Director: Robin Hardy
Cast: Edward Woodward, Britt Ekland, Diane Cilento, Christopher Lee
Have I Seen it Before: Never.
Did I Like It: I’ve been vaguely aware of it for years, mainly from contrasts to what by all indications is an odious remake of the film starring Nicolas Cage. One can certainly see where Ari Aster got his ambition to make <Midsommar (2019)>, and in all honesty it makes me appreciate that film a little bit more than I might have four years ago. That more recent films is a ruthless delivery system of dread and horror, and on that level, I think I certainly recognized those qualities, but did not fully appreciate them.
I was not especially frightened by this film, and eventually the dread with which I came into the proceedings dissipated within the first half hour or so.
That’s where the film’s secret genius does come in. Some of the footage resembles a travelogue (the scenes feel like real people, right up until one character knocks out another in a way that can only happen in the movies or TV) of the imagined island of Summerisle, and I nearly start to like these people in their quirks, especially as I find Sgt. Howie (Woodward) increasingly bastardly in vehemence that the people around him should not behave this way, and need to find Jesus.
When the full picture of the plot comes together, I am still not frightened, but I marvel at just how deceptively byzantine was the plot I just took in. Maybe I’m a little more sympathetic towards our protagonist. Seems like going up with the titular Wicker Man is a bad way to go, no matter how much of a dick he has been over the last ninety minutes. I may also be a little less fond of the Summerislians—at least somebody in that crowd needed to be willing to wonder if the crops were still going to fail on them—but I can’t say they were not consumed of the virtue of fair play. They gave Howie every opportunity—including a naked Britt Ekland—to get out of this.