October 30, 2026 · Watch the official trailer
Cinema can often be described as a series of adult fairy tales, fictional worlds brought to life through the visual tapestry of moviemaking in ways difficult to replicate with the written word alone.
Stories and novels are frequently adapted to the silver screen to give visual form to what has largely been left to the reader’s imagination. Sometimes, those worlds become so fantastical that they evoke the fairy tales of one’s youth, told through a modern, adult lens.
“Wicker,” written and directed by Alex Huston Fischer and Eleanor Wilson and based on Ursula Wills-Jones’ short story “The Wicker Husband,” is a whimsical, thoughtful medieval fairy tale that evokes both a demure version of “Fifty Shades of Grey” and a modern twist on “The Canterbury Tales.” Its uniquely contained narrative revels in its simplicity.
The film follows a simple, lonely fisherwoman in a small coastal village who feels isolated as its oldest unmarried woman, seemingly unable or uninterested in finding a husband. To get back at the townsfolk who have made her feel so unwelcome, she commissions a basket weaver to make her a wicker husband and his arrival in her life changes the village altogether.
Similar to, but less audacious than, her Academy Award-winning turn in 2018’s “The Favourite,” Olivia Colman is introspective yet gleeful as the fisherwoman. Her ability to convey internal thoughts through her expressions drives the film forward in moments when its subtle emotions aren’t explicitly articulated in dialogue.
Colman plays beleaguered yet impassioned simultaneously, making a character who could easily veer into Ebenezer Scrooge-like proportions sympathetic and compelling. Her performance provides the emotional core of “Wicker,” grounding its increasingly implausible storyline enough for audiences to continue suspending disbelief.
Despite being hidden behind a wicker costume, Alexander Skarsgård finds a simple humanity in the wicker husband, whose behavior feels less robotic than plainly unaware of humanity’s capacity for cruelty.
Skarsgård makes the straightforward compassion he shows the fisherwoman and others he encounters feel authentic. The character could be interpreted as an amalgamation of the Scarecrow and the Tin Man, seemingly lacking both a brain and a heart. Yet “Wicker” strives to show that its unlikely husband may have the biggest heart of all.
Peter Dinklage floats easily in and out of the narrative as the basket weaver who creates the wicker husband, serving as a pseudo-narrator and providing gravitas in key moments that require a scene partner worthy of Colman’s performance. Yet the veteran character actor understands exactly when to get out of the film’s way.
It’s a thoughtful, intentional performance, and Dinklage makes the most considered use of dialogue among the cast, shaping each line with nuanced phrasing that underscores how much of a thinking person’s film “Wicker” truly is.
Elizabeth Debicki is powerful as the film’s requisite, though relatively minor, antagonist. Her tailor’s wife projects an external self-assurance that conceals the quiet malaise of a woman known primarily through her relationship to her husband.
Central to the film’s success is its masterful production design, most notably the head-to-toe, fully movable suit Skarsgård wears as the wicker husband. Encased in a sort of wicker basket, the actor still conveys emotion and nuance through his facial expressions, especially his eyes, which become even more striking for how aesthetically different they are from the rest of his body.
The sound design accentuates his movements with creaking wood, further selling the effect. The practical costuming is exceptional and worthy of awards season notice, especially given how easily the filmmakers could have relied on lesser computer-generated imagery.
The unique style of “Wicker” extends to its larger production design, with its village setting created in Hungary. Each location further immerses audiences in the world of a small seaside town, while the vintage cinematography evokes 1970s filmmaking and grounds this fantastical dramedy.
Though unlikely to become a major awards season contender, “Wicker” is the sort of smaller, independent piece of art that audiences will likely miss theatrically, only to discover it later and wonder why they never heard about it when they had the chance to see it on the big screen.
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