The Wicker Man, an intimidating pagan fable that puts its remake to shame

There is something special about folk horror films. The fact that they are set in faraway places, separated from civilization with people following strange customs, settings for rituals to take place, disappearances, chases, facing environments as hostile as their locals, and worst of all, being disconnected from any means of communication that is vital for survival. As someone who has had the opportunity to work in the field for a long time, I have always felt that the hills, mountains, rivers, remote islands and even vast fields of crops hold secrets that can be intimidating and hold dangers if you don't tread carefully. It was my destiny to see Robin Hardy's The Wicker Man (1973). I made it late but it was worth it.

I wouldn't call it a drawback at all, but I had the caveat that I knew the story of The Wicker Man before I saw the 1973 film because I had seen the 2006 remake starring Nicolas Cage many years ago. That film didn't exactly seem like a good movie to me, and after having seen it for a long time I had a very vague memory of it and to make matters worse, I had thought that who played Willow in that film was Claire Forlani, and when I saw the film on another occasion I confused her with Vera Farmiga (hahahaha! blondes, I used to confuse them).

Over time, I began to read more about the original version of this pagan horror tale, thus piquing my interest to see it someday. It also contributed to my curiosity to know that Iron Maiden, one of my favorite musical groups, made an excellent theme song based on this movie. But what motivated me most to seek it out was the fact that it is one of the primary influences of that sinister gem given to us by director Ari Aster, Midsommar (2019), a film with a similar theme that became one of my favorites in this style. So when the time came, I didn't think twice and decided to watch the original seventies film.

Ancient Belief

The Wicker Man follows the story of an investigation carried out by an English policeman who moves to a remote island in a Scottish archipelago. Neil Howie, the officer in charge of finding the whereabouts of a girl named Rowan, is a man attached to Christian roots, and I would say fundamentalist. During his stay, Howie is going to realize that the villagers of that island are devotees of more primitive beliefs that are linked to the ancient pre-Christian religion of the British Isles with some postmodern touches and a new age dressing.

It could be said that The Wicker Man is an essay about religions, but above all about the obsessive control they have over people. That is precisely what we observe in the people of that island as they are given body and soul to that neo-pagan culture. Greek gods used as code names, dancers jumping naked over a bonfire, chants around a maypole and above all, sex manifested in different forms, not as a basic need but as a way of life, either as a school subject or as a cultural expression in the outskirts of the village houses. None of that would make the Christian policeman happy.

Officer Howie would be the other side of the coin. A man as deeply rooted in Christian devotion as he is, he does not hesitate to condemn the ancestral practices of these islanders, and although they represent the primitivism of the paganism practiced by their ancestors, Howie represents the most hostile side of monotheism. His rigidity and religious intolerance causes him to separate himself from the villagers who respond with indifference or by hindering his investigation. The mainland policeman uses his faith and his dedication to the search for little Rowan to not give in to the customs of that island forgotten by God, which was replaced by natural elements and wicker idols.

Prophet of his island

While the stoicism and Christian conviction of the cop is to be admired, this character goes into everything a person shouldn't do to make it out alive in a story like this, mostly for making open enmity with the leader of that town. Ladies and gentlemen, here we have to welcome the legend, the man who made iconic characters we could never forget, the World War II veteran, the only one who could play Dracula, Saruman, and Count Dooku so well, while being able to sing opera like one of the best. Sir Christopher Lee.

What Mr. Lee does as the island's regent is incredible. His appearance on screen should not have lasted more than fifteen minutes and yet he shines in his entirety. Lord Summerisle is more than an antagonist, he is the avatar of the danger represented in an organized religion, curious that he being a promoter of a polytheistic paganism, embraces the same manipulation tactics that non-believers accuse the great monotheistic religions of having.

Summerisle with all the physical attributes that were typical of Christopher Lee, tall enough to stand out from the crowd, a deep voice that is impossible to ignore, a magnetism that makes him compelling as a leader and prophet. Summerisle is perhaps the best example of what one might imagine as a religious villain, but there is still an ambiguity in his early dialogue with Howie where one can discern the difference between a fanatic and an influential ruler. Either way, the effect is served, it matters little whether Summerisle believes in his primitive gods or not, what matters is that he convinces his people to believe in them, and especially in him.

Enchanting melodies and fields

Having seen the original film of The Wicker Man, I was very pleased with the great differences between this one and the unfortunate 2006 remake, because while that one made incursions into common horror places losing personality in the process, the film from the seventies was filmed in such a peculiar way that it even flirts with the musical genre. The songs, dances and Celtic folk instrumentation occupy a very important part of the narrative, increasing that pagan feeling on the island, evoking eras where stories were told with melodies that transmitted customs, events and rites that passed from generation to generation.

But don't let the songs and the holiday feel of some scenes distract you from the eventuality that is a fable like The Wicker Man. It's a very dark story, and the music in this film contributes to the air of mystery that permeates the quest of the British policeman. The musical moments act as a warning that everybody is a long way from where he might be safe, and that the island holds secrets for which the mass of humanity that inhabits it will do anything to guard, even kill.

Love goddess in human skin

There are many moments in the film where the music stood out, but I'm going to stop at that moment that left the viewers speechless, and all thanks to the hypnotic sensuality provided by the Swedish actress Britt Ekland (and some voice and body doubles) giving life to the sweet and tempting Willow, the character that generates more theories to me because she was the only inhabitant of the island who wanted to make a connection with the policeman, and with her singing and striptease scene, well, we are talking about a very intimate connection.

Officer Howie is being tested by the carnal temptation offered by Willow like Odysseus tied to the mast of his ship listening to the sirens seeking to lure him to them. The scene seems like a shameless eye candy of a post-sexual revolution era, but the beautiful blonde's attempt at seduction made me question her role in the story - was she really a tool of Summerisle's agenda, or was she seeking to save the Christian policeman from the fate the island's leader had planned for him? Be that as it may, this moment immortalized Britt Ekland as an erotic symbol of that era, cementing the fame of Nordic women as irresistible charms that stand out in entertainment.

The ultimate sacrifice

Of the film's climactic moment there is not much to say other than Christopher Lee's impeccable ceremonial work, Edward Woodward's enormous delivery to offer a master class in despair at what is happening to his character, and the imposing structure that gives its name to the title, installed there to consume lives and answer the prayers of a people committed to the deities of their ancestors.

I must say that the ending satisfied me more than the remake. Yeah, I still feel bad about tha main character but compared to the Nicolas Cage film where the moment of the wooden sculpture seemed like an ostentatious execution, in the 1973 film there is a ritualistic aura. The camera work and lighting really made it look like an offering to ancient divinities, and obviously the shot of Christopher Lee worshipping with the wind blowing his strange hairdo up left an iconic moment. But above all that here is the climax of the religious struggle between Summerisle and Howie, all paying a price for defending their faith.

The Wicker Man is a case where the old works best, giving us a stylized sample of that horror cinema that experimented and sought to offer authentic sensations. Spiritual conflicts, intrigue, bad omen, art, exoticism and sensuality define this key work in a type of cinema that brings as much viscerality and rawness as films about cults. Robin Hardy's classic teaches us why the world of rituals and beliefs is something that can be relevant even in times when electric light replaced candles and torches. There are very old traditions that refuse to disappear, some evolve with man, but a part of the human being may return to the old ways.