Sometimes you just need a movie about a woman who commissions a husband made entirely out of wicker, has absolutely insane sex with him, and inadvertently sends an entire medieval village into a collective existential crisis. And honestly? I’m all for it.
Directed by Alex Huston Fischer and Eleanor Wilson, Wicker is a bizarre, charming, surprisingly sweet fantasy rom-com that takes an absurd premise and turns it into a genuinely lovely story about love, loneliness, and challenging societal expectations. I went into this one because I love Olivia Colman, and while she absolutely delivers, I walked away even more impressed by Elizabeth Debicki, who is an absolute powerhouse in this movie.
Colman plays the Fisherwoman, an outcast in a small medieval village where nobody seems to have an actual name and everyone is defined by their occupation. She’s smelly, catches fish for the entire town, and is generally treated like the village’s resident weirdo. So, naturally, she decides to have the local Basketmaker, played by Peter Dinklage, make her a husband. Enter Alexander Skarsgård as the Wicker Husband, a walking, talking, extraordinarily handsome collection of woven plant fibers who might just be the best husband in the entire village.
And that’s where the fun begins.
What I love about this movie is how sincerely it commits to its ridiculous premise. Skarsgård plays the Wicker Husband with this wonderfully understated, almost quaint sensibility. He’s gentle, attentive, helpful around the house, and genuinely happy to do things that make his wife happy. He fixes the roof, tends the garden, and treats his partner like an actual equal. Revolutionary stuff, apparently, for a medieval village where marriage seems to involve putting a collar around a woman’s neck and expecting her to produce children and provide additional labor.
Meanwhile, the Fisherwoman and her new husband are having so much sex that they’re practically destroying their bedroom furniture. The recurring jokes about their bed breaking are hilarious, and the film’s willingness to get downright ridiculous with its sexual humor is one of its biggest strengths. There’s even a wicker baby, which is probably the creepiest thing I’ve seen in a romantic comedy in quite some time. But hey, you have to admire the commitment to the bit.
As their relationship blossoms, the rest of the village starts to get jealous. The women become fascinated by this seemingly perfect husband, while the men cannot understand why he’s so willing to do things for his wife without expecting something in return. Their relationship challenges everything the village considers normal, and suddenly the Fisherwoman, who was once the town’s most obvious outcast, has something everyone else wants.
That’s where the movie’s surprisingly effective commentary comes into play. Beneath all the wicker-related sexual shenanigans, Wicker is about what happens when you stop letting society dictate what love and marriage are supposed to look like. The Fisherwoman and her husband aren’t following the rules because they don’t need to. They’re happy, they respect each other, and they actually enjoy being together. Meanwhile, everyone else seems trapped in miserable relationships built around obligation, ownership, and outdated gender roles.
Skarsgård deserves a ton of credit for making this character work. The concept could have easily been played as one extended joke, but he gives the Wicker Husband a genuine warmth and sincerity that makes the romance believable. He’s funny without trying too hard to be funny, and there’s something genuinely endearing about watching this enormous wicker man navigate the world with such quiet kindness. He’s a different kind of leading man, and Skarsgård understands exactly what the role requires.
But Elizabeth Debicki? Holy shit. She’s throwing heat in this movie.
As the Tailor’s Wife, the daughter of the village doctor and effectively the person who knows everything happening in town, Debicki commands every scene she’s in. She’s respected, influential, and deeply invested in maintaining the village’s social order. Naturally, the Fisherwoman’s unconventional marriage drives her absolutely crazy. Debicki makes her character a fascinating presence, someone whose authority is threatened by the idea that a woman might find happiness without playing by the established rules. She’s also a thoroughly entertaining villain, and Debicki clearly understands how much fun there is to be had with the character. Whenever the movie gives her room to shine, she absolutely takes advantage of it.
And then there’s Colman, who is just naturally hilarious. There’s a reason I went to see this movie in the first place. She has this wonderful ability to make an eccentric character feel completely human, and the Fisherwoman is someone you can’t help rooting for. She’s spent her entire life being treated like an undesirable outsider, and watching her discover a relationship in which she’s genuinely loved is incredibly satisfying. Colman gives the character both the comedic timing and the emotional sincerity needed to make the story work.
That brings me to the movie’s biggest strength and one of its strangest quirks: the worldbuilding. Based on Ursula Wills-Jones’ short story The Wicker Husband, the film naturally expands its source material into a feature-length narrative. I haven’t read the original story, so I can’t speak to how the two compare in detail, but the additions work for me. The filmmakers flesh out the village, give the supporting characters more personality, and build a romantic comedy around a premise that could easily have remained a short, strange fairy tale.
Does the movie explain how a basketmaker creates a wicker man who comes to life and functions like an actual human being? Not really. Does it explain the wicker baby? Not in any way that makes the situation less bizarre. But I honestly didn’t need it to. The movie establishes its own fairy-tale logic and asks you to go along for the ride. And because the performances are so strong and the romance is so sincere, I was more than happy to do just that.
The production design is also fantastic. The medieval village feels lived-in, the costumes are terrific, and the Wicker Husband himself looks incredible. His elaborate woven appearance is a technical achievement in its own right, and the filmmakers deserve credit for making such an outlandish character feel tangible within this world. This is exactly the kind of movie that reminds you how much fun practical craftsmanship and imaginative production design can be. I could absolutely see Wicker getting some awards-season attention in categories like Costume Design and Production Design, particularly for the work that went into creating the Wicker Husband.
As for the cast, I would love to see Colman and Debicki get some awards recognition. They’re both terrific, and Debicki especially surprised me with how much she brings to the movie. Whether the Academy ultimately embraces a strange little fantasy rom-com like this is another question, but the performances are certainly deserving of appreciation.
Ultimately, Wicker is a movie about being different, finding someone who accepts you, and realizing that love doesn’t have to look like everyone else’s. It’s about an outcast who finds happiness in the most unconventional way imaginable, while the people who once ridiculed her suddenly realize that maybe their own relationships aren’t quite so wonderful.
And honestly, there’s something lovely about that.
I watched this with my fiancée, who was also really into it, and we both came away having a great time. It’s funny, weird, sexy, occasionally creepy, and unexpectedly heartfelt. It’s the kind of cozy movie I’d happily recommend for a fall evening when you want something a little different.
Not every movie needs to be grounded in reality. Sometimes you just need a wicker man who understands emotional intelligence better than every other husband in town.
Wicker = 76/100
