I have seen Wicker twice, and I’m already eager for a third. I have been feral for this movie for months now, with no signs of it abating anytime soon. Still not enough to convince you? Fine, let’s talk about this glorious movie.
The first time we see the Fisherwoman (Olivia Colman), it is her distorted reflection in a bucket of water she uses to wash off the fish she’s just gutted. She studiously avoids looking at herself. She is a woman so beaten down by societal pressure and gender norms that she cannot even bear to look at herself. For the people in the Fisherwoman’s village, the ideal woman is conventionally attractive, married, and with a passel of kids. The village women have long hair, clear skin, nice clothes, and if they work it’s as an extra pair of hands in their husband’s business. The Fisherwoman has none of those traits and provides for herself. She turns down the only marriage proposal offered to her, from a disgusting man whose only skill seems to be getting drunk.
Out of profound loneliness, she treks up to the cottage of the reclusive Basket Weaver (Peter Dinklage) deep in the woods and pays him to make her a husband. Why him? Because of his uncanny abilities. Or as he describes it, “Mother Nature provides. I merely augment.” A month later, the Wicker Husband (Alexander Skarsgård) turns up at the church in a freshly borrowed suit and shoes. Despite the odds, the Fisherwoman and the Wicker Husband wed, and the villagers gradually begin to lose their goddamn minds over it.
On the surface, the Tailor’s Wife, formerly the Doctor’s Daughter (Elizabeth Debicki) is the epitome of a good woman, and the surface is the only part of his woman the Tailor (Nabhaan Rizwan) is interested in. Beneath that thin, fragile veneer is a petty, miserable woman whose only pleasure in life is tormenting others, especially the Fisherwoman. Her sister (Marli Siu), the newly-collared wife of the Bottlewasher (Gustav Lindh), strives to be a dutiful tradwife and encounters harsh reality instead. The Bakerman (Ben Ashenden) and the Bakerwoman (Ella Bruccoleri) and the Innkeeper (Kiell Smith-Bynoe) and the Innkeeper’s Wife (Emily Lloyd-Saini) are trapped in rudderless, meaningless marriages. The arrival of a wicker man is startling enough; a husband that genuinely loves his wife makes every other village marriage wilt in comparison.
Wicker is an incisive satire. The story skewers the patriarchy and its participants: the obviously toxic men who delight in weaponizing it, the Nice Guys™ who may not cause harm themselves but who also don’t stop those who do, and the women who act as enforcers of their own oppression, both for their own benefit and as a way to feel power over those below them. The women villagers are victims of the system, but they are also active participants in it. They have just as much of an opportunity to reject or resist the system and again and again choose not to. Even when it hurts themselves. Even when it hurts others. Even when it hurts children.
Speaking as someone who reads a preposterous amount of romance fiction, I was pleased to discover that Wicker is also a solid romantic comedy. It follows the general beats of a typical romance novel, and, intentionally or unintentionally, leans into several common tropes. Much has been made about its sex scenes, but as with the kerfuffle around Heated Rivalry, they’re actually fairly tame (especially if you are familiar with high heat romance), happen far less often than the commentary would indicate, and the actors are tastefully arranged so nothing untoward is revealed. The content mill is churning out tongue-in-cheek reviews laden with porn-y puns and articles about the potential challenges with, to put it bluntly, fucking a wicker dick. But again, just like with Heated Rivalry, what really makes the sex scenes in Wicker scandalous is… the people having it are enjoying themselves and enjoying making their partner happy. Two people taking and giving pleasure equally is shocking, I know. A lot of the over-the-top reactions to this movie have me asking a question that queer people often have: are the cishets okay?
Colman gives the Fisherwoman profound depth and heart. She cannot remember what it is to trust, and is too afraid to try. The Wicker Husband is everything she has ever dreamed of, and sometimes achieving our dreams can be so terrifying we end up sabotaging ourselves. I loved how Colman leaned into being middle aged. No trying to get blocking that makes her look younger, no tucking or nipping to smooth out wrinkles. Her costume makes her look dowdy and unkempt, and Colman never plays into it like a stereotype of the frumpy spinster. Skarsgård also dove headfirst into his role. He wore that wicker suit—full credit to Weta Workshop for their intricate, sexy work—so well I often forgot he was in it. He tends to pick roles that cater to his Weird Guy vibes, and this was right up his alley. He and Colman have great chemistry together, on and off stage. (I can’t help but wonder how different the film would have been if Dev Patel hadn’t dropped out.)
Dinklage was effervescent in his role. If the villagers behaved as if they were from one of Geoffrey Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales, he felt like a character torn from a Shakespearean comedy. He has these wonderful little monologues that are both nuanced and campy. Debicki played the Tailor’s Wife like she was perpetually on the verge of a nervous breakdown that would lead to a multi-state killing spree. She’s perfect in her awfulness. The rest of the cast was just as stellar.
I can’t say enough about the crew. Directors Alex Huston Fischer and Eleanor Wilson treated the unhinged premise with respect, and balanced the off-kilter humor, the dark undercurrents, and the lusty romance of their script. The costuming, production design, and set design was phenomenal. They blended a wild mix of styles from eras all over the world so the village feels a bit out of time. Lol Crawley’s cinematography, when joined with Sofi Marshall’s editing, Anna Meredith’s score, and all the talented folks in sound design, brought the whole thing home. Full honors to the intimacy coordination team for their staging of the sex scenes. Wicker opened at number one in the box office, bringing in $150 million domestically and $226 million globally, so it’s clear their efforts paid off. The people yearn for original movies made by a cast and crew who care about doing the best work possible in inclusive work environments.
