The Wicker Man (2006) review

Dir. Neil LaBute

By: Steve Pulaski

Rating: ★★

One might be shocked to discover (or perhaps more accurately, remember) that it was playwright/filmmaker Neil LaBute behind the maligned and now-memed remake of The Wicker Man. LaBute’s directorial debut, In the Company of Men, was a revelatory black comedy, set in a white collar office, that played like a horror-show predicated on the vile and deceptive behaviors by two desperate men. After writing and directing a series of similarly low-to-medium budget dramas, LaBute’s entry into the “mainstream” began with The Wicker Man.

At first glance, it seems like a complete pivot from anything LaBute had already done or would elect to do. However, lost amidst harsh scrutiny is the film’s distinctive thematic touches that draw parallels with LaBute’s earlier works. One of the most significant narrative changes to LaBute’s Wicker Man is the central conflict of the story. In the 1973 film, that push-pull was between Christianity and paganism. In the remake, the antagonistic pagans have been replaced with a group of matriarchal feminists, who have erected their own colony divorced from modern civilization. They are not operating on contempt for Christians, but instead the patriarchy as a whole.

Gender politics are a common thread in LaBute’s films. Keep in mind that this film was released in 2006. If it were released today, it would be chastised as “woke” by internet users who didn’t even finish watching the trailer.

Don’t get it twisted. I went into The Wicker Man hoping I’d be one of its lone defenders — a film with a 15% critic rating on Rotten Tomatoes, coupled with a 17% audience rating could use a friend — but did not emerge victorious in my pursuit. I picked up with LaBute put down, even if I ultimately don’t think it was successful. This is a film undone by its own slow, repetitive plotting that gives way to an outright silly climax; the latter isn’t without laughs, but you might’ve been too checked out to notice.

Nicolas Cage stars as Edward Malus, a California cop who lays low following an on-the-job tragedy (which makes for a powerful opening, I’ll admit). At the insistence of his ex-girlfriend, Willow (Kate Beahan), he travels to a mysterious island off the coast of Washington to investigate the sudden disappearance of Willow’s daughter, Rowan. Edward travels by boat, and realizes that he’s the enemy of this island by virtue of being a male. This closed-off society values men only for their ability to procreate and occasionally lift some heavy objects. The feminists who make up the island worship Sister Summersisle (the great Ellen Burstyn), essentially a nature goddess who oversees this large group of peaceful waifs.

Adding to the strangeness of the female customs is the fact that nobody from the adults to the children seem to remember Rowan existing at all. This drives Edward, a detective by profession, mad as he searches for answers on an island that conveniently has none to offer. Joy Ride‘s Leelee Sobieski and Jeepers Creepers 2‘s Diane Delano round out a capable supporting cast.

Although maligned for the various scenes that require him to exude panic and paranoia, Nicolas Cage’s performance here is one I’d deem reasonably effective as he grows increasingly agitated by the heightening mystery and subsequent lack of clarity revolving around Rowan’s disappearance. Unfortunately, LaBute’s pacing coupled with Joel Plotch’s editing mismanages a lot of the suspense. Far too many scenes dull the razor’s edge of tension that boils under the surface, and a sloppy and borderline comedic third act lacks a gut-punch and lands more like a slap in the face. The Wicker Man doesn’t deserve its ignominious status, but it also doesn’t deserve a great deal of critical reevaluation, though it does fit more more comfortably into LaBute’s personal repertoire than his (still solid) mainstream works like Lakeview Terrace and Death at a Funeral (2010).

When viewed through that prism, The Wicker Man is what I call a “Monet movie,” in reference to the works of Claude Monet. Good from far, far from good.

Starring: Nicolas Cage, Ellen Burstyn, Kate Beahan, Frances Conroy, Molly Parker, Leelee Sobieski, and Diane Delano. Directed by: Neil LaBute.