Robin Hardy
The Wicker Man

On board a seaplane, Sergeant Neil Howie travels to the secluded and small island of Summerisle, in the Scottish Hebrides archipelago, searching for the young teenager Rowan Morrison, whose parents have reported her missing. A devout Christian, the police officer is extremely disturbed and nauseated by the extremely free and uninhibited nature of the islanders' customs, devoted to a form of Celtic paganism. Soon, his investigations clash with the silence and reticence of the islanders and the ambiguity of their leader, Lord Summerisle. Meanwhile, the great pagan festival of May Day is approaching…

When in the early Seventies, the manors, haunted castles, and strange creatures of English Hammer films started to interest the public less in favor of new productions with a more realistic cut, made in the United States (The Exorcist by William Friedkin and Rosemary’s Baby by Roman Polański, to name a couple), Robin Hardy, a director already very active in advertising and television, especially with documentaries, directed The Wicker Man, his first feature film for the cinema, with a screenplay by Antony Shaffer, adapting the 1967 novel Ritual, by David Pinner. Shaffer, eager to venture into horror, is a talented playwright who had already authored two films, Frenzy (1972) directed by Alfred Hitchcock and Sleuth (1972) by Joseph L. Mankiewicz, with Laurence Olivier and Michael Caine, which was itself a successful theater play brought to the screen. The production and distribution company British Lion Films agreed to fund the film with a budget of about 460,000 pounds, which was so tight that Christopher Lee (who, besides being passionate about the occult, believed strongly in the project) agreed to play the role of Lord Summerisle for free. Even though he had already played a similar (but less important) role in the terrifying film The City of the Dead (1960) by John Llewellyn Moxey, the role of Lord Summerisle marked a turning point in Christopher Lee's career as he wished to break away from the “vampire curse” that had'dished out to'“victimize” the great Bela Lugosi, crushed by his immense Count Dracula.

The cast also includes Polish actress Ingrid Pitt (originally named Ingoushka Petrov), who became famous for her roles as a vampire in several Hammer films and future Bond Girl Britt Ekland (The Man with the Golden Gun, 1974, where she also starred with Christopher Lee), whose nude scenes caused the film to be censored (it was never officially released in Italy), and greatly annoyed Rod Stewart, the Swedish actress's then-boyfriend, to the point of attempting (it's rumored) to buy all copies of the film to prevent its viewing. For the role of police Sergeant Neil Howie, the production considered David Hemmings and Michael York, but after both declined, they decided to cast Edward Woodward, known for his leading role in the series Callan (1967-1972), where he played a government-hired assassin, which earned him the Best Actor award at the British Academy Television Awards in 1970. Woodward would later star in the TV series The Equalizer (1985-1989), known in Italy as Un giustiziere a New York. Initially, another veteran of the horror genre, Peter Cushing, a Hammer star like Lee, was considered, but he was already committed to other productions.
Thus, after all the necessary preparations, with complete freedom and six weeks to shoot, filming began in October in Scotland, which caused more than one problem since the story takes place at the end of the milder month of April. Edward Woodward lost a toe due to the cold.
When EMI bought British Lion Films, not believing the film could be successful, it decided to cut 11 minutes from the final edit and subsequently distributed it quietly in the United States. In England, however, it was presented alongside another film considered a failure in the making, Don't Look Now (1973) by Nicolas Roeg (who would soon direct another classic, The Man Who Fell to Earth, with David Bowie). It's curious to note how both films in which the major didn't believe became true cult classics in genre cinema.

In the late Sixties, with the arrival of the hippy movement promoting an alternative lifestyle in complete harmony with nature, the folklore linked to Celtic rites enjoyed a new spring, favoring the resurgence of Druidism which, for much of the last century, intrigued many communities emerging on the islands off England. In The Wicker Man, Hardy showcases thorough research on this culture, providing an impressive sense of coherence. The fact that the film was shot on an island, in contact with Scottish nature and its magnificent landscapes (despite all the problems it generated for the cast and crew, due to unfavorable weather and temperatures), gives even more strength to the overall success of the film, further setting it apart from most British genre productions of the time, which were generally set in gloomy manors or primarily in confined and studio-reconstructed locations.

Setting aside all the demonic and vampiric iconography that contributed to the fortune of Hammer's Gothic horror cinema, to propose something new and different, the film stages the contrast between Christianity and Druidic paganism and its Celtic symbols, drawing from occult mythology. Simultaneously, Shaffer inserts elements of mystery and deception into his screenplay, congenially. The Wicker Man travels on tracks opposite to those typical of the horror imagery of the time. Hardy shows island life almost always during daylight hours, the islanders (played by locals) are a bit "exuberant" for the sergeant's conservative ideas but appear cheerful and good-natured, just like Lord Summerisle/Christopher Lee himself, who isn't a dark lord (of evil) but a cordial and cheerful aristocrat, with a crazy hairstyle (that is indeed really scary…). Without succumbing to the temptation of bloody and violent moments, the film rather builds a long anticipation that doesn't directly resort to the supernatural, suggesting that beneath the bucolic surface lies something much greater and more dangerous.

“We don't use the word death here. We believe that when a life ends, the soul returns to the trees, the air, the fire, the water, and the animals.”

It's fair to say that The Wicker Man follows in the footsteps of two British horror classics: Night of the Demon (1957) by Jacques Tourneur and The Devil Rides Out (1968) by Terence Fisher, unreleased in Italy.
If in Tourneur's film it is the rationality of a scientist (played by Dana Andrews) that must combat a terrible curse by a devil-worshiper (actor Niall MacGinnis), in Fisher's film, it is the Duke of Richleau Christopher Lee who, as a skillful occultist, extensively uses white magic to defeat an evil warlock (Charles Gray) and free two young women under his sinister influence. In both films, pagan cults are confronted based on a “simple” dual conflict between good and evil without any exception for what each is.

Hardy and Shaffer's film, however, uses an innovative approach, showing a community where paganism has been reintroduced to reconvert the community's economy to cultivating and exploiting the land and its fruits, giving it new vitality. The islanders' rites are based on the celebration of life, death doesn't exist as it's considered part of the natural cycle of existence, and procreation is revered and adored by the entire community, in contrast to a religion where human nature is seen as depraved and immoral, and sexual education is equated with the vilest moral corruption of youth. Let's remember it's a 1972 film, though, in some ways and some realities, it doesn't stray much from today's reality.
The Wicker Man doesn't present evil as the antagonist to good but uses paganism, beyond its symbolic force in the common imagination and as a narrative drive, to challenge Christianity by showing its many common points, fundamentally fueled by the same themes as two sides of the same coin.

A particular aspect of Robin Hardy's film is that the conspirators appear, at least superficially, more likable and pleasant than the protagonist, Sergeant Howie, who, as a good moralist conservative, disapproves of nothing about that community and doesn't hide his disdain for it. Mixing genres (tying horror to the mystery of the missing girl), the film exemplifies a new point of view on horror cinema, replacing monstrous beings and demonic creatures typical of past genre productions with horror tied to very human situations. A new approach to horror films began in the '60s when conspiracies and cults were all the rage, and Roman Polanski started this transformation with his apartment trilogy: Repulsion (1965), Rosemary’s Baby — Nastro rosso a New York (1968), and The Tenant (Le Locataire, 1976 — I discuss it here). A character arrives in an apparently ordinary environment and gradually, every semblance of normality starts declining, and it gradually becomes clear that everyone is part of a terrible intrigue against the protagonist.

“Have a seat, Sergeant. Shocks are absorbed much better with knees bent.”

But The Wicker Man is not only a new type of horror; it is also an extraordinary musical, pacing the plot with folk songs arranged or composed for the occasion by American musician Paul Giovanni and performed with the group Magnet. Many essential moments of the film are accompanied by songs and sometimes choreographies performed by cast members, such as the dance where Britt Ekland tempts the police sergeant Howie while naked. This choice intensifies the atmosphere of illusory innocence that pervades the film and emphasizes a jovial and naturalist paganism. The musical pieces, which aren't gratuitous but perfectly integrated with the plot's development, highlight the traditional and pagan aspect of the island, especially given that in Celtic tradition, where the transfer of traditions was oral rather than written, the songs further emphasize this dimension.

An absolute classic of the genre, The Wicker Man was ranked 45th among the most frightening films of all time and sixth among the most important British films. Its significance is such that in 2012, some scenes from the film were included in a promotional video for the Olympics.
In 2006, Neil LaBute directed The Wicker Man, a remake of Hardy's film with Nicolas Cage, Ellen Burstyn, and Leelee Sobieski, which suffers from a general dilution of anything that could be politically incorrect and daring, reducing the film to an empty shell devoid of its deeper meaning and substance. The Wicker Man can be considered a prototype of the more “elevated” horror, as defined today, referencing films by directors like Jordan Peele (Get Out, 2017, and Us, 2019), Ari Aster (Hereditary — Le radici del male, 2018, and Midsommar — Il villaggio dei dannati, 2019), Robert Egger (The Witch, 2015, and The Lighthouse, 2019), and other new authors who attempt to transcend the boundaries of more traditional genre films. While the psyche is the most recurring theme in recent horror productions, religions and cults in genre cinema are almost always present, notably in the seventies.