Wicker (2026)

I cried twice at a movie where Olivia Colman marries a basket.

I’m not an expert in monster romance. I can definitely appreciate a horny movie, though, and Wicker charmed me way more than I expected. It’s so much sweeter and lighter than what I’m used to. Both times I cried, it was over Olivia Colman’s Fisherwoman not believing she’s worthy of being loved like this.

Wicker is an indictment of our modern society, and I love that it doesn’t crank things up to 11 the way The Handmaid’s Tale does with a fascist patriarchy. It takes our exact culture and twists it a little. Instead of exchanging wedding rings, couples exchange wedding collars. The men are defined solely by their jobs: the Butcher, the Baker, the Innkeeper. The women are referred to by their husbands’ jobs, and the one woman named for her own trade is the one the whole village mocks. Taking our own traditions and spinning them a half turn is such an interesting way to get people to rethink the originals.

Into this village walks the Wicker Husband, woven by Peter Dinklage’s Basket Weaver, and he does everything the men around him aren’t doing for their wives. He fixes the roof, tends the garden and mends the bed they broke on their wedding night. Alexander Skarsgård plays him through a mask, with nothing but his eyes, a little bit of his mouth and a very stiff body, and it works. The village greets him with fear and jealousy, and the husbands sulk at the inn. He should be an inspiration to them.

It’s a simple fairy tale, a very funny, sweet, charming popcorn film, and it’s extremely effective. A story this digestible can change mainstream opinions in a way a sloggy, trauma-filled nightmare romance never could. I’m curious how it goes over with normies, and I’m very interested to see the conservative response. I’d wholeheartedly recommend it, especially to romance lovers.

I’ve been trying to think of another film like this one, and I can’t. The closest I get is Twilight, and in that kind of monster romance the woman must be punished for wanting pleasure. Bella’s half-vampire pregnancy nearly kills her. In Wicker, society judges the Fisherwoman for wanting him, and Colman plays her as an older horny woman with something missing inside of her, unibrow and all. The movie never punishes her for it. The punishment goes to the Butcher, who keeps his young wife locked in the basement, wins the blackthorn bride of his own.

What actually threatens the marriage is the Fisherwoman’s own doubt. The Tailor’s Wife (Elizabeth Debicki) plants a rumor, and the Fisherwoman believes it, because some part of her never believed someone like him would choose her. Her hurt and abandonment and skepticism are where I lost it. I think all of us struggle with believing we’re worthy enough to be loved by someone like the Wicker Husband.

We should strive for that kind of love, reach for it, and not put up with anything less.

Stray thoughts:

• Horny cinema is so back in 2026.
• You see full wick in Wicker!

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