Wicker (2026)

The real-world patriarchy is doing fine even in Wicker's fantastical town, where relationships are nothing more than an obligation. Every new maiden is destined to marry, brides wear a collar around their neck instead of exchanging rings, and anything a wife says to her partner goes in one ear and out the other. The men don't know what they don't know, and their spouses mostly do their bidding.

The targeted mockery is just part of another day, not only for all the women, but mostly towards the Fisherwoman (Olivia Colman). As the resident spinster, she lives on the outskirts, only coming through town to sell her catches of the day and becomes the object of humiliating jokes from her age, what she smells like, and the odds of her never settling down. It seems the only way to find someone worth loving, and to be loved in return, is to start from scratch. She shoots her shot requesting the basketmaker (Peter Dinklage) to make her a husband. In thirty days time, much to her surprise, the Wicker Husband (Alexander Skarsgard) is standing at the altar - handsome, kind, and ready to tie the knot without question.

As the outliers, the Fisherwoman and Wicker Husband are easy to root for. After all, Olivia Colman and Alexander Skarsgard have curated entire careers acting outside the box, which makes the casting sell itself. Their fictional pairing also simply adores each other. The Wicker Husband dotes on the Fisherwoman - in the bedroom, with her business, and taking care of the household. "Happy life, happy wife" can be considered an outdated expression depending on the context, but there's truth to it here because him being helpful makes her happy, so it makes him happy. There is no evil plan behind his intentions or secret magic to why their relationship works - they talk and listen, and try to trust one another. Even their most subtle displays of affection become an example of what the rest of the town is missing. During a traditional dance at another tragic wedding, where the husbands glide their wives into headlocks, Fisherwoman and Wicker Husband do not know the steps and make up their own - wrapping each other in their arms, dancing like no one's watching. 

Except everyone is watching. Carrie Fisher's famous quote, "Resentment is like drinking poison and waiting for the other person to die," rings true with almost all the villagers, whose juvenile ignorance only strengthens their judgement. They're all consumed by jealousy over how Fisherwoman could land such a husband, and how the husband isn't like all the others. One of their main tormentors, the Tailor's Wife (Elizabeth Debecki), attempts to build agency outside of her Doctor Father (supplied by a wonderfully surprising cameo that won't be spoiled here) and Tailor Husband. To no avail, she is always met with minimization and ridicule, and she has to continue upping the ante in trying to rip Fisherwoman apart simply because they have something she doesn't. Their love becomes the ultimate threat to her sense of self and drives most of the conflict, while most of the men either shrug or mock away their wives' newfound obsession.

Much to social media's chagrin, the film's not overly concerned in showing more wicker nudity than what is called for. For the most part, Wicker (adapted by Ursula Wills's short story The Wicker Husband) aims to tell a fable about not letting jealousy destroy you and uses misogyny as a vehicle that tears down both men and women. It's a worthy lesson, especially for a film targeted for adult audiences. But the further the story moves along, the script relies on crudeness as an immature crutch, not necessarily as a method to explore its hetero-centric ideas. As the plot drags further away from deconstructing traditional rules in marriages, it doesn't leave the supporting ensemble with much else to do except to be consumed about what happens inside the bedroom - theirs and everyone else's. Most of the villagers lack an active arc to the point that the conflict hinges too much on what Tailor Woman's schemes - the dialogue and jokes meander in circles, eventually losing their sting and leveling out the brevity. 

Writer and director duo Alex Huston Fischer and Eleanor Wilson try ardently to attain everything in Wicker - an erotic fantasy between a human woman and a wicker man; a satire on the patriarchy; a comedic modern adaptation of a fable; a dark fantasy for adults. When the film explores Fisherwoman and Wicker Husband's actual romance, and their differences, is where Colman and Skarsgard are allowed to shine. Though the film has its own version of Beauty and the Beast's Gaston burning it all down, a good portion of the second and third act takes a predictable time to reach a boiling point. By the end, the film unfortunately doesn't offer something genuinely new to say about achieving real autonomy, which would've been a real kinky achievement in an otherwise sanitized world.

Rating: ★★1/2☆☆