The Wicker Man

A Scottish police officer arrives at an island village to investigate a young girl’s disappearance.

The Wicker Man is a sharp, intelligent, thriller.

The screenplay by Anthony Shaffer is a thing of beauty. It sets you on edge from practically the first line of dialog and gets progressively more and more disturbing as it builds to its memorable and powerful climax.

The genius is in how Shaffer manages the tension. This isn’t a gory movie; in fact, there’s not a drop of blood to be found. Yet, even without a knife wielding maniac or supernatural killer, Shaffer manages to build a sense of claustrophobia and outright dread the equal of any thriller. He does this by playing on our own insecurities by using innuendo and outright erotica to instill a sense of unease that proves just as effective as any blood soaked corpse.

Complementing Shaffer’s script are two great performances by Edward Woodward and Christopher Lee. Woodward is completely believable as the Puritanical Sergeant, and Lee is dynamite as Lord Summerisle, the owner of the island.

If I had to nitpick, I’d argue that the soundtrack is the film’s weakest link as it, more than anything else, dates the picture. Still, the way director Robin Hardy contrasts the bright soundtrack with the film’s dark themes is a thing of beauty and almost offsets the music’s jarring effect.