The Wicker Man has been terrifying, inspiring, and haunting audiences since its release 50 years ago. Now, following many decades of production difficulty, lost material and multiple cuts the intoxicating, beautiful folk horror is back on the big screen in glorious 4K for one night only.
This version of the film, coined the ‘Final Cut’, is brilliantly paced and contains material cut out in the original theatrical release. Part of the film’s conversation and legacy is the loss of original reels, which allegedly are now buried under the M3, however this version feels seamless.
Of particular note is the film’s score, with eight songs performed by the band Magnet. Chopped and scrappily edited in previous versions they are allowed to shine in this cut. ‘Willow’s Song’ in particular shows the importance of music in the creation of the creeping, uneasy atmosphere of the film. The song is shown uncut, in it’s full, seductive glory and adds a huge amount of atmosphere to the already heady and stirring scene.
The Wicker Man: Final Cut is a haunting masterpiece that brings together eerie folk music, surreal, multicolour visuals, and vibrant costuming with a simple, chilling plot that feels all too believable. The brilliant performances of Christopher Lee as Lord Summerisle and Edward Woodward as Sergeant Neil Howie, paired with the wider cast of sinister, smiling islanders, add depth and realism to the strange world of Summerisle.
One aspect that makes the film so memorable is its gorgeous, gaudy colours. The film’s most violent, grotesque moments play out in broad daylight, in lush surroundings of rolling hills, crashing waves and blossoming boughs. The debauchery and threat of the island is not hidden in shadows but is rejoiced in by the islanders, brazenly and openly explored whether it be in the phallic symbol of the maypole or the groping wildness of the couples mating in the grounds outside the inn.
The audience are as shocked by the events playing out on screen as the Sergeant is, even as they are intrigued by the erotic customs and old-god worship they are exposed to. When watching the film the viewers are placed in the same outsider lens as the detective is, strangers fed only what the islanders are willing to give, half-truths and inside jokes and unexplained symbols. The world of Summerisle feels extremely realistic and there is a sense of rich history, culture, and customs which are impenetrable for those not born and raised in the sealed bubble of the community.
This feeling of disorientation makes the film’s climax all the more devastating and shocking. There is a strange duality with the ending, the inevitability as the Sergeant is led to the Wicker Man paired with absolute disbelief that this fate cannot be avoided.
One of the most impressive aspects of the film is its dramatic irony which leads to rewatchings being even more fruitful than the initial shock and horror of a first viewing. This is a film made to be returned to. From the visuals of canned fruit and empty crates littering the isle, to the motif of Punch, ‘the fool’, to the islander’s calm certainty of their beliefs, on a second viewing the audience can see the threads of the Sergeant’s fate being woven together and immerse themselves fully in the trickery and plotting world of Summerisle.
The Wicker Man is a classic, not just as a horror film, but as a piece of cinema. From its unique soundtrack of folk songs to the vivid, enclosed world it creates which traps the viewer in, it is an erotic, terrifying, and visually stunning masterpiece.
Screened at cinemas to mark the 50th anniversary of its original release.