2006, Warner Brothers, Dir. Neil LaBute - Starring Nicolas Cage, Ellen Burstyn, Kate Beahan, Frances Conroy, Molly Parker, Leelee Sobieski, Diane Delano, Michael Wiseman, Erika-Shaye Gair, Christa Campbell, Emily Holmes, Zemphira Gosling, Matthew Walker

Hollywood’s Remake-O-Matic 500 is in full-gear with The Wicker Man, with director Neil LaBute of Shape of Things fame taking on the 1975 horror piece. There’s a few things I must argue first. The first is how, despite its horror not being driven by gore and violence and rather by human nature and pagan zeal, this movie does not succeed. The second is why this film required a remake. Obviously I can’t answer the latter, as it’s one of many mysteries of film critics (and curious audience members). Neil LaBute has been accustomed to helming pieces based around the darker things in life, such as what drives people to commit crime and murder. This already is one good reason he was chosen to film - as well as his appreciation for the battle of the sexes. But Wicker Man’s unflinching cynicism, rousing entertainment, and Nic Cage’s performance begin to conflict with the crueler elements of the story. The dialogue doesn’t fit. Some roles don’t fit. The mood’s been set to a pitch-perfect tone, and LaBute’s atmospheric eye is quite trained. But all in all, Wicker Man could have been better.

Officer Edward Malus (Cage) has been recovering from an accident that left him emotionally scarred, as he lost the opportunity to save an innocent girl and her mother from a dangerous car crash. But one fateful day, he receives a letter from a former flame named Willow (Beahan), who asks him to help search for her lost daughter Rowan (Gair). The young girl has somehow disappeared on the mysterious private island of a group of beehive-caring women. Edward treks out to the isolated strange land, only to find some sort of odd conspiracy growing among him. The island is “ruled” by a supposed queen named Summersisle (Burstyn), who - along with the rest of the population - denies the mere existence of Willow’s daughter. But even Willow refuses to tell Edward anything about the island’s rituals, much less the ever-taciturn men who also exist on the island. With a group of dominating females and subservient males closing in around him, Edward begins to realizes he’s part of something much bigger than he imagined.

Nic Cage, as many of his roles go, plays a very likable figure driven to the edge of madness. His aggravation with the villagers’ odd behavior is shared with the audience, and his furious rants and bouts should be enjoyed by audience members. But somehow the role doesn’t seem to fit. The fault does not belong to Cage, but more to LaBute’s occasionally smarmy script. It takes an unrealistically long time for the character’s irritation to really kick in; you’ll wonder how Edward can keep a straight face through all the ignorance he puts up with. Still, Cage’s raving snippets are worthwhile, heralding back to his classic dialogue with Sean Connery in The Rock. Ellen Burstyn does what she’s supposed to do, and that’s to act old and unruly. She’s a workable villain, but her presence is cut too short. I could only have wished there was more contact between her and Cage. Kate Beahan’s character Willow is plain dumb, and her chemistry with Cage is truly pathetic. You’d think a kiss so passionately portrayed would be compensated with an equally passionate romance. She might as well kissed the Wicker Man instead of Cage - at least it would have made it more interesting.

I was turned off by the film’s abrupt ending, but in retrospect, it works. Despite the out-of-place humor (which was appreciated, but could’ve been done without), LaBute’s final product is a faithful, yet startling, remake. Wicker Man’s religious and social undertones are easily noticable, and somewhat arguable even today. But LaBute’s vision is scattered. There is no successful way to combine dark comedy with deeper, violent themes - unless you have some sort of tongue-in-cheek execution. It was hard to really follow along with the story, especially when the audience is laughing like a midnight showing of Snakes on a Plane. Are we supposed to be cheering, or angry? The ending really becomes an instant buzzkill for some, as they expect the happy ending to coincide with the earlier sarcasm. I respect the directions that LaBute wanted to carry the Wicker Man into, but realistically, it doesn’t fit together just right.

For those who appreciate decent horror, Wicker Man will work for the Labor Day weekend. Its artistic quality is brilliant, but the script and acting levels out to just mediocre. But I can still recommend this to you, since it does follow my strict ‘Phil Calabro Horror Meter’: no gurgling white ghosts in closets, and nothing ripped off of a Japanese film.