Burning Faith: The Pagan Inferno of The Wicker Man
In the heather-strewn hills of Summerisle, a devout Christian policeman confronts the primal pulse of ancient rites, only to become the centrepiece of a harvest sacrifice.
Robin Hardy’s The Wicker Man (1973) stands as a towering achievement in British horror, a film that weaves folk traditions into a tapestry of psychological unease and ritualistic terror. Far from the slasher tropes or supernatural jump scares dominating the genre, it plunges viewers into the heart of folk horror, where community, custom, and coercion blur into nightmare.
- Explore the film’s masterful blend of Christian piety and pagan revivalism, exposing cultural clashes through Sergeant Howie’s harrowing journey.
- Unpack the innovative sound design and cinematography that immerse audiences in Summerisle’s seductive yet sinister world.
- Trace its profound legacy as the blueprint for modern folk horror, influencing everything from Midsommar to contemporary chills.
The Lure of Summerisle
Sergeant Neil Howie, a staunch Presbyterian from the Scottish mainland, receives a distress call about a missing girl named Rowan Morrison on the remote Hebridean island of Summerisle. What begins as a routine investigation spirals into a confrontation with a community governed by pre-Christian paganism. The islanders, led by the charismatic Lord Summerisle (Christopher Lee), worship gods of fertility and harvest through songs, dances, and phallic symbols. Howie, airborne in his seaplane, lands amid blooming orchards and cheerful folk tunes, initially mistaking the island’s vibrancy for quaint eccentricity.
As Howie probes deeper, the narrative unfolds with meticulous detail. He interviews villagers who deny Rowan’s existence, showing photographs where she never appears. The schoolteacher recites lessons on Sumerian procreation myths, while the pub bursts with bawdy ballads celebrating copulation. Britt Ekland’s Willow, the landlord’s daughter, tempts Howie with nude dances against his hotel room wall, her rhythmic pounding a siren call he resists through prayer. The film’s synopsis builds tension organically, revealing Howie’s isolation not through monsters but through the collective denial and mockery of his values.
Production history adds layers to this tale. Funded by British Lion Films and Peter Snell, Hardy shot on location in Scotland, capturing authentic rural textures. Challenges abounded: director of photography Harry Waxman battled unpredictable weather, while composer Paul Giovanni crafted a soundtrack of sea shanties and hymns that doubled as diegetic folklore. Legends of Celtic sacrifices informed the script by Anthony Shaffer, drawing from rituals documented in James Frazer’s The Golden Bough, transforming myth into visceral cinema.
Sergeant Howie’s Unravelling Faith
Edward Woodward’s portrayal of Howie anchors the film in raw human vulnerability. A virgin by choice, committed to his fiancée and God, Howie embodies rigid morality amid Summerisle’s hedonism. His arc traces a descent from authority to victimhood: scoffing at a grave-side phallus, recoiling from animal sacrifices, he clings to scripture even as evidence mounts that Rowan lives. Woodward’s performance, marked by furrowed brows and fervent recitations, conveys mounting desperation without histrionics.
Key scenes amplify this. In the library, Howie discovers Lord Summerisle’s ancestor imported paganism to boost crops after famine, grafting ancient rites onto Victorian soil. The revelation reframes the island as a deliberate experiment in revivalism. Howie’s midnight procession encounter, with masked revellers cavorting around fires, shatters his composure; he charges through, overturning altars, a prophet decrying idolatry. Symbolism abounds: the phallic maypole mirrors his erect moral spine, destined to burn.
Cinematography by Waxman employs natural light and wide angles to dwarf Howie against landscapes, underscoring his outsider status. Mise-en-scène bursts with fertility icons—apples rotting on trees, beehives symbolising communal hives—juxtaposed against Howie’s austere cross. Gender dynamics emerge: women as temptresses and priestesses wield power, inverting patriarchal norms and challenging 1970s viewers.
Songs of Seduction and Dread
The soundtrack emerges as a character unto itself, blending folk revival with horror. Paul Giovanni’s score features Willow’s “Maypole Song” and “Gently Johnny,” sung with hypnotic cadence, luring Howie towards transgression. These are not background cues but communal anthems, performed by locals in pubs and processions, embedding pagan ethos into every frame. Sound design heightens isolation: Howie’s radio crackles with mainland irrelevance, drowned by island chants.
A pivotal scene unfolds at the beach, where Howie finds a dummy strung as Rowan, only for islanders to reveal it as practice for human sacrifice. The “bumper harvest” song underscores the twist: failed crops necessitate a king’s death, Howie fulfilling the role. Audio layers—waves crashing, drums throbbing—build auditory claustrophobia, mirroring his entrapment.
Class politics simmer beneath. Summerisle’s laird class enforces rituals on peasants, echoing feudal structures. Howie’s middle-class propriety clashes with rustic vitality, critiquing urban disdain for rural traditions amid Britain’s 1970s folk revival, spurred by bands like Fairport Convention.
Ritual Flames and Pagan Power
The climax atop Summerisle’s cliffs delivers folk horror’s zenith. Howie, bound nude atop the wicker man—a colossal effigy of woven branches filled with beasts—lectures the islanders on their doom as flames rise. Lee’s Lord Summerisle, regal in top hat and velvet, orchestrates with operatic flair, promising bountiful apples. Howie’s final screams blend with Gaelic hymns, a cacophony of clashing faiths.
Special effects, rudimentary yet effective, rely on practical builds. The wicker man, constructed from scaffold and thatch, burned convincingly under controlled fires, captured in long takes for authenticity. No gore dominates; terror stems from inevitability, the community’s joyous unity in murder evoking Nuremberg rallies transposed to pastoral idyll.
Themes of religion and ideology permeate. Howie’s Christianity, portrayed sympathetically yet futilely, critiques dogmatic certainty against pragmatic paganism. Trauma echoes in the island’s famine backstory, rituals as survival mechanisms rooted in national history—Druidic practices suppressed by Romans and Christians.
Folk Horror’s Enduring Harvest
The Wicker Man‘s influence ripples through genre evolution. It codified folk horror’s tenets—isolation, ambiguous evil, archaic customs—paving for The Blood on Satan’s Claw (1971) contemporaries and Ari Aster’s Midsommar (2019). Remakes (2006, starring Nicolas Cage) pale beside the original’s subtlety, while its 1973 cut faced butchery by studios, restored in 1998 for full impact.
Production woes shaped its mythos. Initial funders baulked at costs, leading to Hardy shooting interiors at Norton Disney Hall. Censorship trimmed nudity, yet the uncut version preserves Ekland’s body double (Jenny Runacre) for Willow’s dance. Behind-scenes tales include Lee’s enthusiasm, drawing from his Hammer Dracula persona into aristocratic menace.
Cultural echoes persist: festivals screen it annually, inspiring novels and games. Its placement in subgenres bridges Hammer gothic with 1970s Occult revival, post-Summer of Love disillusionment fuelling interest in earth religions.
Director in the Spotlight
Robin Hardy, born Robert William Francis Hardy on 18 October 1932 in London, emerged from a family steeped in arts—his father a civil servant, mother an actress. Educated at Rugby School and Oxford, where he read English, Hardy initially pursued advertising before television. Early career included directing BBC dramas like Robin Hood (1955-1960) episodes, honing skills in period authenticity and ensemble casts.
Hardy’s feature debut The Wicker Man (1973) catapulted him to cult status, blending his fascination with folklore—sparked by childhood Highland visits—with Shaffer’s script. Influences ranged from Ingmar Bergman’s communal allegories to Powell and Pressburger’s pastoral visions. Post-Wicker, he helmed The Fantasist (1986), a psychological thriller about a seductive killer starring Moira Harris, exploring repressed desires.
The Wicker Tree (2011), his Wicker sequel, revisited pagan themes with Texan evangelicals on Summerisle, though critically divisive for tonal shifts. Other works include Legend of the Werewolf (1975), a Hammer co-direct with Freddie Francis, featuring werewolf lore in Parisian sewers, and TV’s Cowboys (1977), a satirical western sitcom. Hardy authored novels like Warriors (2006), tying to cinematic pursuits.
Late career saw The Devil’s Bride projects, reflecting lifelong occult interest. Hardy passed on 1 July 2016, leaving a legacy of atmospheric dread. Filmography highlights: The Wicker Man (1973, folk horror pinnacle); The Fantasist (1986, erotic suspense); The Wicker Tree (2011, spiritual successor); Legend of the Werewolf (1975, creature feature).
Actor in the Spotlight
Christopher Lee, born Christopher Frank Carandini Lee on 27 May 1922 in Belgravia, London, to an Italian mother and British colonel father, lived a peripatetic youth across France, Switzerland, and England. Educated at Wellington College, he served in RAF Intelligence during WWII, interrogating Nazis and witnessing Bergen-Belsen liberation, experiences fuelling his authoritative menace.
Post-war, Lee joined Rank Organisation, debuting in Corridor of Mirrors (1948). Hammer Horror stardom exploded with Dracula (1958), his aristocratic vampire defining the role through nine sequels like Dracula: Prince of Darkness (1966). Saruman in Peter Jackson’s The Lord of the Rings trilogy (2001-2003) and The Hobbit (2012-2014) showcased vocal gravitas.
In The Wicker Man, Lee’s Lord Summerisle revels in fruity villainy, a career highlight blending charm and cruelty. Notable roles: Francisco Scaramanga in The Man with the Golden Gun (1974, James Bond foe); Fu Manchu series (1965-1969); Count Dracula across Hammer canon; Rochefort in The Three Musketeers (1973). Awards included Officer of the British Empire (1997), Knight Bachelor (2009), and BAFTA fellowship (2010).
Lee recorded metal albums into his 90s, like Charlemagne: By the Sword and the Cross (2010). He died 7 June 2015. Comprehensive filmography: Dracula (1958, iconic vampire); The Wicker Man (1973, pagan lord); The Man with the Golden Gun (1974, assassin); Star Wars: Episode III – Revenge of the Sith (2005, Count Dooku); over 280 credits spanning horror, fantasy, action.
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Bibliography
Hardy, R. (2001) The Making of the Wicker Man. Gordonian Books.
Shaffer, A. (1978) The Wicker Man. Samuel French.
Chibnall, S. and Petley, J. (2002) British Horror Cinema. Routledge.
Frazer, J.G. (1890) The Golden Bough. Macmillan.
McCabe, B. (1999) The Paradox of Terror. Creation Books.
Lee, C. (1977) Tall, Dark and Gruesome. Souvenir Press.
Harper, J. (2004) ‘Folk Horror Revival: Cult Films of the British Landscape’, Visual Studies, 19(2), pp. 145-160.
Wood, M. (2019) ‘Pagan Rites on Screen: The Wicker Man at 45’, British Film Institute. Available at: https://www.bfi.org.uk/features/wicker-man-45 (Accessed: 15 October 2023).