All The Things I Considered After Watching ‘The Wicker Man’
Is Robin Hardy’s folk horror classic still worth watching?
The Wicker Man is a British horror film released in 1973. It is a cult classic and one of the pioneering pieces of folk horror. However, to ascribe it its due importance solely or chiefly because of this is to do it a great disservice; this is a film that has several aspects to be treasured.
This film is about a girl’s disappearance on an isolated Scottish island and the subsequent investigation. Upon arrival, Sergeant Howie discovers a society doing its own thing; practising a religion with the traditions of the Old Gods, as referred to by the island’s leader. A devout Christian, Howie is appalled and suspicion grows within him. Coupled with uncooperative locals who unconvincingly fob him off, he is determined to solve the case, his discomfort and bewilderment at their lifestyle reinforcing his self-righteous belief that he is better than them.
You could describe this film as a police procedural or a musical or a psychological thriller, though it is most often categorised as a horror film and, since the emergence of that movement, folk horror.
The Wicker Man is part of folk horror’s original trio, the others being The Witchfinder General (1968) and Blood on Satan’s Claw (1971). I was not aware of this canon until much later on. For those interested, . While it undoubtedly occupies an exalted position in this genre, I discovered The Wicker Man in a vacuum; it was just a quirky film that interested me, having recently been re-released on DVD at the time.
I grew up in the 90s, not even 100 miles away from a civil war with a clearly-defined dividing line: on one side, Irish and Catholic; on the other, British and Protestant. Growing up in the Republic, this reinforced our identity. As I grew older and lost my faith due to the inconsistencies and hypocrisy of organised religion, I searched for a new way to express and embrace my Irish identity.
The Catholic and Celtic aspects of indigenous Irish culture have long been emphasised in order to differentiate us from the Protestant and Anglo-Saxon/Norman origins of the conquering English culture. The Celtic culture was in existence long before Christianity ever reached this island. It was roundly adopted in the fifth and sixth centuries but these people were not irreligious beforehand; in fact, they were fervent believers in the Old Gods (as referred to in the film) and this devotion led to a peculiar type of Christian worship after conversion, one which embraced and adapted traditions from the pre-Christian religion, forming a unique, syncretic branch of Christianity.
Here was I, a teenager growing up in an outwardly Catholic country, whose façade was falling down, revealing its internal hollowness. I was looking to reconcile my connection with my country’s identity while rejecting a key part of the popular consciousness. Therefore, I sought to explore and embrace those Celtic aspects.
So what does The Wicker Man have to do with this? Like ourselves, Scotland’s national identity maintains strong links with its Celtic heritage. Unlike England and Wales, most of modern day Scotland was never conquered by the Romans, like Ireland. There was considerable proto-Irish influence (by way of conquest) in the west of Scotland. Certainly, there are some Irish people, myself being one, who look romantically to the north-east and see the Scots as our Celtic brethren who have also suffered at the hand of the English.
Furthermore, The Wicker Man focuses on an island which has rejected Christianity and embraced the Old Gods. At a point when I was turning my back on Christianity, it was an idea that intrigued me; rejecting a foreign imposition and reconnecting with our long-forgotten roots. I can look back now and understand this but I doubt I was so profoundly aware of this at the time.
The human relationship with nature
In the fictional history of Summerisle, Lord Summerisle’s family believe in a healthy respect for the environment, looking to work it to their advantage. However, the origin of this is suggested as a cynical manipulation by his paternalistic Victorian grandfather. Lord Summerisle’s grandfather provided the islanders with supplies and counted on their labour to bring his ideas to fruition. While sounding benevolent and wholesome, there is a subtle acknowledgement that the return to the Old Gods was a ploy to motivate the locals. There is also a later suggestion that the incumbent Lord Summerisle is playing a role while not being a complete believer. In his discourse, he reveals himself to be far too aware to be ignorant of his own hypocrisy. Nevertheless, he informs Howie that his philosophy is ‘to love nature, and to fear it, and to rely on it and to appease it, when necessary’.
The belief in reincarnation displays a deep connection with nature and necessitates considerable respect for it. The islanders believe that when your human form is no more, your essence will return as some other aspect of the natural world. This encourages and fosters a karmic respect for animals and plants, knowing that they contain the souls of previous generations and will one day contain their own.
Since the community returned to the Old Gods, the locals have all taken names inspired by trees and flowers. The corresponding flora is later planted on their namesakes’ graves, again strengthening the bond between humans and nature.
However, this harmonious relationship has begun to unravel. The harvest has failed and Summerisle, famed for its produce as a result of the original Lord Summerisle’s ingenuity, seeks to address the collapse of its livelihood. These stresses can surely be better understood now as climate change begins to affect ecology and agriculture with adverse weather events. The islanders’ desperation causes them to double down on their reverence of nature and the Old Gods, going to greater extremes to restore prosperity. At the time of writing in April 2025, this is an interesting point to consider.
Perhaps this film’s most unique aspect is it’s bespoke soundtrack. It can faithfully be described as a horror musical: This isn’t just a collection of carefully-chosen songs; many of those included were written and produced by Paul Giovanni and Magnet specifically for the film. Others were crafted from existing songs, drawing on the tradition of Robert Burns and Middle Age folk songs. While some incidental music is provided, most of the songs tie directly into the story, providing the viewer with additional background and exposition. In other instances, the songs are specifically used to advance the story.
The music itself flirts with various styles, never quite settling on one. There are elements of the prog rock of Genesis or Os Mutantes, the 60s folk of Simon and Garfunkel, rowdy, sing-a-long folk tunes and traditional jigs and reels.
It includes suggestive and bawdy lyrics, not unlike contemporary musicals The Rocky Horror Picture Show or Phantom of the Paradise, with songs like The Landlord’s Daughter and The Tinker of Rye. Other songs address the story in a more serious manner, with songs like Gently Johnny and Willow’s Song being delicately seductive while Maypole and Fire Leap explain the film’s lore, doing so in an entertaining manner that breaks from clunky conversations between main characters.
The film’s music is not merely an accompaniment; it is a key part of the story, with several songs being tied to some of the film’s most memorable moments: The Landlord’s Daughter scene, the Maypole song, Willow’s attempt to seduce Sergeant Howie and the final scene as the locals enthusiastically serenade the condemned Howie with the celebratory Summer is Icumen In.
The titular character is not mentioned until the final ten minutes, though its essence is mentioned earlier in passing. It is only in the climatic scene that The Wicker Man is revealed to the viewer; a giant human statue constructed from wicker, its arms stuffed with animals for sacrifice and a space in the belly for Howie.
Most cover art or posters for the film include an illustration or picture of it but where they don’t, this must surely provoke an anxious curiosity in the viewer. It is a masterful technique by the director; avoiding even the mention of the film’s bogeyman until the penultimate scene, and unveiling it in the climax, as if it were a final boss. And yet, from the beginning, the viewer knows it is something essential to the story; why else would it be in the title? The Wicker Man is revealed as the pinnacle of sacrifice for the community.
The locals’ sexual freedom, their frank celebration of it through song and its open display are in direct contrast to Howie’s prudish disgust at such behaviour and avoidance of pre-marital sex, despite his very obvious temptation during the frenzied rendition of Willow’s Song. These people are living their lives and engaging with their bodies while Howie denies his own because of arbitrary doctrine.
All things sexual are addressed directly and straightforward by the locals, an open acknowledgement of its natural origin and biological importance, as well as being a source of enjoyment. There is no shame here; much unlike Christianity. Whether it is boys dancing around a bare, branchless tree while their teacher details their religion’s equivalent of the birds and the bees or couples shagging under the moonlight in the village green, sex is omnipresent.
This may be seen as commentary on contemporary reactions to the Sexual Revolution of the 1960s. In this case, the juxtaposition of old attitudes versus new one is flipped on its head; here, the Old Gods openly embrace sexuality whereas the ‘modern’ Christianity shuns it.
As the film reaches its climax, Howie begs God to provide him with sanctuary, yet his determination seems to falter as the flames surround him. Faced with his immediate death, he must surely be left wondering what he has missed out on, especially as his last days gave him a peek into the world he had denied himself.
The age-old question of what happens to our essence once we perish is presented with two responses: reincarnation by the Old Gods and resurrection by the Christians. While disagreeing on points of worship and its results, both sides are seeking a satisfactory answer to their doubts; both want something that offers them the hope that their being lives on once their human form is no more. There is no hesitancy regarding this matter: both sides persist with their displays and declaration of belief in order to appease their respective deities. Both even grow more desperate and reckless as the importance of the expected results becomes clearer.
Here, the film shows that all religion has a commonality; an answer to existential doubts, a soothing reassurance that all that happens in this life is for a reason and that we will have something else to look forward to when it’s over. It doesn’t provide an answer for those of us who do not have such faith.
While understood as a devout Christian, Howie questions the customs of the natives with a sneering disbelief. For those of us who question organised religion, it is possible to understand Howie’s scepticism, with many of us often directing those same questions at Christianity itself.
As he grows desperate, Howie openly challenges the locals with scientific logic and reason, again offering the same arguments that many sceptics would use against his own faith, most notably when he realises that their fervent devotion will see them take his life.
When seen through the context of established religions, it seems natural and sensible to question all these odd traditions. Yet, this film holds a mirror up to the protagonist’s inconsistencies: Christians can use logic and reason to dismiss the oddities of the Old Gods, yet they seem impervious to such arguments when used to question their own beliefs.
An important question that emerges is ‘What is religion?’. In the world of all-conquering Christianity, pre-existing religious traditions are dismissed. I dislike the use of the word ‘pagan’ to describe these traditions, given its derogatory and dismissive nature towards non-Christian religions. Similarly, ‘heathen’ is a problematic term; it suggests that the person in question has no religion or faith. It is not true; they simply have a different religion. A refusal to bow to Christian exceptionalism does not make them irreligious.
Sergeant Howie is the embodiment of Christian righteousness and could be seen to represent missionaries sent to convert the natives, going so far as to form a makeshift cross from discarded pieces of wood.
When Howie first meets Lord Summerisle, the latter openly challenges the arrogant supremacy of Howie’s beliefs. Howie decries what he sees as the fake biology and fake religion of the Old Gods and asks ‘Have these children never heard of Jesus?’. Lord Summerisle’s measured response is the following: ‘Himself the son of a virgin impregnated, I believe, by a ghost’. Lord Summerisle then explains the religious instruction on the island in the way of the Old Gods and Howie asks what of the ‘true’ God. Lord Summerisle now caustically replies: ‘He’s dead. He can’t complain. He had his chance and, in modern parlance, blew it.’
Earlier in the film, Lord Summerisle reveals more of his own thoughts regarding religion. As he watches two snails copulate, he performs a soliloquy within Howie’s earshot, reciting an abridged version of Walt Whitman’s Song of Myself:
I think I could turn and live with animals, they are so placid and self-contained,
They do not lie awake in the dark and weep for their sins,
For they do not make me sick discussing their duty to God,
Not one of them kneels to another, or to his own kind that lived thousands of years ago,
Not one of them is respectable or unhappy, all over the Earth.
In tumultuous times, it is understandable that we look for other sources of inspiration and comfort when our trusted ones fail us. It can be argued that, in a post-religious world, the motivation to behave morally and acceptably and to suffer quietly is no longer enough for most people. Accordingly, they seek to make the most out of their lives, while not counting on the promised rewards in an ethereal afterlife.
Perhaps, therein lies the appeal of the Old Gods; there is a similarity between reincarnation and resurrection, though reincarnation may see its believers live again in another form, something more certain than resurrection. Thus, its believers may seek to make the most of the human experience as there is no guarantee of what their next existence may consist of.
King for a day, fool for a lifetime
Sergeant Howie approaches the case with a swaggering self-righteousness and sneering suspicion of the islanders. As he goes about his investigation, it is obvious that they are hiding something. The locals are terrible actors within the film’s world. As we only see scenes where Howie is present, the viewer is only as informed as the policeman at any given moment. We see Howie piece the puzzle together, unravelling a sloppily covered-up kidnapping committed in order to appease the gods and performed by the clueless locals who naïvely think they can outwit Howie. It seems like he’s cracked it when he finally comes across Rowan and rescues her, only for her to be the missing piece in the island’s very own puzzle to fool him. What seemed like a poorly executed and shoddily concealed abduction now reveals itself to be a far greater conspiracy, with the real target being Howie all along.
What is more, several times during the film, Howie is warned and advised not to pursue the matter, only causing him to do so with more fervour. He is reminded of this when the plot is revealed by Lord Summerisle: ‘Welcome, fool. You have come of your own free will to the appointed place. The game’s over.’
Several residents warn him of his certain disgust should he observe the island’s May Day celebrations, but he is too full of himself. Additionally, had he accepted Willow’s invitation, he would no longer have fulfilled the required profile and, thus, by giving into Earthly delights, he would have saved his own life. Instead, his dogged dedication to his religion helps seal his fate. It is his own hubris that sees him locked inside the Wicker Man, perhaps a lesson in humility and pragmatism learned too late.
Reasons to watch The Wicker Man
One of the original folk horror films? Yes. Are there other reasons? Certainly. There is so much going on in terms of social commentary with this film, addressing topics such as man’s relationship with nature, the complexities of religion, the struggle between modernity and the desire to preserve traditions. Visually and musically, it is a stunning achievement but, give it a chance, and it’ll make you think deeply about these topics.
