Film Review – Wicker

On the surface, the premise of Wicker (2026) is a bit too outlandish to be taken seriously. A middle-aged woman entering an intimate relationship with a man made entirely of wicker isn’t only bizarre but raises all sorts of questions. Much is made of their physical connection yet the thought of it sounds…painful. How does she avoid getting splinters? The film doesn’t focus so much on these issues. Rather, it’s more interested in what the relationship means and the greater social implications associated with it. The absurd setup is a means to examine broader themes, and the film does so without becoming didactic. This is a “Beauty and the Beast” kind-of-fantasy that is funnier, more romantic, and more insightful than we may be anticipating.

Olivia Colman continues to show that she is – not only an incredibly talented actor – but one of the least self-conscious performers. As she has demonstrated in previous works like The Favourite (2018), Colman is not afraid to inhabit a character free of vanity or glamour. She is more than willing to be as silly, goofy, or eccentric as a role requires, without ever turning into a caricature. She plays the “Fisherwoman” of a small medieval village. Ostracized for her fishy aroma and disregard for well established traditions (like marriage), the Fisherwoman spends much of her time on her own. Although she is firm in her beliefs, that does not preclude her from being lonely. On a whim, the Fisherwoman visits the magical Basket Weaver (Peter Dinklage, resurrecting his Tyrion Lannister accent) and asks him to weave her a husband. We gather she was being cheeky in her request, so imagine her surprise when the Weaver actually delivers a living, breathing Wicker Husband (Alexander Skarsgård).

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It takes a lot to make a human falling in love with a fantastical woven person believable. Writers/directors Alex Huston Fischer and Eleanor Wilson (adapting Ursula Wills’ short story) approach the material earnestly but aware of its farcicality. The connection between the Fisherwoman and the Wicker Husband is immediate. He treats her with kindness, listens and considers the things she says, and sees her beyond the surface. Skarsgård plays him with a soft voice but stiff body movements – which makes sense since the character is made of wood. The special effects are remarkable in rendering the Wicker Husband’s body. This isn’t just a case where we have an actor in costume. The digital effects allow for light to pass through the openings in his body just as it would with any woven item. No sooner are the two acquainted than they are in each other’s arms, with the Fisherwoman’s cries of surprise and pleasure garnering the biggest laughs. One of the funnier gags feature their shadows dancing against the wall, their incessant and loud lovemaking heard all throughout the village.

What makes Wicker fascinating is not just the primary relationship between the Fisherwoman and the Wicker Husband, but how their nuptials effects everyone else. The community is one of strict (and archaic) customs. One example is the placement of a metal collar around a bride’s neck on her wedding day (a not-so-subtle metaphor). There’s also the fact that everyone we meet do not have an individual name, everyone is called by their profession or title. This includes the Tailor (Nabhaan Rizwan), the Tailor’s Wife (Elizabeth Debicki), the Baker (Ben Ashenden), the Baker’s Wife (Ella Bruccoleri), and the town doctor (Richard E. Grant). The unconventionality of the Fisherwoman and the Wicker Husband turn life in the village upside down. The men feel threatened by the Wicker Man and the women become jealous of the joy he brings to the Fisherwoman. It’s your classic mob mentality reminiscent of Frankenstein (1931), where people fear what they don’t understand.

Of those that bristle at the Fisherwoman and Wicker Husband, the Tailor’s Wife stands out as the primary villain. Elizabeth Debicki gives the character a sly passive aggression, where her quick backhanded comments slice up adversaries like a hot knife through butter. The Tailor’s Wife’s resentment stems from the disappointments in her own home. To her, if she can’t be happy, no one else can be either. She targets the Fisherwoman with lies, rumors, and gossip, instilling doubt over whether the Fisherwoman deserves to be happy and whether the Wicker Husband is as loyal a spouse as he appears to be. She disguises all this under the ruse of wanting to help, but her true motivations are the complete opposite. Where Olivia Colman has the bigger, more volatile performance (especially in the back half), Debicki’s is restrained but no less effective. The two are on opposite ends of the social hierarchy, where one represents open-mindedness and free love and the other can’t stand someone else feeling the happiness she cannot.

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The writing and direction construct Wicker as a tongue-in-cheek fairytale. There is a level of heightened realism, where buildings, homes, and forests have an otherworldliness to them. When the existence of the Wicker Husband is widely known, the villagers don’t react with shock or terror, but more reluctant curiosity to near annoyance. The timeline is divided with chapter headings, as though we were experiencing this the same way a child would reading a bedtime story. When the Basket Weaver is tasked to make his latest creation, he goes on a long monologue in which he – speaking out loud – questions the ethics of such an endeavor. Is it right to create a living wicker man? Would the benefits outweigh the risk? These moments of reflection have an obvious theatrical touch but is a good way of laying out the stakes clearly. Peter Dinklage does not have much screentime, but during these sequences he really leans into the character’s moral quandary. 

Wicker is not without its issues. The ending in particular is a little too neat and tidy. All the loose ends are tied up and the fates of everyone involved are resolved without much fuss. While I understand what the film was going for – in the way it tries to expose the hypocrisy of the village – it all plays out conveniently. But that minor gripe isn’t enough to undercut the entire production. I enjoyed how this embraced the battiness of its premise yet still had room to discuss real legitimate topics. The cast knew what kind of movie they were in and embraced it with their performances. It’s difficult to make something that will make people laugh, it’s even harder to make something that will make them laugh and think at the same time. Wicker does just that.

B+

FINAL GRADE: B+

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Allen is a moviegoer based out of Seattle, Washington. His hobbies include dancing, playing the guitar, and, of course, watching movies.

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