Clintborari

This folk-horror musical feels strangely entrancing and vast, as if the entire island breathes alongside its characters.

The mingled Scottish, and English accents add an authenticity that makes the world feel lived-in rather than staged.

What makes The Wicker Man stand out as a masterpiece is its sheer plausibility. There are no jump scares, no obvious monsters, and nothing overtly supernatural. The terror comes from the unknown, from pagan tradition carried out with unwavering conviction, and from the communal certainty of a people whose beliefs sharply contradict those of the outsider sent to investigate them.

The film's shanties and folk songs are vulgar, catchy, and eerily brazen; they give the island its unsettling pulse. From the phallic maypole dance taught to schoolchildren, to the women dancing naked around a fire, the movie blends witchcraft, pagan fertility rites, and unashamed sexuality into its fabric. These moments are shocking for Sergeant Howie, who arrives as a devout Christian virgin determined to uphold morality in a place that seems to have abandoned his version of it.

Christopher Lee, as Lord Summerisle, is magnificent and well-celebrated for his role, but credit must also go to the island itself. The cottages, the village pub, the Scottish Highlands, the graveyard overlooking jagged rocks and roaring sea, all create a lush yet unsettling palette. And looming over all of it is the foreboding Wicker Man itself, the symbol of the island's ultimate devotion.

There's a knowing twist at the end, but still one that makes you swell with emotion and think long after the film ends. Freedom of choice weaves throughout the story: Howie resists Willow's seductive attempts, determined to keep his purity and faith, and that very conviction leads him toward his fate. The film becomes a moral dilemma, asking whether steadfast belief is strength or fatal blindness.

Some of my favourite scenes are the pub sequences. They feel warm, homely, and authentically British. Almost like a safe haven. In contrast, the bright fields of the island look like paradise yet conceal something deeply wrong. The further the story goes, the more we see Howie's stubbornness: he's earnest, professional, pristine in his do-gooder ways, but utterly unable to adapt or show the openness that might have saved him. His horror at the locals' customs blinds him to the danger forming around him.

The sword dance, the animal masks, the elaborate costumes, and the ancient belief in human sacrifice to ensure the blessing of the sun, all of it contributes to the film's mesmerizing, uncanny atmosphere. Even the simple detail of the island's crops failing, broad beans turning turquoise, orchards dying, becomes part of the ominous logic that leads to the final ritual.

Willow is hypnotically photogenic, and it's surprising to learn the Swedish actress couldn't use her own voice; another actress dubbed her, yet the performance still blends seamlessly into the film's tone. It is also documented that some of her naked dancing scenes were also, not all of her figure.

The script is extraordinarily well-written: thoughtful, provocative, and endlessly discussed even today. The idea grew from the novel Ritual, and from that seed The Wicker Man blossomed, later inspiring Ari Aster's Midsommar. While Midsommar is more gruesome and detailed, it wouldn't exist without the path this film paved.

Even smaller touches, like the hares and symbols littered across the island, contribute to the unsettling folklore. The director's cut, restoring scenes once butchered from the theatrical release, feels especially complete, every moment adding rich texture.

I rarely hand out 10-star ratings, but even after countless modern folk-horror films, the bewitching hymns, the eerie eroticism, the entrancing landscapes, and the shocking clarity of its ending secure The Wicker Man will be one of my favourite films for years to come.

10/10.

Sorry, Dwayne Johnson, but Kevin Sorbo and Lucy Lawless roaming through that lush New Zealand landscape will forever be my childhood, my legend and my myth, when it comes to Hercules and the Warrior Princess.

This version isn't terrible, and to be fair, there really isn't anyone else I could imagine as a modern-day Hercules. Johnson has the physical presence and charisma to carry the role. However, this film isn't as soul-searching or emotionally satisfying as some of the previous interpretations.

It trades that mythic, emotional depth for a more grounded, gritty approach , one where Hercules' legendary labors are treated as stories told about him rather than feats of literal godhood.

That said, there are plenty of positives worth appreciating. Hercules' band of merry men, 'ahem' sorry, mercenaries who fight for gold, are quirky, likeable, and surprisingly memorable. The casting was fantastic, and they really got these characters right. Each companion has strengths, weaknesses, and a clear role within the group, and while we don't get massive backstories (aside from glimpses into Hercules' trauma), their personalities carry the film.

Ingrid Bolsø Berdal's Atalanta stands out as Hercules' deadly, grounded protector, sharp, composed, powerful and reliable in every battle.

Ian McShane brings a wonderfully odd mix of humor and fatalism to Amphiaraus, whose predictions of his own death become running gags with surprising emotional beats.

John Hurt's Lord Cotys is quietly scheming and calculated, embodying the political tension at the heart of the story.

Rufus Sewell as Autolycus adds charm with his knife-throwing skills and witty quips, while Aksel Hennie's Tydeus, my personal favourite, communicates entire emotional arcs without speaking a word.

Rebecca Ferguson, known for Vikings and Doctor Sleep, appears as Ergenia, and despite some late-film revelations, she still fits the role of either wronged partner or subtle mastermind depending on how you interpret her.

As the story unfolds, Hercules is forced to confront the truth behind his legend and face the demons of his past, a confrontation that ultimately brings him the closure he's long needed. It's one of those rare action films that actually improves the longer it goes, and by the final act, I found myself wanting even more.

While it may not be a masterpiece or utterly spellbinding, the visuals, direction, and battle sequences are engaging and varied enough to keep your attention for the long run.

6/10.