Wicker: Movie Review

Cast: Olivia Colman, Alexander Skarsgård, Peter Dinklage, Elizabeth Debicki, Phil Davis, Richard E Grant
Director: Alex Huston Fischer and Eleanor Wilson

Based on Ursula Wills-Jones' short story The Wicker Husband, director Alex Fischer and Eleanor Wilson weave an odd tale about the effect a decent man can have on those around him.

It's no lie to say that Wicker has an agenda to follow, one that bears repeating, yet one that's not incredibly new - to wit, women are worth more than just marriage and happiness is to be treasured, not coveted. They're not earth-shaking views, but they are ones that bear fruit in this drily vulgar and comedic fable about a poor put-upon Fisherwoman (Colman, once again plumbing the tragic depths of misery and delight with aplomb) who's constantly mocked by her villagers as a figure of tragedy and the antithesis of what a woman should be.

Thoroughly fed up at her station, the Fisherwoman visits the local basket weaver (Dinklage, in a subtle and comedic turn) and asks him to make her a husband. Cue the arrival of the very reedy but not needy Wicker-husband, played with the same kind of robotic stiffness that Robert Llewellyn managed in years of Red Dwarf as Kryten, the put-upon robot.

But the Wicker-Man's arrival stirs up something among the village as jealousies begin to rage at how happy and satisfied the FisherWoman has become. Chiefly among childhood friend turned mean girl The Tailor's Wife (Debicki in a broad Yorkshire accent and dismissive form), who does all she can to plant the seeds of doubt in her former friend's mind.

Wicker may have a lusty edge (witness the creaking sound of Skarsgård's character as he becomes erect) and a raw comedic edge thanks to a cast of Brit-com greats, but strip away the basics and you have a tale as old as time itself (equality between men and women, sex for happiness rather than just procreation et al) woven in front of you.

While Skarsgård may be overacting under the excellent practical suit New Zealand's Weta Workshop created for the film, Colman once again deploys her patented mix of pathos and joy throughout. It's impossible not to feel for the FisherWoman and once again, Colman inhabits a role with perfection - from spot-on comedic timing to just heartbreaking moments, there's still no stopping her.

There's a lightness here that doesn't really want to explore free will, nor does it want you to probe too deeply into how the logistics of a Wicker Husband works - this is a film that seeks to remind you of the basics of life, the rewards of unconditional love and the damage jealousy does - all while having a good time and enjoying the athletic antics of what one describes in the film as "fuckable furniture".

Wicker is a curious tale, told and acted with virtuoso and while it's not as moving as perhaps you'd expect, it's definitely a case of a story being woven with plenty to think about after the lights have gone up.