The original
Wicker Man wasn't a particularly great movie, so it wasn't that much of a sacrifice for me - if you'll pardon the expression - when they remade it. Remakes, so far as I'm concerned, are for movies that were merely okay the first time around. The remakes rarely are actually
better, but when you're remaking The Godfather or Casablanca, you really have no hope. When you're redoing The Hills Have Eyes or House of Wax, you're probably not going to make a masterpiece, but at least your chances of improving the original are far better.
But while watching Nicholas Cage dork his way through the new Wicker Man - which is so bad I can only watch it in five-minute increments - I'm amazed at everything they got wrong.
See, Wicker Man isn't a great film - it's got that stodgy pacing that most 1970s films do, it's quite full of itself, and the acting has Christopher Lee. I mean, I like Christopher Lee, but then again I really dig old Hammer films, which means you are in for a faceful of MAJESTIC ACTING and GRAND SWEEPING GESTURES and VERY ROLLED RS.
Yet why has the original Wicker Man endured? It's a bog-standard horror film, but it has two major twists you won't get in any other movie: the first is that the enemies are strictly pagan, and they're reasonably well-researched. There is a subgenre of people who will forgive any awfulness in a movie so long as the historical details are correct - sure, the plot holes may be so large they're threatening to swallow Cleveland, and the acting makes Pauly Shore look like a fucking Golden Globe winner, but did you see the trim on his helmet? It's completely 1466! You
have to see this movie!
What this means is that the original Wicker Man has a
lot of bardy music, culminating in an extended naked dance sequence intended to arouse your erotic spirits, but realistically sounds like some inbred SCA splinter faction's idea of a wild orgy. At first it's a nice change of pace from the usual STABBITY STABBITY violin-and-timpani zings of traditional horror soundtracks, but if your tolerance for fair-to-middling folk music is about ten minutes, like most of the population, by the end of the original Wicker Man you'll be needing some Slayer to wash out your earlobes.
And yet despite these flaws, the original Wicker Man
works. Because the twist is very clear: these are pagans on their remote isle, and the investigating officer is very clearly an uptight Christian. He believes fiercely in one God, and he will not have sex before marriage, and his interactions with the people of the isle are colored by this. It makes for an intriguing tension.
Because the pagans actually seem to be having a good time.
Unlike most inbred cultists, the second major twist is that pagans have a lot of fine sex, and live among very pretty things, and they actually appear to be a fuck of a lot happier than poor Sergeant Neil Howie. After a while of watching Neil be outraged by everything that crosses his little twisted knickers, you're going,
dude, lighten up, just have sex with the beautiful naked women and it'll be cool. Sure, they're a little creepy, but the same can be said of a lot of poly families - which leads to a fascinating thing where the traditional narrative tells you that you should be rooting for old uptight Sergeant Howie, but the people he meets seem to be the folks you'd rather hang out with if you had to choose.
And the amazing thing is that the new Wicker Man imported
none of this.
In the new Wicker Man, the pagan cult? It's helmed by wimmens.
Eeeevil wimmens. And the wimmens have the poor, bastardized menfolks in terrified bondage in their crazy feminist enclave, and nobody really looks that happy. Instead, everyone on the new Summerisle is imported directly from the Inbred Cultists Association, complete with gibbering old people, unshaven burly men, and cackling hags.
But more importantly, they've given Nicholas Cage a
mission. Old Sergeant Howie was merely a dedicated detective following the trail of a missing girl - he didn't know her, but what was important was that justice was served. That gave him, at least, something you could respect. Nicholas Cage, on the other hand, is chasing OMG HIS DAUGHTER into the horrific depths of what would have happened to America if we had been foolish enough to pass the ERA and listened to Betty Friedan -
- and more importantly, Nickie-boy doesn't believe in anything. He's got no religion, no strong beliefs, just an urge to see his offspring. The original Wicker Man staged a showdown between Paganism and Christianity, but the new Wicker Man has a showdown between Paganism and agnosticism, which is inherently less interesting. Nicholas is fighting for the forces of genericism, or, perhaps, Darwinism. How many films have a man battling to save his offspring? About a zillion, right? In a way, it makes him more selfish because he doesn't give a fuck about anything on the island except that his genetic material might be recuperable. And without giving anything away, the fact that he has a daughter removes one of the most interesting twists of the original.
So now that you've neatly flensed away everything that set the old Wicker Man apart from other films, one has to ask the producers: why the hell did you
make this movie? Because cultists on an island was such a crazy, unique idea that you just had to toy with it? Because the Wicker Man is so terrifying in and of itself?
No. I'll tell you why the original Wicker Man is scary: it's because near the end, there is an unmistakably chilling moment where you see Sergeant Howie's anguish and faith and fury going up against all of Summerisle. He's in more pain than any man has a right to be in, and the town? They are perfectly happy. In fact, they are ecstatic. And not culty-crazy ecstatic, but having the happy joy of simple people experiencing a fine day at the fair. His faith? His urges? They're gonna go away, and be buried, and the town is going to have a damn good year, and nothing that meant anything to him will survive.
That's horror, man. The old Wicker Man's tedious, but in the end it delivers that one shot - and that makes it all worthwhile. The new Wicker Man? Has Nicholas Cage screaming, "
NOT THE BEES! NOT THE BEES!" in hysterical overacting. Underneath it is no conflict we haven't seen a thousand times before. As such, it is hollower than the Wicker Man itself.