#14The Wicker Man(Robin Hardy, 1973)

“After all, what girl would not prefer the child of a sun god to that of some acne-scarred artisan?”

Spiritually and philosophically the very opposite of “The Devil Rides Out”, it says a lot for the diversity found within the supposedly monolithic structure of ‘The British Horror Film’ that both it and “The Wicker Man” – moralistic Christian diatribe and open-ended meditation on sexual freedom and atavistic pagan belief respectively – can be cheerfully discussed in the same breath.

(It is doubly curious that Christopher Lee, who was the main driving force in persuading Hammer to adapt “..Rides Out”, also agreed to appear in “The Wicker Man” free of charge, and has frequently talked it up as being the best film he ever acted in. I dunno - maybe he just digs movies about opposing belief systems or something?)

Anyway, after so many years of dedicated fandom, discussion, re-evaluation, praise, canonisation, restoration, re-release and lunatic comedy remake, it’s difficult to know how to go about trying to find something new to say about Robin Hardy and Anthony Shaffer’s utterly unique film.

More than any other entry on this list, “The Wicker Man”s classification as a horror film is tenuous at best. I will count it as one, because it was funded and initially released as horror, because it stars Christopher Lee and Ingrid Pitt, and because it is hard to know what else do with a film that’s basically a drama about comparative religion. Plus, the film’s overriding atmosphere of otherness and paranoia, the incorporation of recognisable witchcraft imagery, the buxom barmaids, sinister aristocrat and grizzled peasants clearly left over from a Hammer gothic - above all the constant commingling of eroticism with fear – all of these things point to a horror film.

But at the same time, there have been occasions when I have found myself arguing strongly that “The Wicker Man” is NOT a horror film (usually when trying to persuade non-horror fans to watch it and/or take it seriously). In its pronounced lack of either graphic violence or any element of the supernatural, the film’s ‘realism’ must have been a daring decision for Hardy and Shaffer, and if “The Wicker Man”s swift descent into a couple of decades of distribution purgatory was the initial result of their bravery, they can at least be proud that it is this same approach that forty-plus years later sees their film reaching a wider audience, and attracting wider critical attention, than any other British ‘horror’ film ever made. And deservedly so, perhaps. As with previous entries on this list, I’m sure I don’t have to waste time trying to summarise the myriad qualities of “The Wicker Man”. In every respect, it is a true one-off, and the very fact it exists at all, let alone in such vivid, intelligent and beautiful form, is a profound achievement for all concerned. Such is the film’s overriding atmosphere, the long history of whispered rumour and supplementary lore surrounding it, that every screening, whether at home, on TV or in the cinema, seems to take on a ritualistic quality – devotees glancing at new initiates, trying to gauge their reaction. Talk about a ‘cult film’.

These days, it’s easy to take it for granted that the film’s sympathies (and by extension, ours) lie with the islanders. Certainly I’ve never had any problem choosing between Lord Summerisle’s wholesome, open-minded approach to life and Sgt. Howie’s dogmatic, self-destructive puritanism. But I’ll never forget the time I watched the film with a friend who afterwards insisted in no uncertain terms that Howie is the hero of the film, and that the islanders are an insane, repugnant aberration. And, of course, he was right – as appealing as the easy-going lifestyle of the islanders may seem, are they not essentially still fulfilling the obligations as every gang of mad cultists in b-movie history, kidnapping a man and committing murder to appease their strange Gods, as their resources dwindle and their desperation grows…? The unswervable ambiguity of “The Wicker Man”, and the stresses it places on our implicit belief systems, could easily be seen by handing out a questionnaire to a cinema audience as the sun sets in the final shot: do you believe their harvest will return? Answer Y or N.

I love too the fact that I have seen the film in various different formats over the years – bootleg VHS, TV broadcast, cinema screening, several different DVDs – and I’m sure that I’ve never seen exactly the same film twice. “The Wicker Man” exists in so many different cuts that I never know whether the action will take place over three days or two, whether or not we’ll get to see Willow’s full dance, or Lord Summerisle reciting Walt Whitman as slugs fuck in the graveyard (a particularly rare inclusion). I’m sure on at least one occasion I’ve seen an establishing scene in which Sgt. Howie prays in a church on the mainland, but then again, maybe I imagined it. I’ve not yet watched the latest DVD copy I’ve gotten hold of, so who knows, maybe it will have some shots in it I’ve never seen before, and maybe other bits will be missing? I’m sure I could google “Wicker Man alternate versions” and sort the whole thing out for good, but y’know, I prefer the mystery. Whatever you do to this film, its central vision remains. Even after they (allegedly) burned the negatives and/or buried them somewhere under the newly constructed M3, Lord Summerisle and his people have lived on, popping up as a free gift in Sunday newspapers, being eulogised in ‘Sight & Sound’ and screened at the NFT, casting a questioning shadow across our modern way of life.

Oh, and a soundtrack loaded with hits certainly helps too! Paul Giovanni should be driving around in whatever the folky equivalent of a solid gold Cadillac is for the tunes he managed to cram into this movie.