The Wicker
Man
(2006)
(SPOILERS) There’s
been a seemingly endless supply of remakes of ‘70s movies since the turn of the
millennium, most of which I’ve managed to avoid. I’ve yet to experience the
dubious pleasures of Stallone’s Get
Carter, Branagh’s Sleuth, or Rod
Lurie’s Straw Dogs, for example. I did have a vague interest in Neil La
Bute’s take on The Wicker Man,
however, given it has developed its very own cult reputation, of a “so bad it’s
good” variety. Most of which rests on a typically eccentric Nicolas Cage
performance, which I tend to be all for. But still, I was resistant, out of
respect for the original. It seemed a sacrilegious act to have even gone there,
which given the themes of Robin Hardy’s film might have been exactly why LaBute
thought it was fair game.
“Not the bees!”, is the key quoted line
from the remake, which isn’t even in the original theatrical cut (like the 1973
film, this Wicker Man has a cult
following, and like the 1973 film it also has its very own legacy of alternate
versions; the context is entirely less respectful, of course). Such is the
thespian excess on display in the climactic sequence, it has inspired numerous mocking/celebrating
YouTube clips. I’d like to be able to affirm the picture’s revised reputation
as a cult comedy classic, but while it undoubtedly features a raft of inspired,
lunatic moments, mostly down to Nic himself (Cage says he knew all along it was
absurd, but his performances often suggest he’s the only person in a movie who
sees the material that way), it remains some considerable distance from such exalted
status.
While the
remake’s adulterated premise arguably lends itself to the preposterous, and one
might read it as LaBute caricaturing – or poking the badger, or bear, with regards to his
critics – the accusations of misogyny that had cropped up in his previous work
(albeit a misanthropic inclination has always been the most pervasive charge; I
don’t think there’s much arguing with that one), there simply isn’t enough
besides Cage to support that.
LaBute has
never been one for the subtler elements, preferring to tackle his subjects head
on. Hence the ungainly decision, whatever is precise root “inspiration” may
have been, to engineer a gender reversal on characters from the original; “Summersisle”
is now transposed to America, and presided over by a rather stiff matriarch
(Ellen Burstyn). Many of the alterations are relatively cosmetic, and the
picture suffers accordingly, despite its hyperbolic (Nic) elements. Instead of
devising an at-least-interesting take on esteemed material, one mostly finds
oneself conscious of how scenes have been lifted wholesale from the original,
right down repeating the dialogue, and concluding that change has been made for
change’s sake rather than any really good reason.
True, Cage’s
Edward Malus (really?) is somewhat different to Edward Woodward’s Sergeant
Howie. Which is for the good; a straightjacketed Cage would have been a death
sentence to the picture. Malus’s motorcycle cop is most definitely non-
virginal, his lure to the island being an ex and (eventually) the prospect that
he’s the father of her “missing” daughter. Rather than brandishing Woodward’s
(his ex, played by Karre Beahan, is named Willow Woodward; I’m not sure the
“tribute” to the actor is really warranted) self-righteous moral fervour, Cage
is inimitably Cage, and at intervals gloriously entertaining with it. He’s
prone to an unfortunate bee allergy, manifested in deliriously deliberate
fashion, particularly so given he is visiting an island known for its honey
production where fields are mown in the shape of honeycombs. He even dresses up
as a bear at the climax, since we know what their greatest love is, and what
they don’t much care for in tandem with that.
If the
picture rather traces its way along the lines of Robin Hardy’s film for the
first two-thirds, it becomes energetically over-the-top in time for the grand finale.
It’s not enough that Cage is swatting bees as if they’re flies, or exclaiming
repeatedly “How’d it get burned?!” of
his daughter’s doll; he’s compelled to draw his gun and instruct cyclist Molly
Parker to “Get off the bike! Get off the
bike! Step away, from the bike!”. Then he lays out Dena Delano, before
drop-kicking Leelee Sobeiski and running about in aforementioned bear outfit (encumbered
by which, he punches more of the island’s womenfolk). When he’s finally
accosted, spitting “You bitches!”,
his ankles are broken in a moment closer to the sort of surreal comedy you’d
expect from The Goodies than horror (“AHHH, my legs!”). His cloistering within
the Wicker Man is antically memorable too, ushered to his doom with the chant
of “The drone must die!”
All of
which might suggest LaBute was also on board in making the film “absurd”. Aside
from being a rather inane mission (assuming he had any respect for the
original), though, such mentalist flair isn’t in sufficient supply. And the
thematic material that remains is either too literal or under-nourished. The
duelling belief systems motif is effectively dropped, since Cage doesn’t
believe, leaving him to wonder how, as an outsider, his sacrifice has any
value. And the gender divisions are plain clumsy and hackneyed – or perhaps
just absurd. I did rather like the – overdone – bee motif, but even that
aspect, which has connotations of shamanic practice, is awarded a very pedestrian
interpretation.
Still,
given The Wicker Man remake’s
reputation – the one that doesn’t
allow for it being a comedy – as some kind of nadir in movie taste, recognised
as such with five Golden Razzie nominations, it’s not unwatchable, or in its
own way un-entertaining. Its greatest strength is Cage (I wonder what LaBute
must think, given this is by far his best-known feature), elevating every scene
he’s in whether the scene likes it or not, but those clip compilations rather
do the film more favours than it deserves as a piece of demented genius (I
don’t doubt, though, that if you’re watching in a sufficiently altered state, it is the funniest film ever). On top of which,
however you cut it, having the ubiquitous James Franco show up in the final
scene is unforgivable.
Agree? Disagree? Mildly or vehemently? Let me know in the comments below.