‘Wicker’ review: A well-weaved fairytale for adults

An outcast fisherwoman marries a man made out of basket material in Wicker, a deliciously off-the-wall fairytale for adults.

“Olivia Colman marries Alexander Skårsgard, who is made of wicker” is a premise that will not sell for everyone. But if each word of that sentence sparks curiosity, you’ve already succumbed to half the charm of Wicker. It’s a kooky love story made with as much care as a well-crafted basket. Based on a short story by Ursula Wills-Jones, Wicker dares to imagine a fairytale for adults.

Everyone in the unnamed village is known by their job title, and women’s names change upon marriage. Elizabeth Debicki‘s Tailor’s Wife was known as Doctor’s Daughter before her marriage, for one. But Fisherwoman (Colman) has always been Fisherwoman. Reeking of briny fishiness due to her occupation, she’s older than the expected marriageable age of those in the village. Judgment of the Fisherwoman’s singleness and odor run as rampant as the judgment of Belle’s bookishness in the village in Beauty and the Beast.

After yet another marriage of a young village girl to an emotionally dissociated groom (all the men in the village seem driven by sex but not by emotional intelligence), the women of the village ridicule Fisherwoman for her singleness. Having had enough, the Fisherwoman requests that the local Basket Weaver (Peter Dinklage) make her a husband. If Basket Weaver is ruffled by the unorthodox request, he doesn’t show it. He orders the Fisherwoman to meet him at the church in a month. And a month later, the Wicker Husband (Skårsgard) is ready to marry.

Beauty and the Beast like you’ve never seen it before.

Image Credit: Black Bear Pictures

Here, Wicker surprisingly ceases to be about Fisherwoman and more about Fisherwoman’s marriage’s impact on the village. The unconventional bride and groom, of course, draw suspicion from the village. Though clearly inspired by Beauty and the Beast, in which writer/directors Alex Huston Fischer and Eleanor Wilson imagine a hard-R version of that story, Wicker weaves itself into the tale of an unchangeable town met with an earth-shattering power shift.

Fisherwoman and Wicker Husband’s thriving sex life and passionate, selfless romance are objects of curiosity for the hardworking women and their largely clueless husbands. The men of the town range from doltish to dumbfounded. First, they’re amazed that their wives would be spellbound by Wicker Husband, then seeking his advice on how to spice up their own lives. In other words, the appearance of a basket husband turns everyone into, well, basket cases.

A more straightforward, less imaginative Wicker would put Fisherwoman and Wicker Husband at the center of every scene. It might center on the bewildering nature of their love. While Wicker is certainly about that, it’s more about the revolutionary impact of their love on the town. Every woman, from Ella Bruccoleri‘s Bakerwoman to Debicki’s roost-ruling tailor’s Wife realizes her life can be enriched by a partner who actually cherishes and listens to her. The men, inheriting generations of complacency, have to decide to be active partners or not.

A fairytale that flips the script on its subject.

Image Credit: Black Bear Pictures

The concept of a fairytale for adults is nothing new; Guillermo del Toro has that sub-genre on lock. But it’s delightful to see one that takes its target audience as seriously as its setting without losing sight of its wonderful quirkiness. Anna Meredith’s score is jaunty and fantastical. Renátó Cseh’s production design looks like Fantasyland grounded in tangible textiles, using slate and hay hues rather than eye-popping pinks or purples. It’s an immersive experience for the senses. Wicker leans into the insanity of its premise as the runtime builds. Absurd injuries and outlandish plot developments becoming cackle-worthy without collapsing its charmingly-assembled world.

The earnestness with which Wicker conducts itself keeps the whole thing from leaning too absurdist even at its most absurd. Colman puts on a front of being unshaken by the villagers’ deftly-dealt insults. Their criticism of her singleness changes into criticism of her husband, and Colman has the subtlety to show that their criticism has hit a nerve. Skårsgard’s Wicker Husband possesses rudimentary knowledge of how the world works, but has a genuine desire to make Fisherwoman happy. Casting directors Kharmel Cochrane, Adél Csemez, and Gréti Fellner assemble a crew of both familiar faces (Richard E. Grant appears, though far too briefly, as Doctor) and new, promising actors (like Bruccoleri, herself the star of this year’s The Other Bennet Sister).

The bottom line.

Wicker‘s premise will put off those uninclined toward whimsy, but those who give it a chance will find something truly enchanting. There’s not a wooden moment in it. It’s a fairytale weaved with love, humor, and an appreciation for off-the-wall storytelling and practical sets and effects. Lean into Wicker‘s sturdy arms, and you’ll fall in love, too.

Wicker hits select theaters Friday, October 23. Watch the trailer below.

Images courtesy of Black Bear Pictures.

Claire Di Maio

Claire was once asked in elementary school why her go-to question was always, “Watch anything good lately?” It’s still her go-to question, because she loves hearing what other people are passionate about. She often sacrifices sleep in the hopes that she will one day clear her to-watch and to-read lists (a futile effort so far).