“Come. It is time to keep your appointment with the Wicker Man.”

Folk horror really is its own beast. Some new entries like The Ritual and Apostle are a little heavier on the gore, but at its heart, folk horror is a journey into the unknown, a challenge of everything we believe and are supposed to believe. The best folk horror movies – like Midsommar, easily the best folk horror movie of all time – come down to a culture clash, the idea of civilized vs. primitive. And they all trace their roots back to The Wicker Man.

Sergeant Howie is looking for a missing girl named Rowan Morrison. An anonymous letter, directed to him specifically, steers his investigation to the west Scottish island of Summerisle. As one can imagine in this kind of movie, Howie is unwelcome. The locals won’t even row a dinghy out to his seaplane until he explains that he’s a cop and they pretty much have to. He gets two kinds of shoulders when asking about Rowan’s whereabouts: cold and shrugged.

This kind of suspicion of outsiders is more or less commonplace in these types of films, but where The Wicker Man really sets itself apart is in the fact that Howie is quite an unlikable protagonist. He’s a staunch Puritan to the point that he’s still a virgin, and he reacts with horror and indignation at many of the isle’s rituals and customs. He had never even heard of these people or their way of life, but he finds room inside himself to be offended that it doesn’t line up with his. Much of The Wicker Man is about the dangers of zealotry, and it’s to the film’s credit that it sees the danger on both sides of the divide. Just because Howie’s Christianity, however extreme, is better understood by the average viewer does not mean it in any way is the correct answer to any question.

The Wicker Man is a British film, and Britain is a country that has been firmly rooted in national pride for centuries. In a way, The Wicker Man is subversive for its time, as it aims a clinical eye on the practice of English colonialism and imperialism. Howie represents a rigid mindset, one that leaves no room for nuance or discussion, and he seeks to imprint it on the citizens of Summerisle. He’s dismayed by their public nudity, their carefree approach to life, because it does not align with this Christian dogma. He threatens to return with more police, and it sounds like a missionary promising to be back with more like him.

Edward Woodward plays Howie and commits admirably. While Howie isn’t exactly likable, there’s an almost childlike simplicity to him that makes him sympathetic. He’s not stupid, he’s just in over his head and has no desire to try to acclimate. His best scenes come opposite Christopher Lee, who plays the island’s potentate, aptly named Lord Summerisle. This is Lee’s favorite performance of his own, and it’s easy to see why. He’s effortlessly charming, that baritone having not yet deepened to a basso profundo, and he and Woodward have a blast antagonizing each other. It’s another way The Wicker Man subverts expectations: this is the villain, with a patently crazy scheme, and for some reason we want to see him succeed.

Summerisle, too, is guilty of the zealotry that this film aims to chronicle. He was the one who painstakingly orchestrated Howie’s presence on the isle, and reveals himself as the author of the letter. He plans to sacrifice Howie in the titular effigy as a way to appease their gods, so their apple crop might grow again. It’s a war of ideologies that will never come to an accord. Sure, Summerisle might want to sacrifice Howie, but sacrifice has been a part of religion for millennia. Woodward gives his best performance when escorted to the wicker man. When he sees it for the first time, Howie collapses into a litany of “Oh no” and “Oh Jesus.” Woodward waited until this scene before letting himself see the wicker man, and his terror seems genuine. This, to Sgt. Howie, is so unbearably wrong that he has no counter to it.

Some things are classics for a reason. The Wicker Man won’t give you nightmares, but it will show you a surprisingly nuanced take on religion, and a self-critical eye pointed at the country it’s about. Plus, one could argue that it birthed one of horror’s most important genres. I think that’s enough to argue for its classic status.

Thursday, 10/1: Phantasm

Friday, 10/2: Frozen

Saturday, 10/3: Suspiria

Sunday, 10/4: Suspiria (2018)

Monday, 10/5: Emelie

Tuesday, 10/6: Castle Freak

Wednesday, 10/7: Session 9

Thursday, 10/8: The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2

Friday, 10/9: We Are Still Here

Saturday, 10/10: The Changeling

Sunday, 10/11: The Bad Seed

Monday, 10/12: Verotika

Tuesday, 10/13: The Legend of Hell House

Wednesday, 10/14: Lake Mungo

Thursday, 10/15: Puppetmaster

Friday, 10/16: Marrowbone

Saturday, 10/17: A Nightmare on Elm Street 4: The Dream Master

Sunday, 10/18: Halloween 4: The Return of Michael Myers

Monday, 10/19: Sweetheart

Tuesday, 10/20: Girl On the Third Floor

Wednesday, 10/21: Behind the Mask: The Rise of Leslie Vernon

Thursday, 10/22: Triangle

Friday, 10/23: Dog Soldiers

Saturday, 10/24: Noroi: The Curse

Sunday, 10/25: Train to Busan

Monday, 10/26: Tales From the Hood

Tuesday, 10/27: Mandy

Wednesday, 10/28: Sometimes They Come Back

Thursday, 10/29: Veronica

Friday, 10/30: The Wicker Man

Saturday, 10/31: Child’s Play

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