When a movie has been on my to-watch backlog for as long as The Wicker Man, I go into it with a lot of assumptions based on stuff that’s been outright spoiled, or stuff I knew from general cultural diffusion. And from watching the inexcusably awful remake. I hadn’t thought it was possible for me to hate that movie even worse, but finally seeing the original transformed my take on the remake from “offensively unnecessary” to “thoroughly offensive.”1 So after watching the original The Wicker Man, I can’t remember ever seeing a movie and so thoroughly wishing I could’ve seen it in its original context. Watching it in 2026, it feels bold and transgressive and completely unique. How much of that is the result of my formative years being in the height of an American conservative movement? My impression of the early 1970s in the UK is mostly formed from Led Zeppelin album covers; maybe pagan imagery wasn’t as immediately shocking.2 In any case, I don’t want to give the impression that The…
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