'The Wicker Man (1973)' is a weird movie. It's weird by design, of course, but weird nonetheless. As soon as Sgt. Howie steps foot on Summerisle, it's obvious that he doesn't belong there. Met with a barely-hidden hostility at every turn, the pious policeman's efforts to locate a missing young girl are constantly thwarted by a series of increasingly obscure twists. The residents of the isolated island certainly are different to the stern and sanctimonious sergeant suddenly acting as an arrogant thorn in their side: they're either horny or singing, or hornily singing... about being horny. Public displays of affection are second nature to the sexually unrepressed islanders, and their pagan religion necessitates seemingly strange rituals in service of their upcoming harvest season. Naturally, Sgt. Howie is aghast at their blatantly non-Christian nature. His constant attempts to sway the citizens into acknowledging what he views as the one true God go entirely unheard, even when he threatens them with punitive action simply for their beliefs. His authority is similarly ignored during his investigative efforts, and there's a sense that he's the butt of an island-wide in-joke that may just have a killer punchline. As an audience, we can do nothing other than watch in horror - and, often, bemusement - as the cop continues to ignore every red flag in his path, heading to a seemingly inevitable destination that only he can't see. Much like the God he holds so dear, Sgt. Howie holds no power on Summerisle. What he does have, however, is an appointment to keep. As his meeting with the eponymous Wicker Man looms ever closer, the picture takes on a more frantic pace and unhinged tone. Things haven't been quite right from the very beginning, but now the oddities of the islanders are starting to seem much more sinister and much more calculated. Almost without you realising it, the piece pulls you into its offbeat little world and guides you through it like you're a marionette - a religious, uptight, sexually repressed marionette in a meaningless uniform. Through gritted teeth and weary eyes, you watch as its hero unwittingly accepts his fate and finally dresses the part, inching ever closer to one of cinema's most iconically hopeless endings. Thankfully, there's not a single bee in sight. The time is set and the Wicker Man waits. The only question is: what for?
It's unfortunate that much of the terror here comes from the blatant othering of non-Christian customs, which is an issue present in quite a bit of folk horror. I'm not too keen on the way in which it portrays the traditions of its focal community as scary simply because they're not readily understood - or, perhaps, experienced - by the core audience. Until its more sinister elements bubble to the surface, the pagan religion practiced by those on Summerisle isn't all that problematic. It's different, sure, but that doesn't make it inherently bad. The picture's eventual outcome seeks to justify its initial judgements - and, to an extent, it does - but it also sets a fairly dangerous precedent and reinforces closed-minded attitudes. However, the piece ultimately feels as though it's more about how Sgt. Howie's unflinching contempt for the non-Christian customs he encounters is what leads to his downfall. In particular, it's his steadfast belief in his own religion and his insistence that it should be accepted by all which blinds him to the danger he's surrounded by. This mitigates the movie's potentially iffy messaging, even if it doesn't totally eliminate it. Plus, the piece puts you in the perspective of its protagonist and much of its horror emerges specifically from within that perspective. If anyone else were in Sgt. Howie's shoes, the flick - and its finale, in particular - wouldn't be as scary as it is, principally because it wouldn't be directly challenging the core beliefs of its hero.
It's worth mentioning that I watched the so-called 'final cut', which is - as I understand it - the closest the film has ever been to its director's initial vision.
It's unfortunate that much of the terror here comes from the blatant othering of non-Christian customs, which is an issue present in quite a bit of folk horror. I'm not too keen on the way in which it portrays the traditions of its focal community as scary simply because they're not readily understood - or, perhaps, experienced - by the core audience. Until its more sinister elements bubble to the surface, the pagan religion practiced by those on Summerisle isn't all that problematic. It's different, sure, but that doesn't make it inherently bad. The picture's eventual outcome seeks to justify its initial judgements - and, to an extent, it does - but it also sets a fairly dangerous precedent and reinforces closed-minded attitudes. However, the piece ultimately feels as though it's more about how Sgt. Howie's unflinching contempt for the non-Christian customs he encounters is what leads to his downfall. In particular, it's his steadfast belief in his own religion and his insistence that it should be accepted by all which blinds him to the danger he's surrounded by. This mitigates the movie's potentially iffy messaging, even if it doesn't totally eliminate it. Plus, the piece puts you in the perspective of its protagonist and much of its horror emerges specifically from within that perspective. If anyone else were in Sgt. Howie's shoes, the flick - and its finale, in particular - wouldn't be as scary as it is, principally because it wouldn't be directly challenging the core beliefs of its hero.
It's worth mentioning that I watched the so-called 'final cut', which is - as I understand it - the closest the film has ever been to its director's initial vision.