The Wicker Man

 
1973

Dir: Robin Hardy

 
Re-watching this film before going away to a remote village for a few days was possibly the worst idea I’ve ever had. Fortunately I was with my fellow blogger, so if things had turned nasty and the friend we were visiting had gone all Deliverance on us, I could have used him as a human shield.

Robin Hardy’s The Wicker Man is an English Horror classic. I’ve been re-watching a lot of the so-called ‘Classic’ horrors lately, since, as a young man, they still have a fresh, chilling and unsettling effect on me that older people who first saw them may have become immune to. Well, I can safely say that my skin is still crawling.

Police Sergeant Howie travels to the remote Hebridean island Summerisle to investigate the disappearance of a young girl. There he encounters the strangest group of people possible to a devout Christian such as him: pagans. Despite their religious differences, everyone seems perfectly fine at first, but soon enough, sinister events envelop the island and the good officer.

As if its DVD cover didn’t give it away, the ending to The Wicker Man is fantastic. As Horror conclusions go, it’s right up with the frenetic insanity of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, that leaves your ears ringing for days after, or the heart-numbing shock of Anthony Perkins’ smiling skull in Psycho. It really is hard to get past the ending, and I won’t give it away, but I promise you it will sear the enamel right off your teeth.

The rest of the film isn’t half bad either, as Edward Woodward’s annoyingly prudish copper frogmarches his way around the fictional island of Summerisle, insulting anyone who doesn’t believe in the same geezer in the clouds as him. It also features one of the greatest religious putdowns ever; as Christopher Lee’s bombastic and sinister Lord Summerisle well and truly pimp-slaps Howie for his dogmatic ways. Woodward is fine as the stiff Howie, although for a protagonist, he’s about as sympathetic as Hitler. The interest comes from the islanders, in particular Lee, of course, and Britt Ekland, whose naked dance was a pleasant surprise, and made me despair of Howie even more.

As with a lot of the classic horrors of this period, the sound of the film is one of its most unsettling aspects. Whilst in Tobe Hooper’s aforementioned Deep South massacre the constant buzzing of insects begins to scrape at your brain, and John Carpenter synthesizers the fear of God into you in Halloween, The Wicker Man opts for plenty of silence. Wind and silence. Paul Giovanni inserts some music right out of The Third Ear Band playbook, jutting and jarring the silence with sudden flashes of unusual noise to remind that something is seriously wrong here.

Visually, The Wicker Man may be the brightest horror film ever. Hardy’s choice to set almost the entire film during the day is an effective way of highlighting the unforgiving space of the island. There really is no way out for our irritating hero. Just the clouds.

As stated above, it’s hard to get past that ending, but it’s everything leading up to that truly devastating moment that will leave you rooted to your seat long after the film has ended.

**** / *****

Pagans 1 - 0 Christians