the stick in the mud—by today’s, he seems more a little bigoted. However, he is unquestionably committed to finding the fate of the seeming victim come hell or high water—and when faced with the smiling but obstructing villagers, who are clearly hiding something behind their cheeriness, it’s not long before the viewer’s sharing his frustration. 

That’s probably where the subtle disturbing notes of the film come in—the locals of Summarisle are essentially good-natured folk who seem to enjoy having a fun time, as 70s British movie regular Britt Ekland exemplifies. At the same time, they all seem happy to partake in an elaborate ritual of deception, wearing down our sergeant, and it may as well be part of the May celebrations to them. There’s enough real world parallels with cults from Jonestown to Heaven’s Gate, with how such senses of community and faith can be twisted, for it to strike all the creepiest of chords. 

Pictured: every 50-year old teacher trying to 'get hip with the kids' at a school dance.

The real star of the film, as we see, is Lord Summarisle himself—played by everyone’s favorite vampire Sith wizard with the Golden Gun, Christopher Lee. With his baritone, charm, and perfectly steeled eloquence, Summarisle dominates every frame he’s on, and is all too fast to verbally disarm Howie whenever they meet. Much like the rest of his little island cult, Summarisle hides more beneath his smiles and charm—with hints of a more cynical edge that, if only for a second, Howie finds a fleeting chink of doubt in. It’s a good touch that leaves the viewer to wonder just what might come next for the Lord and what he’s created here. 

And of course there’s the climax—the one spoiled on every poster of the film. It’s that contrast of Howie desperately trying to find an escape as everyone else laughs and dances outside that make it so memorable—there’s nothing explicitly supernatural here, and that’s what gives it that crucial air of believability that adds the cherry on top. A curmudgeon he may be, but by now, most viewers will be rooting for an out that never comes…

It may be a slow burn for some modern viewers, but that’s what makes the Wicker Man still satisfying fifty years on. It’s that kind of combination that’d be so hard to replicate…but they tried anyway!

Yep, no avoiding it now, I might as well talk about the Nicolas Cage-starring remake from 2006. Well, well, well…erm…how do I put this…I can certainly buy that the filmmakers there watched the original, while also huffing strontium-laced industrial paint they use for Russian ballistic submarines. It really has to be seen to be believed, between the really strangely executed themes of matriarchy that can’t decide what they’re sending up, or Cage punching old women in the face every few minutes in the last third. Then doing the same, dressed as a bear. There’s one moment where he rants about “seeing something that doesn’t make sense whenever I turn my head”, and that moment I was convinced he was breaking character and trying to talk to the director—which sums the whole thing up. 

And that's all the expression you need for that one. 

Put simply, if the original is a fine meal, the remake is a burger made by a hungover hippie who can’t really remember what he put in it. But if you want an actual good remake of the Wicker Man? Then I heartedly recommend Ari Aster’s Midsommar from a few years back, which while not exactly the same, hits a lot of the same notes in terms of feeling and theme. 

Or, basically, not the bees indeed.