In the romantic-fantasy Wicker, a towering Alexander Skarsgård plays a literal man made of wicker…y’know, like the baskets piling up at your favorite Pier 1 Imports. He’s a kind and gentle soul, who whispers sweet nothings to the woman that he loves. He…um…also has a massive “tool”, with which he pleasures this woman, a foul-smelling Fisherwoman in a backwards medieval town where everyone, save one person, seems like they could use a shower. With rom-coms always catching heat for their formulaic nature, one thing you can never say about Wicker is that its like comes around too often. Does it always work? Not really, but its bawdy sense of humor and surprising soulfulness are a welcome turn for the genre.
Of course, it doesn’t hurt to have Oscar winner Olivia Colman, who is getting a lot more buzz for this far-out film than she is for another awards season favorite, Elsinore, in which she’s a minor player. In Wicker, she plays the aforementioned Fisherwoman, considered a joke around town for her aroma and inability to land a husband. Tired of the snide remarks and not-so-subtle bullying, she approaches a master Basket Weaver, played by Peter Dinklage, to create her a husband. “Come back in a month”, he says, as if it’s just another day at the office. In a month, she’s met at the chapel to wed her new husband, a gallant but powerful man made of woven straw and some kind of unspeakable magic.
Wicker is based on Ursula Wills-Jones’ 2008 short story, The Wicker Husband, and like a lot of modern fairy tales, it’s a subversion of many classic tropes. Writers/directors Eleanor Wilson and Alex Huston Fischer, in a follow-up to their hilarious alien invasion comedy Save Yourselves!, poke fun at the patriarchy, marriage as an institution, and the need for women to fit into typical gender norms. In this town, the men are certifiably useless and gross, the women are catty and unsatisfied, and everyone is horny as Hell. Colman’s Fisherwoman seems to be above it all, though. She mostly ignores the jabs at her expense, until even she starts to feel the sting of loneliness.
The wicker creation is magnificent, and the sound design impeccable as he swishes and swooshes with every step. He’s handsome, sexy, and regal, in a Beauty and the Beast kind of way. We’re meant to take the Wicker Husband seriously as the Fisher Woman’s paramour, so when he tells her “I was made to be with you” and “You are the reason I live and breathe”, it rings as true and heartfelt from this man with no actual heart. It’s Colman’s reactions to these words that hit the hardest. Colman is one of the best at displays of grief, and her character is someone who had grown accustomed, even happy, with her life of solitude. Now, with this wicker man in her heart, she has something to lose and the fear of losing it is too much to bear. To that end, the women in town, in particular the jealous mean girl Tailor’s Wife played by Elizabeth Debicki, are Hellbent on making her a single spinster again.
The men are more concerned with how inadequate the Wicker Husband makes them look. He builds things, repairs the house, and, oh yeah, has bed-wrecking sex with his wife constantly. Most of the men in town can’t be bothered to pleasure their own wives, and don’t see what the fuss is all about. This whole town needs a good lay, and a bath. Well, except for Dinklage’s Basket Weaver, who looks like the only one that has ever met a bar of soap.
Wicker‘s tone is a bit all over the map, and at times it feels like the film is running around in circles trying to figure itself out. While we are meant to take the central relationship at face value, with Colman and Skarsgard doing an excellent job of selling it, the rest of the world they exist in is less convincing. This becomes key when tragedy inevitably strikes and a new wicker creation starts mucking things up. There’s little emotional impact to it, and the ramifications of any of it are never fully explored. Despite its challenges, Wicker is a randy and audacious good time, with Colman proving once again that she can make literally anything work. I’d say she’s at her best the more ludicrous the concept, because she invests everything in every single role.
Wicker is open in select theaters now from Black Bear Pictures.
