Critical popcorn

 “Do sit down, Sergeant. Shocks are so much better absorbed with the knees bent”- Lord Summerisle

While there’s been plenty of time, I waited until this 50th Anniversary 4K restored edition of The Wicker Man to truly row my boat up to the shore of Summerisle and embed in its unfamiliar, brilliant, and disturbing world for the first ‘proper’ time. Given its cult status and formidable rank in the British film psyche, you almost feel like you’ve seen it before you actually have.

I’d witnessed numerous clips and conversations but taking the journey itself is definitely an experience, and one I unexpectedly enjoyed. It’s sharp, bizarre, a little ridiculous (even as some film critics admit on the featurettes) but… it doesn’t seem to matter. Anthony Shaffer and Robin Hardy’s folk horror (as it became known) is about the characters and the trippy ‘feeling’ and you can sense every ounce of influence on films worldwide today.

The Wicker Man: The Final Cut 4K UHD (shorter than the Director’s but longer than the Theatrical) opens with a disclaimer regarding outdated beliefs that may be present but, overall, despite the obvious scenes in their admiration of women in the nude, the entire setup of The Wicker Man is so off-kilter, you’d really need to dig down deep for anything excessively offensive.

This lovely set from STUDIOCANAL features all three versions of the film on Blu-ray and 4K UHD, with that 4K restoration being the stellar work of Silver Salt Restoration UK, from the original 35mm negative with a second generation 35mm to replace a small section that had unrepairable damage, plus extra 35mm prints for additional footage – the last known sources of the missing parts of the film. Overall, this is 500-odd hours of dedicated colour grading and restoration, which was previously director approved and looks so impressive as a result.

From the opening sequence that introduces Edward Woodward’s Police Officer Neil Howie as a dedicated Churchgoer, it’s not long before we arrive with him somewhere in Scotland via his excellent small seaplane, on the extremely remote Hebridean-esque island. He’s here to investigate the disappearance of Rowan Morrison, a young girl who has vanished and Howie has been sent a letter from the island, in the hope of it being further investigated. But, you see, even on his first moments – things are peculiar. The locals that greet him won’t send him a boat to help him from his plan, as they tell him he’s not allowed there unless he’s got permission and although eventually, he gets on, the locals (played by real people) aren’t happy – and there’s almost a murmur of discontent in the wind.

These early moments set the tone for the unusual, and also a mention of Lord Summerisle (Christopher Lee), who we will come to meet in full later on. The clues of what’s ahead are also here in these early scenes, the local shop undoubtedly has weird-shaped cakes and sweets in the window, there’s a firm nod towards something to do with hares and even the family of the missing child aren’t totally convinced she’s gone anywhere, or if they even know her. Elusive characters and mysterious games are almost knowingly afoot.

I won’t go into deeper plot details with The Wicker Man, especially if you’re new to the game, but let it be said that the real roots of paganism are most definitely here. From the pub, the Green Man, with its eclectic collection of peculiar – with songs and stories – to the alcohol, a harvest festival, sex, freedom and sensuality, taboos of religion against naturism, phallic symbols, and clear indications of regrowth, this is a story of literal ground-level existence, well, to a point…

In a performance view, Edward Woodward keeps it serious and, with it, is excellence and intense – for all the right reasons. It’s his character counterbalancing and reacting to Christopher Lee’s Lord Summerisle that makes The Wicker Man so damn addictive. At the time, in their real lives, they were both in a creative place where they wanted to uniformly prove themselves and do the work justice – and you can tell. Lee was endeavouring to step away from his Hammer Horror image and while still living within the edge of horror and the macabre, this performance is defiant and memorable – as is Woodward’s.

The rest of the cast are a mass of ensemble, with Britt Ekland offering lingering looks (with the voice of Annie Ross and the singing voice of Rachel Verney), as well as Ingrid Pitt, Diane Cilento, Lesley Mackie, Lindsay Kemp, and Irene Sunter – with some bringing questionable accents, but it’s also forgivable. It’s also important to note the soundtrack from composer Paul Giovanni, working with Gary Carpenter, as you discover the film’s selection of ‘reworked’ traditional British folk songs. I also recommend Pulp’s Wickerman, if you’ve never heard it before – for reasons connected to the film.

I also liked seeing the echoes of films or TV series in the modern era, the early maypole moment felt very Wes Anderson, and being a kid growing up in Devon, I can confirm I did that once or twice. It’s impossible not to see the influence on the likes of Midsommar – although Ari Aster obviously ups the horror, plus the likes of Mike Flanagan’s Midnight Mass, the cult favourite The League of Gentlemen and even Hot Fuzz – with Woodward also starring in that one!

Overall, The Wicker Man continues to be somewhat spellbinding, a curious mix of surreal and sensationalist with equal comments on the power of suggestion and belief. It’s ridiculous but undeniably watchable, and it’s easy to see why it became not just a cult classic but an all-time example of iconic British cinema.

The Special Features are all individually interesting, with some more insightful than others. They kick off with Revisiting the locations of The Wicker Man, which takes us back to Scotland to see it today (and it’s largely unchanged given the locations and, yes, I’d like to go), plus interviews with Britt Eckland on her experience, plus comments on the casting process, the use of West Highlanders in the film and the understanding of why it became a cult film.

The 2023 extra ‘Robin Hardy’s Script – The Lost Ending’ with Tim Plester, and his thoughts on the cut monologues is one of the best though. His family not only have Hardy’s original script, but they also discuss why the director and writer either fought over the final outcome, or which monologues would be cut, and this gives you an excellent idea of how films come together, and some suggested decisions make sense once you’ve heard them.

There’s also The Wicker Man at 50 and Worshipping The Wicker Man, both of which continue to explore its popularity and also that 1970s horror influence on films that have been released recently, which connects to how times come back around. Finally, there’s a 2013 interview with Robin Hardy – where he talks about clues in plain sight, and then a 1979 interview (which takes on a serious tone of the era) with Christopher Lee and Hardy. I loved hearing from Lee at this time, he chats about Orson Welles for a while before waxing poetic on his love for script and the challenge it offered him as an actor. He also notes that he’s never seen a film like it before, and he’s not wrong in that respect.

If you’re picking up the very fine boxset, you’ll also get some Summerisle posters (for those holidays), two posters, plus a 64 Page Booklet with exclusive introduction from sons Justin and Dominic Hardy (who are also endeavouring to launch the documentary Wickermania!), alongside brand-new essays from Ritual author David Pinner, Editor of Den of Geek Rosie Fletcher, and author of the upcoming The Wicker Man book John Walsh.

The Wicker Man 50th Anniversary Collector’s Edition (Vintage Classics) is out on 25 September, order here: https://amzn.to/3Zld5XO