Awww, poor Sergeant Howie. If you’d just shagged Willow, you wouldn’t be meeting such a horrible demise…
I recently rewatched The Wicker Man, as it’s now the same age as me. What struck me upon watching it again is that it’s kinda a musical – albeit one with sex, Paganism and (spoiler) ritual murder. The bawdy songs and smiling Highlanders only serve to reinforce the absolute horror at its sun-dappled heart.
For the uninitiated, Sergeant Neil Howie (Edward Woodward) a god-fearing policeman, arrives at the picturesque island of Summerisle, a hermetically- sealed place full of Pagan worship, to investigate the disappearance of a young girl, Rowan Morrison. Except, she’s not missing. What he finds instead is licentious behaviour; horny inhabitants, and children being taught about maypoles, hares and mating rituals instead of “the father, son and holy spirit” It’s enough to make you fair spit out your tea.
.
The contrast between his prudishness and the relaxed island -dwelling folk, with their lusty and eccentric rituals, is played for laughs, until the story takes a sinister turn, then another. It seems that the good man has been set up..
There are several flaws in this film. Firstly, why are none of the leads Scottish? Not one. Even Britt Ekland as love interest/ temptress Willow had to mime all her dialogue, as a Highland accent was beyond her. Woodward isn’t bad, but only the extras have local accents.
Secondly – yup, I’m going there. It’s very male gaze-y. All the women are naked or sexualised… Even the kids dancing around the fire in a fertility ritual. Mind you, this was par for the course in the early seventies. Even the Steptoe and Son film spin-off had the hapless lad fall in love with a stripper. Seemed that tits were everywhere in the seventies – from the Carry On franchise to Page 3. Britt Ekland’s famous attempted seduction scene was half-filmed using a slightly heavier body double as Ekland refused to do a full nude scene. Apparently, she was furious that she’d been replaced by a larger derriere. It actually looks quite silly.
Another gripe is some of the toe-curling folk music. It’s a but naff. Magnet, led by musician Paul Giovanni, created the soundtrack, but some of it is a bit Celtic Connections, if you know what I mean. Hey nonny, no ta.
In spite of my wee quibbles, it’s still a tense, creepy film. The heightened sense of dread is nicely paced. It’s atmospheric and unsettling. Woodward makes for a strangely sympathetic lead, and horror stars Christopher Lee and Ingrid Pitt are excellent foils as Howie’s unnerving adversaries. I love Lindsay Kemp as the landlord. And the rural idyll, where terror lies, is an effective tool for the template of what became the “pastoral horror” genre. It’s influenced so much in the last fifty years since.
Hit The North 