The man in the new movie Wicker is, indeed, a man made of wicker. He is not “The Wicker Man,” and so no one gets burned alive, but he does set hearts ablaze and exposes the moral rot of a small village in the process.
Olivia Colman plays the Fisherwoman, who lives in the village during some time period in the past, before electricity and running water, which we know because of the frequent use of chamber pots and the public urination, although that latter part might simply be because of the boorish nature of the village’s men. No one in town seems to have a lot of use for the Fisherwoman, partly because she smells like fish, partly because she’s a little strange, and a lot because she doesn’t take any guff from anyone, which means she’s not marriage material as far as the men can see it, since she’s not pliable and exploitable. She does, though, go to the Basket Weaver, who’s played by Peter Dinklage, and she asks him to make her a husband, sort of as a joke on the rest of the village. The Basket Weaver is a master craftsman, so much so that when her new wicker husband appears, he can walk and talk and is utterly devoted to her.
Rumors swirl about the new man, as the women become intrigued and the men instantly decry that he actually does the work of being a good partner, and nearly everyone reveals that they simply have no idea how to interact on any kind of level other than one related to resentment and dominance. One particularly revealing, and entertaining, scene involves a dance in the village square during which the townspeople play out a kind of absurdly juvenile routine based in expressions of mutual disgust while the Wicker Husband stands in the middle and engages in the appalling behavior of holding his wife and telling her that he loves her, which everyone else regards with loathing and, of course, secret jealousy.
The movie is certainly a satire, and occasionally tips into farce, and so there are times when its abrupt tonal shifts don’t serve it particularly well. But it’s also often quite funny, Colman and Dinklage are both magnificent, as they always are, and the film is gorgeously photographed, with a few shots displaying a surreal, fairy-tale beauty, even if they’re bookended by the baseness of bodily functions. And while it seems like it should be obvious, it’s probably still true that we could all take a few cues from the Wicker Husband.
Wicker is in theaters.
