It became the textbook ‘cult’ movie, with word of its charms spread from fan to fan, in an analogue age, via whispered rumour and fanzines, back when your only chance of catching a forgotten film was if it turned up on telly late one night. Those in the know still argue over the running times and respective merits of the ‘short’, ‘medium’ and ‘long’ Wicker Man. Cut into more versions than anyone can keep track of, the film has a production history that’s shrouded in mystery and confusion. Its cause was taken up by a passionate band of fiercely dedicated aficionados, initially in the USA, then back in Blighty, all proudly wielding its undeserved neglect like a banner. A legend grew around The Wicker Man, one perhaps more complex than the ingenious narrative at its heart. It wouldn’t have been surprising if – like many other difficult-to-label British features that litter that awkward decade – it had quietly faded into obscurity but it didn’t.
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