Wicker (2026) Movie Review: A Beautifully Bizarre Exploration of Loneliness, Social Exile, and the Perfection of a Woven Mate

Wicker is a 2026 genre-defying masterpiece directed by the visionary duo Alex Huston Fischer and Eleanor Wilson, who also co-wrote the script alongside Ursula Wills. Produced by a powerhouse collaboration including Escape Plan Productions, Lobo Films, and South of the River Pictures, the film had its world premiere at the Eccles Theater in Park City during the Sundance Film Festival on January 24, 2026. This is a story that refuses to be boxed into a single category, effortlessly floating between romantic comedy, dark fantasy, and speculative science fiction.

The film stars the incomparable Olivia Colman as a social pariah known simply as the Fisherwoman, alongside Alexander Skarsgård as her handcrafted spouse. Set in a seaside village that feels plucked from a grim, medieval storybook, the premise follows an outcast woman who, tired of being the target of her neighbors' mockery, decides to commission a husband from a mysterious basket weaver (Peter Dinklage). It is a film that matters because it dares to ask what we truly want from a partner and whether a manufactured ideal is more "human" than the flawed people surrounding us. It is a bold, smelly, and strikingly beautiful piece of art that marks a high point for independent cinema this year.

Story and Screenplay: Weaving a Fable Out of Straw and Heartbreak

The narrative quality of Wicker is built on the foundation of a dark folklore tale. It doesn’t waste time with unnecessary world-building, instead dropping us directly into the mud and brine of the Fisherwoman’s life. The structure is largely linear, following her from the initial act of "ordering" her husband to the complicated reality of living with him. However, the film is less interested in the mechanics of magic and more focused on the psychological impact of being an outcast. The screenplay finds an insolent sense of humor in the absurdity of the situation, yet it never mocks the protagonist’s yearning for connection.

In terms of pacing, the film starts with a vibrant, rhythmic energy as we see the Fisherwoman navigate the hostility of her village. There is a tactile joy in watching her interact with Peter Dinklage’s character as they "design" her perfect man. However, the rhythm does encounter a bit of a hurdle in the second act. As the initial novelty of the wicker husband wears off, the script stalls slightly, searching for a way to escalate the tension. Some of the choices made by the Fisherwoman during this middle section—specifically her sudden shifts in trust—can feel like they serve the needs of the plot rather than the internal logic of the character. Despite these minor structural flaws, the script remains highly original, using its bizarre central metaphor to explore timeless themes of fidelity, social jealousy, and the female gaze.

Acting and Characters: A Masterclass in Mangy Melancholy and Silent Strength

Olivia Colman gives a performance that is nothing short of transformative. She leans into the "mangy" nature of her character with a fearless commitment, portraying a woman who has been so thoroughly rejected by society that she has stopped trying to hide her rough edges. There is a deep, resonant sadness in her eyes that Colman balances with a sharp, defensive wit. She makes the Fisherwoman’s decision to buy a husband feel like an act of radical self-preservation rather than a pathetic whim.

Alexander Skarsgård faces an incredible challenge playing the Wicker Husband, and he succeeds by doing more with a look or a subtle tilt of the head than most actors do with a monologue. He manages to be handsome and reserved, avoiding the trap of playing the character as a mere prop. The chemistry between Colman and Skarsgård is unexpectedly tender. Their early scenes together are filled with a quiet, discovery-based romance that feels remarkably genuine.

The supporting cast provides the necessary friction to make the central relationship pop. Peter Dinklage is excellent as the Basket Weaver, bringing a sense of ancient, weary magic to the role. Elizabeth Debicki, playing the Tailor’s Wife, serves as the primary social antagonist. She embodies the "stuffy and narrow-minded" nature of the village with a chilling, polished elegance that contrasts perfectly with Colman’s grit. While the villagers are often depicted as a monolithic force of judgment, the individual performances make the community feel like a living, breathing obstacle to the protagonist's happiness.

Direction and Technical Aspects: Constructing a World Where the Impossible Feels Tactile

The vision provided by Alex Huston Fischer and Eleanor Wilson is one of meticulous, handcrafted beauty. They have created a world that feels "wondrous and bizarre," yet remarkably physical. The cinematography captures the seaside village with a palette that feels both cold and inviting, highlighting the textures of the environment from the spray of the ocean to the intricate weaves of the wicker husband. The visual composition often places the Fisherwoman on the fringes of the frame, visually reinforcing her status as an exile until her new husband arrives to fill the space beside her.

One of the most impressive technical feats is the production design, specifically the creation of the Wicker Husband himself. The filmmakers avoided the "boxy" or overly mechanical looks of past cinematic artificial beings. Instead, they landed on a design that feels organic and attractive, somewhere between a living statue and a high-end craft project. The editing by the team keeps the story moving, though it can't quite disguise the narrative lull in the middle. However, the visual storytelling is so strong that even when the dialogue slows down, the imagery—such as the contrast between the wicker man's stillness and the frantic movements of the village busybodies—carries the weight of the message.

Music and Atmosphere: The Sound of the Sea and the Creak of the Woods

The atmosphere of Wicker is thick with the scent of salt and the sound of creaking wood. The sound design plays a crucial role in grounding the fantasy elements. You can almost hear the subtle sounds of the wicker husband as he moves, a dry, rustling noise that reminds you of his origins without making him feel like a monster. This audio detail enhances the experience by making the "magical" husband feel like a physical part of the world.

The score and soundtrack contribute to a mood that is dark, strange, and ultimately storybook-like. It avoids the swelling, sentimental strings of a typical romance, opting instead for a more atmospheric and sometimes unsettling tone that matches the "insolent" humor of the film. The audio landscape effectively mirrors the Fisherwoman’s internal state, transitioning from the chaotic, overlapping voices of the judgmental townspeople to a more serene, focused soundscape when she is alone with her creation. It creates a sense of intimacy that makes the viewer feel like a silent observer of a very private, very strange miracle.

Strengths and Weaknesses

Strengths

• Olivia Colman’s Lead Performance: Her ability to play a "smelly outcast" with such dignity and nuance is the heart of the movie.
• Innovative Character Design: The Wicker Husband is a triumph of production design, avoiding clichés to create something truly unique and handsome.
• Thematic Depth: The film offers a profound commentary on the nature of companionship and the cruelty of social exclusion.
• Visual Identity: The medieval-esque seaside setting is captured with a gritty, beautiful realism that makes the fantasy elements feel grounded.
• Dark Humor: The script successfully navigates a tonal tightrope, delivering laughs that are as sharp as they are strange.

Weaknesses

• Second Act Pacing: The narrative momentum slows down significantly in the middle, feeling a bit repetitive before the finale.
• Character Logic: The Fisherwoman’s sudden shifts in trust toward the end feel more like a script requirement than a natural character evolution.
• Supporting Character Depth: While well-acted, the village women can feel like two-dimensional archetypes of "mean neighbors" at times.
• Moral Ambiguity: The "moral lesson" of the fable feels a bit flimsy or "made of wicker" compared to the strength of the film’s first half.

Final Verdict: A Sturdy Romance for Those Who Prefer Their Fairytales a Little Frayed

Rating: 4.5/5 stars

Wicker is a rare achievement in modern cinema, a film that is unapologetically weird and deeply sincere at the same time. It takes a premise that could have easily been a one-note joke and turns it into a hauntingly beautiful meditation on loneliness. While it isn't a "perfect" movie due to some late-stage script conveniences and a sagging middle, its flaws are easily forgiven in light of its immense creativity and the powerhouse acting on display. It is the kind of movie that lingers in your mind long after the credits roll, much like the smell of the sea on a cold morning.

This film is a must-watch for fans of elevated folk horror, dark fairytales, or anyone who enjoys seeing a legendary actress like Olivia Colman push herself into new, unglamorous territory. Those who appreciate the works of directors who prioritize atmosphere and visual metaphor will find much to love here. However, viewers who prefer straightforward, fast-paced plots or traditional romantic tropes may find the "insolent humor" and the bizarre nature of the central relationship a bit too off-putting. If you are willing to embrace the grime and the oddity, you will find Wicker to be one of the most rewarding and original cinematic experiences of 2026.

I highly recommend seeking this out on the largest screen possible to fully appreciate the tactile production design and the evocative soundscape that brings this strange, woven world to life.