Directed By Alex Huston Fischer and Eleanor Wilson

Starring – Olivia Colman, Alexander Skarsgard, Elizabeth Debicki

The Plot – An ostracized fisherwoman (Colman) commissions the local basket maker to weave her a husband (Skarsgard), but when her wicker creation proves unexpectedly extraordinary, his presence ignites jealousy and upheaval that threatens their quiet village.

Rated R for sexual content, adult language and brief full nudity.

WICKER | Official Trailer | 2026 [HD]

POSITIVES

Given A24’s previously proven track record of openly embracing the creatively bizarre and structurally unconventional, ‘Wicker’ weaves a surprisingly sweet and introspectively thought-provoking exploration about love, loneliness, gender roles and especially societal expectations, that not only challenges the traditional institution of marriage, but also conjures a sophomore stinger for Alex Huston Fischer and Eleanor Wilson, that is charmingly irresistible with the limitless laughter attained by the helming of such a fantastical feminist fable. After Fischer and Wilson previously disappointed with their directorial debut ‘Save Yourselves!’ from far back in 2020, it’s clear that the time spent away from the silver screen has helped each of them to hone in directly on the effectiveness their craft, specifically in the richly consistent balancing of sharply deviating tones, the likes of which compellingly flourish without a single glaring weakness among them. While the comedy is most consistent to the appealing integrity of the engagement, featuring several gut-busting fits of laughter readied by the most caustic brand of English humor delivered by a cartoonishly over-the-top supporting ensemble, truthfully, the film is just as impactful when it revels in the physical intimacy of Colman and Skarsgard’s steamily scintillating dynamic, churning both a connective chemistry and interpretable profoundness to their unapologetically honest interactions that conveys psychological levels to the perceptive disconnect of their magical love, all the while appraising the kind of convicted earnestness to Skarsgard delivering such swoon-worthy dialogue that feels plucked directly from the pages of a Danielle Steele novel. While this will effortlessly attain the faithful attention and instinctual yearning of the women in the audience, specifically as Fisher and Wilson outline the hypocrisies of love’s universally projected meanings, where the conflictual societal ostracizing from the surrounding townsfolk spawn contempt from the seeds of jealousy and insecurity, the directorial duo thrive most prominently with the atmospheric articulating that they accomplish in bringing a lived-in brand of authenticity to such a quaint, old-timey, medieval seaside village, where everything from the costume designs, to the set decoration, to even the versatility of Lol Crawley’s cinematography, renders undivided attention towards the effortlessly attainable placement of each frame, immersing audiences visually with vintage aesthetics that perceptively stretch far beyond the greatest outskirts of the screen that encompasses them, as a result of expansion within the storytelling that takes advantage of so many realistic locations under one distinguished setting. Crawley’s timely aesthetic is matched seamlessly by the sensual visual storytelling that is on full display among the hypersexualized sequences between the fisherwoman and her wicker husband, featuring intimately captured micro-details, such as a ladybug tracing paths along the characters’ fingers in the midday sun, to build the couple’s connective magnetism with more show in the imagery than tell in the dialogue, and when combined with the glowingly golden radiance of their shared moments together contradicting those damply greying moments alongside the superficial townsfolk, there’s an emphasized invigoration factor illustrated passionately that makes their bond feel like an invigorating awakening from within them, allowing the energy and excitement from within her wistful exuberance to transpire accordingly to the transformative emphasis of the fisherwoman’s increasingly colorful wardrobe. If this isn’t enough, the production also readies some of the very best make-up and prosthetics designs of the entire year, but also some impeccably resonating sound designs that constantly flesh out the structural integrity of the man-made character. On the former, the intricate look of the imaginative concept was crafted with a fully practical, wearable wicker suit that was coupled with full-face prosthetic appliances, without anything detrimentally obscuring to take away from the comfortability and expressiveness of the character’s registered emotionality, and the latter, while enabling tactile audio that is incorporated subtly at every movement, embodies enough swishing, swooshing, creaking and crackling to provide a grounding physical weight to such a highly fantastical concept, generating enough delicate friction of the woven materials continuously rubbing together that in turn adds an unexpected layer of vulnerability to the portrayal of the character. That feels like an ideal time to transition over to the gushing praises paid to performances, as Olivia Colman and Alexander Skarsgard deliver extensively in their respectively vulnerable portrayals, with each of them navigating the aforementioned tonal shifts from broad and occasionally raunchy comedy to genuinely moving compassion, as a result of compatible chemistry naturally elicited from every tender touch between them. Colman’s proven comedic timing goes a long way towards fleshing out the accessibility of her character, especially with very little assistance from a wandering mind of a screenplay that fails to prioritize characterization, however her dignified sensitivity during societal ostracizing ultimately endears her empathetically without weaponizing her desires against her, culminating in an emotional evolution that reaches unforeseen levels of confidence, as a result of love’s uplifting energy providing her the kind of hearty happiness that other characters could only dream of. Colman’s emotional transformation is paralleled by Skarsgard’s physical one, but even the impressive feats of his unwavering commitment to craft can’t overshadow the purity and tenderness that encompasses his anything-but-monotonous deliveries, providing a more than formidable emotional anchor for the film, as the wicker man rides the waves of unpredictability in the complex emotions of humanity. As dominant as Colman and Skarsgard are, there’s still plenty of room for Peter Dinklage and Elizbeth Debicki to steal a few scenes along the way, with Dinklage, infusing the village’s outcast with a composing snark and poetically sneering wit that shields his character’s underlying tragic past, while Debicki stands out venomously as the town’s scheming antagonist, evoking an element of unforeseen pity and mesmerizing intensity that produces itself from the jealousy-motivated actions of the character.

NEGATIVES

Though ‘Wicker’ is another noteworthy example of A24’s ambitious impulses towards experimentally thought-provoking cinema, featuring masterclass direction from Fischer and Wilson at the movie’s forefront, creatively it’s a bit dejected by the inconsistencies of their screenplay not always making the most of its meaningful 100-minute runtime, beginning with the imbalance of the movie’s focus leaving the fisherwoman and wicker man feeling like supporting characters in a movie that centers distinctly around their blossoming love story. Considering the entirety of the movie’s characters are referred to by their job titles, instead of given fully functioning names, it already makes it difficult to coherently interpret them as the people underneath those titles, but it’s even harder when the script is constantly substituting our protagonist duo’s arc to instead focus intently on the gossip of the village’s most insecure of townsfolks, and while I understand this desire to fully flesh out a deeper sense of definition within small town psychologies, it does leave Colman’s fisherwoman criminally underdeveloped outside of love’s lingering sentiments, with much of the opening act rushing through some of the crucial development with loneliness that could’ve constructed a grander sense of desperation for the character. It becomes unavoidably evident by the film’s halfway point that the script only utilizes their influential arc whenever the narrative is constructing conflict of the most predictably telegraphed variety, and while I still feel that every single performance of the townsfolk plays to this village feeling like a character of its own within embodying so much authenticity, I wish the film grew more faithfully alongside such an unconventionally fascinating couple, especially considering the advertised raunchiness of their romance feels a bit tame by the extent of the movie’s execution. This leads me to my only other problem with the film, as after one hilariously untamed sex sequence during the opening act that included noises and positions aplenty, the script fails to push the proverbial envelope one step further to utilize any of the bizarreness and memorability of both its creative concept and its generously expressive rating allowance, especially once the movie opts to pluralize the use of its wicker characters. During said instance of repetition, it feels like there’s a crucially underdeveloped element that could’ve inevitably made for a movie of its own, but instead is rushed so inconsequentially to the grander use of its gimmick not fully taking advantage of what was afforded, side-stepping a deeper and much thornier psychological path for its characters and audience.

OVERALL
‘Wicker’ is a steamily sexy and sneakily hearty fantasy fairytale that not only weaves scathing contempt against the hypocrisies assembled with marital expectations, but also an emotional roller-coaster of sensual romance and horny hilarity that constantly keeps the environment enticing. Stitched together by a fabulous foursome of fearless performances and effortlessly authentic production values and technique, the film is another provocatively enchanting example of A24’s consuming of conventions, offering an achingly poetic parable that Danielle Steele would be ravaged by.

My Grade: 8.1 or B+