“The Wicker Tree” is Unworthy of Its Roots

When I found out a sequel to the original “The Wicker Man” had been made, written and directed by Robin Hardy, director of the original and featuring an appearance by original star and horror legend Christopher Lee, I knew I had to see it.

If your only familiarity with “The Wicker Man” is the abominable, senseless remake with Nicolas Cage, you’re not alone.  Have faith in those who know better and track down the 1973 version with Edward Woodward and Christopher Lee.  It’s developed a cult following and has a reputation for being the “Citizen Kane of horror films” for good reason.  The acting is excellent, the plot is good, it’s full of suspense and surprises, and it’s very, very well done.  I’d probably rate it among the top 10 horror films of all time, maybe in the top 5.

Which is why “The Wicker Tree” is so disappointing.  It’s not a 100% bad film.  It’s just nowhere near as good on any of the levels where “The Wicker Man” was great, and on some levels it’s indeed bad.  To be fair, a movie should be judged on its own merit, not on how it stacks up against what came before.  Sadly, even from that perspective this film is tepid fare at best.

Scottish Texans visiting Scotland

In the film, Beth (Brittania Nicol) and Steve (Henry Garrett) are born-again Christians from Dallas, Texas who volunteer to preach the Good News of Jesus Christ to the wild heathens of Scotland, near the Scots-English border.  Forget Botswana or Borneo or the Inuit peoples of the Arctic Circle, there are souls to be saved in Scotland, where St. Andrew’s cross is on the flag and Christianity took hold early in the first millennium, A.D.

When we first meet Steve, Beth is going to pick him up on the way to church.  Knowing the plot from reading the DVD package, I already thought, “Why the hell are Texans going to Scotland?” which you may have gathered from the sarcasm saturating the preceding paragraph.  But then it all becomes clear when Steve speaks and it’s obvious he’s just  a Scotsman working in Dallas as a cowboy or at least dressed as one.  Either way, clearly they’re going to evangelize in Scotland because that’s where he’s from.

No.

In reality, they’re both supposed to be from Texas and Henry Garrett can’t hold an accent much better than Kevin Costner could in “Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves.” In fact, his entire portrayal of a Texas cowboy, from accent to slightly bow-legged swagger would be a parody if it weren’t just painfully bad.  He looks like a Scotsman on vacation in Cancun with a case of Montezuma’s Revenge.

Brittania Nicol isn’t as bad.  She actually looks like a Southern American girl; curvy and fresh-faced with big blonde hair, and her accent stays true.  What I’m not convinced of is the behavior of her character, which isn’t Nicol’s fault.

Virgins in the land of temptation

A chief wrinkle in the film is that Steve and Beth have taken vows of chastity and intend to stay pure until they’re married.  They even have the silver rings to prove it.  Not unusual, there is a purity trend among Christian youth and they wear such rings.

Problem #1 I had is that the young couple is prone to making out.  A lot.  Quite openly.  My wife grew up in the Bible Belt, so I asked her about this.  She says it happens, and devotion to the purity pledge varies by each couple or individual.  But I have a hard time believing they’d be bold with their PDAs in front of the congregation and their minister.  I made no such pledge and I’d still have a hard time making out with my girlfriend in front of our parish priest or any priest for that matter. It’s just weird.

Problem #2 comes when the couple go to Scotland, and it requires some context to understand the full awkwardness.  This young couple is supposed to be on a two-year mission in Scotland.  Two years.  Almost half the length of Captain Kirk’s original five-year mission into space with the Enterprise.  And they’re so devoted to each other that Beth introduces Steve as “you could say my fiancé’.”

So naturally after they’ve been in-country for one day and they’re both off doing their own thing, when Steve encounters one of the locals skinny dipping, he doesn’t hesitate to drop trou, accept her invitation to join her, and take her to the bareback rodeo yee-haw.  Really?  After 1 day.  The situation isn’t even framed with him being overcome by her beauty, or a fight with Beth, or he’s drunk, or it’s a spell.  He just sees her, she talks to him, he jumps in, they do it.  Then he feels bad.  Whatever.

The village of eternal teenagers

What Beth and Steve don’t know is, well, many things, since the local community leaders very easily question and school them on points of basic theology they haven’t considered or have answers to.  You’d think people sent on a two-year mission would be better prepared.  But what they really don’t know is, the community they’re in has turned to Celtic pagan beliefs because they are suffering from infertility due most likely to the proximity of a nuclear power plant.  As their leader, Sir Lachlan Morrison (Graham McTavish), who also runs the plant, says, “A decrease in births, or even birth defects would be understandable, but not no births at all.”

The entire village is focused on solving the fertility problem, though really only two of them seem to address the issue by having lots and lots of sex, which may be the central problem even more than the power plant.  The rest of the village tends to act like adolescents, listening at the window as the one couple is having sex, and tossing out endless double entendres and chuckling.

Which leads to the intrigue.  Our young Texans are part of the plan.  They’re not the first to come to town to spread the Word.  Many have, and all have been an unwitting part of the pagan ritual to help bring life to the village, first by conceiving a child, then by dying.  In terms of a plot that’s not bad, but the execution is lacking.

Ho-hum, hum-drum, and dumb

We’ve covered pathetic acting, questionable logistics, and characterization.  Now let’s look at pacing and tone.  The movie is 96 minutes long.  The last 10 or 15 minutes are good, with taut suspense, action, and surprises.  I liked that.  You probably would, too.  You just have to sit through 80 other minutes to get there.  80 minutes that start in an American that’s noticeably off before going to Scotland, where not much happens.

Sure, there’s the sex, but it’s nothing special, and there’s no outstanding lobster bisque to balance it out.  There’s a good amount of topless nudity, but nothing shocking or graphic or really very interesting.  Any run-of-the-mill R-rated horror film or comedy is likely to be more shocking, graphic, or interesting.  Try “Waiting” or any of the “Harold and Kumar” films for examples of better uses of nudity.  And really, the snickering and innuendos from the villagers get tiresome if you’re over 21.  If you’re 12, seeing boobies is always exciting, but a 12-year old wouldn’t likely sit through much of the rest of the film to see them.  It would be fast-forward all the way.

Take away the nudity and what do those 80 minutes have?  No violence, no particular terror or suspense, and lackluster characters.

One positive note

Earlier I contrasted the performances of leads Henry Garrett and Britannia Nicol.  That actually can be expanded toward the whole movie.  Everything is forgettable in the film, including the Christopher Lee cameo, except for the performance of Nicol.  She’s convincingly American; her character stays true to herself and her beliefs, even though she’s tempted and tested; and if that’s really her singing, she has a world-class voice.

There is one slip regarding her voice, however.  And it once again indicates that the filmmakers don’t quite get America.  When it’s revealed that Beth was a Country star with a slightly raunchy music video in her past, we get to hear her song and see the video.  Sure, they line dance, but she doesn’t sound country.  Beth sings in high soprano with little to no twang.  It almost looks right, but it doesn’t sound right. I can’t think of any Country star who doesn’t sing alto, and they all have at least a hint of twang.  Missing that is just one more symptom of the film’s fatal disease of not being all wrong, but not being right either.

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