Happy birthday
shadowfax!!
It's almost Halloween--wee! I had a nice choice of horror movies on TV last night, all of which I already owned, and decided to go with IFC's showing of The Wicker Man. I was hoping to get the longer version, which legend has it is better, but I got the version I've already seen. Not that this is a bad thing. The Wicker Man is one of the most wonderfully weird horror movies ever, with Christopher Lee in a truly groovy zone. Also, it's essentially a musical--how many horror movies can you say that about?
The thing about the movie that makes it memorable rather than just plain silly, imo, is that like many great horror movies it takes a simple idea and follows it to its logical conclusion. In this case, it presents you with an extreme religious situation, and yet never really sides with one side or another. I can't help but make you think. That's why I never regret it when I decide to
For those who haven't seen the film, the story is simple. Scottish policeman Sgt. Howie (Edward Woodward) receives an anonymous letter from the Island of Summerisle, known for its amazing produce, claiming that young Rowan Morrison has been missing for several months. Arriving to investigate, Howie is annoyed by the villagers' lies about the girl--first they pretend not to know her, then say that she's dead, but her coffin contains only the body of a hare. Howie, a very strict Christian, is also repulsed by the Island's openly pagan and very sexual religious life, not to mention their propensity to break into musical numbers at the drop of a hat. The innkeeper's daughter, Willow, (a very-necessarily-dubbed Britt Eckland) tries her best to tempt him into sex, but he "doesn't believe in it before marriage."
Eventually Howie deduces that Rowan Morrison was this year's Crop Maiden, and this year the crops failed badly. He guesses she is not dead yet but is going to be sacrificed come May Day to appease the Sun God. Howie does find Rowan and save her-he thinks-until it's revealed that Rowan, too, is part of the plot to lure him to the Island. It's Sgt. Howie Lord Summerisle (Christopher Lee) has chosen to sacrifice by burning in the giant wicker man. He's the perfect sacrifice, as he not only comes with the power of a king and as a virgin, but plays the role of King for the Day in the May Day celebration (Howie thinks he's just going undercover to find Rowan). There's no last minute rescue for Howie in the end. He's burned alive in the Wicker Man, after warning Summerisle that next year, if the crops fail again, it will probably be he who is sacrificed.
What probably makes the story work is the easy symmetry of the crazy villagers and their religious convictions and Howie's own convictions. Howie's rigid beliefs keep him from ever being fully sympathetic until he's actually facing death, despite the fact that the villagers are sly and kooky themselves, and Howie is trying to save an innocent girl. I remember meeting a Neo-Pagan once who, amazingly, liked to point to this movie as a great portrayal of her beliefs--yeah, because that's all Neo-Pagans need is for people thinking they do human sacrifices. Human sacrifices aside, there's another potential difference between the villagers here and Neo-Pagans in life which is that in general Neo-Pagans tend to be very self-conscious about what they're doing. They're often big readers and students of folklore, and it's not uncommon for them to openly talk about rituals and gods as symbols that have only the power people give them.
It's hard not to suspect the villagers of Summerisle of similarly playing a bit of a game here, perhaps because it's very hard for a modern mind to believe modern-day Scots honestly decided a few decades ago to believe human sacrifice will make apples grow. But that's why Sgt. Howie makes such a compelling antagonist for them, because he is, in fact, just as rigid in his beliefs, just as incapable of looking at his religion objectively. Sometimes this is directly challenged in the movie. For instance, when Howie expresses disgust over naked girls jumping over a fire in the hopes that they will be impregnated through parthenogenesis and decries their lack of knowledge of the "true god" Jesus Christ Lord Summerisle points out that he, too, was the son of a virgin impregnated "by a ghost." Howie is incapable of seeing any similarity between the two beliefs. He assumes Christianity is essentially intelligent and logical in ways other religions are not.
Howie refers to the Island's practices as "fake religion" and "fake biology." The latter, at least, is certainly true. Putting a toad in your mouth will not cure a sore throat and it's frightening to see someone in the 20th century claiming it will. Watching the movie today it's hard not to remember that one of the biggest modern threats to "real biology" and science today comes in the form of things like Intelligent Design, representing the same kind of rejection of the facts.
Although the villagers are clearly the ultimate villains (for all Howie's faults he's not cruelly murdering anyone) the battle between him at the villagers is always curiously more about religion and tradition than actual morals, which makes Howie sound a lot more like the villagers than he believes himself to be. The things that really anger him on the island aren't bad at all, they just offend his delicate sensibilities. When Willow comments on his not coming to see her the night before at her invitation (that invitation being a big naked dance number performed at the wall separating their rooms) Howie, who barely managed to not take her up on her offer, explains that although he is engaged, it is "nothing personal" but he just "doesn't believe in it before marriage." Iow, the bigger problem is in pre-marital sex, not his fiancé's feelings. It's just about keeping his own soul pure.
When the villagers break into a bawdy song about "The Landlord's Daughter" Howie is offended on his own behalf, not for Willow, who takes the song in the spirit it is intended, as a warm celebration of her sexuality. Later he describes a schoolteacher's lecture about the May pole as a phallic symbol representing the penis and celebrated for its connection to the life force as "filth" when there's nothing filthy about what she's saying at all. He even threatens to have her reported on the mainland. And of course he demands to know if they learn of Christianity, but doesn't mind they're not learning about any other belief system (the teacher says they do learn of it as a comparative religion). Most interesting, to me, when he discovers a girl in the class has tied a beetle to a nail so that it will walk around in a circle until it's all tied up tight he angrily asks her why she does it and slams the desk shut--without actually rescuing the poor beetle.
There is no logical common ground between Howie and the villagers, just the assertion that one religion or the other is true. Howie stubbornly demands to know where the minister lives despite there being no need for a minister here. He expresses approval over older names in the town register simply because they come from the Bible. In the end his beliefs really do fit all too perfectly with the villagers. Lord Summerisle correctly suggests that Howie's death will be glorious for him as well as the villagers, because he will die a martyr, a part Howie plays to the hilt to the very end. Howie's own religious obsession with sex is the very thing that makes him an appealing sacrifice to the pagans. Howie is not an accidental virgin; he literally has been keeping himself pure so as to be more pleasing to a deity.
Through it all that deity, along with the Sun God, remains completely silent. I think it's one of the things that make the movie more compelling in its realism. When Howie, burning to death in the wicker man, cries out to Christ we know there's no hope Jesus will intervene on his behalf. His faith that he will go straight to heaven at his death is just that--his faith. It's not presented as particularly believable (unless you the viewer, like Howie, takes it as a fact in life I guess). Nor does the villager's sacrifice of Howie seem a success. Yes, they've killed him, but Howie is right in saying the crops failed because the strains failed, and not because any Sun God needed appeasing. The movie really does not suggest that Howie's sacrifice will have any affect on the crops whatsoever. They really are no different than any religious person today praying for divine intervention about something and finding a way to fit the results in with their beliefs.
I think in the end, much of the power of The Wicker Man lies in its utter lack of the supernatural--something that probably makes it unique amongst fertility cult movies. When you get down to it, it's just a story about crops failing due to completely mundane reasons.
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It's almost Halloween--wee! I had a nice choice of horror movies on TV last night, all of which I already owned, and decided to go with IFC's showing of The Wicker Man. I was hoping to get the longer version, which legend has it is better, but I got the version I've already seen. Not that this is a bad thing. The Wicker Man is one of the most wonderfully weird horror movies ever, with Christopher Lee in a truly groovy zone. Also, it's essentially a musical--how many horror movies can you say that about?
The thing about the movie that makes it memorable rather than just plain silly, imo, is that like many great horror movies it takes a simple idea and follows it to its logical conclusion. In this case, it presents you with an extreme religious situation, and yet never really sides with one side or another. I can't help but make you think. That's why I never regret it when I decide to
For those who haven't seen the film, the story is simple. Scottish policeman Sgt. Howie (Edward Woodward) receives an anonymous letter from the Island of Summerisle, known for its amazing produce, claiming that young Rowan Morrison has been missing for several months. Arriving to investigate, Howie is annoyed by the villagers' lies about the girl--first they pretend not to know her, then say that she's dead, but her coffin contains only the body of a hare. Howie, a very strict Christian, is also repulsed by the Island's openly pagan and very sexual religious life, not to mention their propensity to break into musical numbers at the drop of a hat. The innkeeper's daughter, Willow, (a very-necessarily-dubbed Britt Eckland) tries her best to tempt him into sex, but he "doesn't believe in it before marriage."
Eventually Howie deduces that Rowan Morrison was this year's Crop Maiden, and this year the crops failed badly. He guesses she is not dead yet but is going to be sacrificed come May Day to appease the Sun God. Howie does find Rowan and save her-he thinks-until it's revealed that Rowan, too, is part of the plot to lure him to the Island. It's Sgt. Howie Lord Summerisle (Christopher Lee) has chosen to sacrifice by burning in the giant wicker man. He's the perfect sacrifice, as he not only comes with the power of a king and as a virgin, but plays the role of King for the Day in the May Day celebration (Howie thinks he's just going undercover to find Rowan). There's no last minute rescue for Howie in the end. He's burned alive in the Wicker Man, after warning Summerisle that next year, if the crops fail again, it will probably be he who is sacrificed.
What probably makes the story work is the easy symmetry of the crazy villagers and their religious convictions and Howie's own convictions. Howie's rigid beliefs keep him from ever being fully sympathetic until he's actually facing death, despite the fact that the villagers are sly and kooky themselves, and Howie is trying to save an innocent girl. I remember meeting a Neo-Pagan once who, amazingly, liked to point to this movie as a great portrayal of her beliefs--yeah, because that's all Neo-Pagans need is for people thinking they do human sacrifices. Human sacrifices aside, there's another potential difference between the villagers here and Neo-Pagans in life which is that in general Neo-Pagans tend to be very self-conscious about what they're doing. They're often big readers and students of folklore, and it's not uncommon for them to openly talk about rituals and gods as symbols that have only the power people give them.
It's hard not to suspect the villagers of Summerisle of similarly playing a bit of a game here, perhaps because it's very hard for a modern mind to believe modern-day Scots honestly decided a few decades ago to believe human sacrifice will make apples grow. But that's why Sgt. Howie makes such a compelling antagonist for them, because he is, in fact, just as rigid in his beliefs, just as incapable of looking at his religion objectively. Sometimes this is directly challenged in the movie. For instance, when Howie expresses disgust over naked girls jumping over a fire in the hopes that they will be impregnated through parthenogenesis and decries their lack of knowledge of the "true god" Jesus Christ Lord Summerisle points out that he, too, was the son of a virgin impregnated "by a ghost." Howie is incapable of seeing any similarity between the two beliefs. He assumes Christianity is essentially intelligent and logical in ways other religions are not.
Howie refers to the Island's practices as "fake religion" and "fake biology." The latter, at least, is certainly true. Putting a toad in your mouth will not cure a sore throat and it's frightening to see someone in the 20th century claiming it will. Watching the movie today it's hard not to remember that one of the biggest modern threats to "real biology" and science today comes in the form of things like Intelligent Design, representing the same kind of rejection of the facts.
Although the villagers are clearly the ultimate villains (for all Howie's faults he's not cruelly murdering anyone) the battle between him at the villagers is always curiously more about religion and tradition than actual morals, which makes Howie sound a lot more like the villagers than he believes himself to be. The things that really anger him on the island aren't bad at all, they just offend his delicate sensibilities. When Willow comments on his not coming to see her the night before at her invitation (that invitation being a big naked dance number performed at the wall separating their rooms) Howie, who barely managed to not take her up on her offer, explains that although he is engaged, it is "nothing personal" but he just "doesn't believe in it before marriage." Iow, the bigger problem is in pre-marital sex, not his fiancé's feelings. It's just about keeping his own soul pure.
When the villagers break into a bawdy song about "The Landlord's Daughter" Howie is offended on his own behalf, not for Willow, who takes the song in the spirit it is intended, as a warm celebration of her sexuality. Later he describes a schoolteacher's lecture about the May pole as a phallic symbol representing the penis and celebrated for its connection to the life force as "filth" when there's nothing filthy about what she's saying at all. He even threatens to have her reported on the mainland. And of course he demands to know if they learn of Christianity, but doesn't mind they're not learning about any other belief system (the teacher says they do learn of it as a comparative religion). Most interesting, to me, when he discovers a girl in the class has tied a beetle to a nail so that it will walk around in a circle until it's all tied up tight he angrily asks her why she does it and slams the desk shut--without actually rescuing the poor beetle.
There is no logical common ground between Howie and the villagers, just the assertion that one religion or the other is true. Howie stubbornly demands to know where the minister lives despite there being no need for a minister here. He expresses approval over older names in the town register simply because they come from the Bible. In the end his beliefs really do fit all too perfectly with the villagers. Lord Summerisle correctly suggests that Howie's death will be glorious for him as well as the villagers, because he will die a martyr, a part Howie plays to the hilt to the very end. Howie's own religious obsession with sex is the very thing that makes him an appealing sacrifice to the pagans. Howie is not an accidental virgin; he literally has been keeping himself pure so as to be more pleasing to a deity.
Through it all that deity, along with the Sun God, remains completely silent. I think it's one of the things that make the movie more compelling in its realism. When Howie, burning to death in the wicker man, cries out to Christ we know there's no hope Jesus will intervene on his behalf. His faith that he will go straight to heaven at his death is just that--his faith. It's not presented as particularly believable (unless you the viewer, like Howie, takes it as a fact in life I guess). Nor does the villager's sacrifice of Howie seem a success. Yes, they've killed him, but Howie is right in saying the crops failed because the strains failed, and not because any Sun God needed appeasing. The movie really does not suggest that Howie's sacrifice will have any affect on the crops whatsoever. They really are no different than any religious person today praying for divine intervention about something and finding a way to fit the results in with their beliefs.
I think in the end, much of the power of The Wicker Man lies in its utter lack of the supernatural--something that probably makes it unique amongst fertility cult movies. When you get down to it, it's just a story about crops failing due to completely mundane reasons.
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