First off, a big shout-out to Black Bear for actually giving me an accessible screener. I have reviewed so many films that have audio description, but the advance screeners I receive don’t include it. To actually be able to hear the audio description track, not have to play a guessing game, and be able to appreciate the totality of a project is remarkable and wonderful, and I love it. I love you, Black Bear. Keep doing what you’re doing. I know they’re still a relatively fledgling studio trying to break through, picking up films here and there that might register with audiences, critics, or even on the fringes of awards season. Last year, they really had a shot with Christy, which unfortunately never materialized into much of anything despite stunning performances from Sydney Sweeney, Ben Foster, and Merritt Wever. This weekend, they’re releasing Wicker, a romantasy, which I guess is a thing now. Not quite a romantic comedy or romantic drama, but a romantic fantasy. I blame Outlander. This one stars Olivia Colman as the Fisherwoman and Alexander Skarsgård as the Wicker Man. No, not that Wicker Man. Not the one with the bees. So don’t worry, if you have a fear of bees, this is a very different story. Also along for the ride are Peter Dinklage as the Basket Weaver and Elizabeth Debicki as the Tailor’s Wife. And no, I didn’t just forget all these characters’ names. They don’t have any. That’s one of the quirks of this film. Everybody is named after what they are or what they do. And for the women, they’re referred to almost as property, because they don’t have their own individuality. They’re the Butcher’s Wife, the Tailor’s Wife, the Innkeeper’s Wife, the Bottle Washer’s Wife, and so on.
Wicker has quite a lot to say about relationships, the dynamics of them, and the idea that women are simply wives, left to settle for being subservient to their husbands. In a community where that tradition has held up for generations, it’s hard to imagine that anybody would want anything different. But the film focuses on the Fisherwoman, who has never been able to find her romantic counterpart. After exhausting herself watching couple after couple get married, she seeks out another lonely figure in the Basket Weaver and asks him to weave her a husband. He does just that, somehow magically creating a wicker husband for her in the form of Alexander Skarsgård, who is actually physically present in this film. The wicker appearance is largely practical, achieved through prosthetics, with some CGI and visual effects added to help create the illusion of light passing through the gaps in his wicker body. But for the most part, Skarsgård is covered in this stuff. The next day, the Fisherwoman shows up to get married and sees her wicker husband waiting. There’s some hesitation, but this is what she asked for. So down the aisle she goes, and pretty soon she’s married to her Wicker Man. From that point forward, this oddity becomes the talk of the town, as people can’t quite figure out what to make of the wicker husband who has joined their community, what married life for these two must be like, or why he seems to be so different from the other men. There’s even some jealousy within the ranks, as the Wicker Man turns out to be a very different kind of husband from the ones these women have grown accustomed to.
The audio description here was a lot of fun, especially given the fantasy element of this particular fable and all the quirky possibilities of having a wicker person in your life. It was also interesting hearing the audio description consistently refer to people by their professions. Normally, that would bother me because I like characters to have names, except these essentially are their names. Nobody in this film has an actual name. Olivia Colman gives a solid performance as a woman who has somehow managed to carve out her own life without needing a man, yet still harbors a certain emptiness. Colman is actually quite good at playing these quirky outsider characters, and she isn’t afraid of breaking away from traditional female romantic leads or ingénue roles and getting a little weird. Alexander Skarsgård continues to build an impressive résumé of out-of-left-field roles. Following Pillion with Wicker is definitely an interesting career choice. I can’t imagine how long he had to spend in the makeup chair getting all those prosthetics applied, but there’s also a remarkable commitment to the stoicism, honesty, and kindness within the Wicker Man that makes his performance so surprising. Essentially, the Basket Weaver has created the ideal husband. Perhaps even the ideal man for anyone. I’ve heard the theory from some critics that the Basket Weaver also created the ideal husband for himself, in a role that could certainly be interpreted as somewhat queer-coded.
I love Peter Dinklage as an actor. He gets some very bizarre offers every once in a while, and this is a really interesting role because it’s one I find somewhat unfortunate that he was offered, even though he knocks it out of the park. The thing is, as a disabled film critic, I’m a little more in tune with stereotypes within films. It’s one of the reasons why, with Crystal Lake, I wished they hadn’t given Jason his bulbous head and other visible physical deformities as a child. The idea that he had to look like a monster only to eventually become one is a trope that should have died in the 1980s. Here, we have a community full of, for all intents and purposes, regular folk. And the two outsiders are the wacky Fisherwoman and the little person who happens to be exceptionally good at weaving and also has magical abilities. Therein lies the trope of someone of his stature having some connection to magic. Like that’s never happened before. Within the blind community, we’re often portrayed as having some sort of second sight, as though our blindness innately grants us the ability to speak to the dead or see the future. And with actors of a certain height, there seems to be a similar fascination with giving them magical abilities. I don’t think it was an accident that Peter Dinklage was cast in this role. I don’t imagine he was competing against a bunch of actors who were six feet tall. They likely knew exactly what they wanted when they went looking for someone like Peter. It’s also somewhat depressing because everyone else in this community is paired off, and here’s this lonely little person with no comparable mate. He seems like such a kindhearted individual in a town full of men who put literal collars on their wives. Dinklage delivers a terrific performance, but I still wish we could move beyond some of these familiar associations between disability, physical difference, and fantasy.
Elizabeth Debicki plays the Tailor’s Wife as something of the main antagonist, the person who thinks it’s ridiculous that there’s a wicker man in town. Although, arguably, most of the townsfolk could be considered antagonistic at some point. Really, the fact that our Fisherwoman is ostracized to some extent makes the town itself the villain. She ultimately commissions her Wicker Man because of the social norms that surround her, and the pressure to find a husband and settle down. But once she gets to know him, she has no regrets. There’s a bit of a third-act twist, as you might assume a film involving a man made of wood might eventually take, as well as a few other interesting developments along the way that keep the film engaging. In some ways, this is that romantasy thing people keep talking about, blending the unreal with the real, taking something with a historical context and giving it a fantastical spin. But it could also be considered a dark comedy or a satire, and in that regard, I do think it probably needed to be a little funnier than it actually is. There’s still more material to mine from the concept of having a wicker husband, and I think the filmmakers leave some opportunities on the table. But there’s still more than enough here to make this a special experience.
The sound design is fantastic, and I really enjoyed the score. You can hear all the creaking coming out of the Wicker Man as he moves around, which adds another layer to the character that I particularly appreciated. While Wicker is based on a previous work, it still feels so wholly unique that I would recommend it simply for the feeling of originality it brings to cinema. If you’re starting to feel like everything you’ve seen lately is derivative or complacent in its own mediocrity, Wicker at least strives to create a fantastical world for its characters to inhabit, allowing it to explore a quirky premise with far more heart than you might expect. Olivia Colman, Alexander Skarsgård, and Peter Dinklage all deliver warm and inviting performances, and I have to believe Black Bear has a potential Oscar contender here, at least in the technical categories for makeup and hairstyling, and perhaps even sound. Interestingly, while I can’t personally speak to the quality of the cinematography, it was also lensed by the cinematographer behind The Brutalist, so I imagine there’s plenty to appreciate visually as well.
Wicker is a cautionary tale about relationships, but not necessarily the central relationship. It’s more about the expectation of being in one, and how rushing into something simply because society tells you that you should can prevent you from fully processing the enormous decision you’re making. Sometimes waiting for the right moment, refusing to settle, and creating your own destiny can be far more rewarding than simply following the path everyone else has already taken. There’s something rather lovely about the idea that the most compassionate and understanding husband in this community is the one who isn’t even human. Wicker is a whimsical romance with an excellent cast, an unusual sense of humor, and a surprisingly big heart. It’s also one of the most original things you’ll see this year.
Fresh: 7.9/10
