Poor The Wicker Man. Few films have probably ever been more the victim of its own success.

On one hand, there is no other film more associated with the folk horror than Robin Hardy’s The Wicker Man. It a genre-defining film that has a secure place in the horror canon.

On the other, its image has been tarnished over the years, by no fault of its own, from an infamous 2006 remake and a climax so ingrained in pop-culture that the film risks getting passed over by contemporary horror fans simply because they already know the ending.

It also does not help that The Wicker Man has been recut so many times that gives off an impression that the versions found on streaming services are somehow incomplete or inferior. In fact, different versions of The Wicker Man range in run-time between the original 87 minute theatrical cut and the director’s 100 minute extended cut- though most of the additional footage comes in form of a prologue of debateable contribution. The version I saw was 93 minutes and I thought the film felt complete. Since then, I have read about the seven minutes of footage I missed and believe me when I say that I’m in no hurry to seek them out.  

If you haven’t seen the original Wicker Man but think you already know what your missing…think again. For example, did you know that there are enough songs in The Wicker Man to make a Disney animated film jealous. No exaggeration! (If you don’t believe me, click on this little ditty called “The Landlord’s Daughter”.)  In fact, I almost listed musical as one of the genres.

Then there is all that unabashed nudity…but in hindsight that could had expected that from an R-rated film made in the seventies.   

So, if you have not seen The Wicker Man, and somehow have miraculously avoided hearing about its ending- then stop reading. I don’t know how you managed it, but the less you know about this horror classic, the better.

The Wicker Man’s plot is propelled forward by a missing person’s investigation. Sergeant Neil Howie (Edward Woodward), a devote church-going Christian, travels to the island of Summerisle after receiving an anonymous letter tipping him off to weird happenings which include the disappearance of a girl named Rowan Morrison. The Island is so remote that Rowan must travel by seaplane, and when he gets there, he finds that nobody remembers a girl named Rowan, including her mother, and many have no fear of mocking his badge.

And they hold orgies on the grass outside the hotel.

A lot of The Wicker Man‘s enduring strength comes from Woodward depiction of Sergeant Howie, the ridged Christian-centric policeman. Admittedly, Sergeant Howie is a particularly complicated character and that Woodward’s performance is- rightfully- not layered. But Woodward still sells us on the character. (It seems like a small thing, but remember Nicolas Cage couldn’t do it.) Sergeant Howie moves about the town with such a stand-offish conviction and misplaced authority that it should be hard to feel sorry for him, yet we do because Woodward makes his hubris so well defined. Howie’s badge has no significance the moment he sets foot on the island, yet he refuses to accept this fact. And truthfully, even if The Wicker Man‘s ending was spoiled in advance, it is alright because Howie’s fate should not had a surprise anyways. This film can only end one way.

In many ways, The Wicker Man feels a bit like an inversion of a Polansky film. In films like Repulsion or The Tenant it becomes increasingly clear the protagonist is not entirely sane. In The Wicker Man, the insanity flows through the environment and situation more than it does in the people themselves. Hardy’s decision to leave judgement of Sergeant Howie and the townspeople in the hands of the viewer gives the film a kind of amoral tone, and this- more than anything- is what I gives the The Wicker Man its lasting appeal. (Ari Aster would successfully tap into this tone in his The Wicker Man-inspired film, Midsommar.)

Gore fans might be sad to learn that The Wicker Man is about as gory a film as The Love Witch, meaning it is not gory at all. The R rating…also like The Love Witch…seems to be more about the fact that people in this film just don’t like clothes. But that’s not to say that Hardy’s film is devoid of terror, its just that much of it is implied. The Wicker Man is more about its off-beat atmosphere that screams something is not right, but it takes a better detective than Howie to figure it out.

Robin Hardy also deserves credit for the painstaking research on pagan songs and rituals he conducted before filming- the staple trait of a good folk horror. The community of Summerisle feels like a real town. And fans of British horror will appreciate the addition of Christopher Lee as the town’s lord. Lee’s role relegates him more to the film’s margins, but the scenes he is in are all elevated by his presence.

In fact, my only real criticism of The Wicker Man comes from that awful, though short, cave chase montage and the dated music that accompanies it. If anything, all those additional versions of the film should had taken time to fix this scene.

But hey, at least Hardy’s version does not have bees. “Oh no! Not the bees!”