Terrible cult

Wayne 2021-12-30 17:21:10

Since I saw this movie in film class, I really regret it to the extreme, probably the last regret I have done since freshman year. Coming out of the classroom, the sun is shining, but I feel the creeps. I really hate watching horror movies. Why did I not fall asleep while watching the movie this time and saw the ending?
But I have to admit that apart from the ending, the plot hasn't made me feel uncomfortable, at least the plot is very exciting. Why did all the residents of the island, even her mother, say that the girl in the photo is not there at all? Why is there only one rabbit in the girl’s grave? There are also the strange customs on the island, the worship of sex, and the primitive religion, all of which attracted me to watch this movie.
But the ending gave me unspeakable anger in addition to panic and sadness. It turns out that everything is a trap carefully arranged by the residents here, the purpose is to lure this kind police officer to the bait. They ruthlessly used his kindness and responsibilities to make him pursue it on the island. It turned out that he was only asked to make a "sacrifice." The wicker people are burning in the raging fire, the police are crying desperately for Jesus, and the people below are singing and dancing joyfully on the green grass, seeming to be full of happiness and sacredness, not at all because they have deceived a good person. Conscience is disturbed. Looking at this contrasting picture, there is only the word "evil" in my mind. There is no conscience, no humanity, only their so-called gods. Is this religion? Do not! This is a cult! The true religious spirit is philanthropic, compassionate, and self-sacrificing, rather than full of conspiracy and bloodshed like this (of course, this is also the case in medieval Europe, but it really deviates from the religious spirit, otherwise it will not There is a Reformation Movement). I even think that "religion" is not a guise. If the inhabitants of the island are truly pious and truly fear their gods, they should sacrifice themselves to influence their gods, and they should feel glorious and sacred for being a "sacrifice"; they should never take advantage of a complete disbelief. They were a "religious" outsider and put him brutally burned to death forcibly. This evil island conceals the sins of the soul with the cloak of religion and belief.
Maybe I'm used to a beautiful ending, I'm used to an ending where sin can be punished, and I feel particularly uncomfortable with this ending.
But I have never understood what this movie wants to express? Irony of religion? Make people think about the consequences of religious fanaticism?
By the way, Mr. Police Officer is too "cuisine". You can't blame him if you fall into other people's traps, because he is kind and responsible. But he is a trained police officer who dares to investigate what he identified as a "murder" without even carrying a gun. Moreover, it was so caught by a group of people, there was no way to fight back, and being carried on the shoulders could only do a senseless struggle. How could this be a police officer. Suddenly I thought that if I changed to James Bond, I would be able to take out two guns and fall a few down on the last occasion, and then run away, or directly hijack that Lord, at least he would be able to take out a knife at the last moment. The wicker was cut and fled.
After watching this movie, I came up with a strange idea that it is better to have socialist China. This kind of cult will never be allowed to exist, even self-immolation will not work.

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Extended Reading

The Wicker Man quotes

  • Sergeant Howie: Where is Rowan Morrison?

    Lord Summerisle: Sergeant Howie, I think that... you are supposed to be the detective here.

    Sergeant Howie: A child is reported missing on your island. At first, I'm told there is no such child. I-I... I then find that there is, in fact, but she has been killed. I subsequently discover that there is no death certificate. And now I find that there is a grave. There's no body.

    Lord Summerisle: Very perplexing for you. What do you think could have happened?

    Sergeant Howie: I think Rowan Morrison was murdered, under circumstances of Pagan barbarity, which I can scarcely bring myself to believe is taking place in the 20th century. Now, it is my intention tomorrow to return to the mainland and report my suspicions to the chief constable of the West Highland Constabulary. And I will demand a full inquiry takes place into the affairs of this heathen island.

    Lord Summerisle: You must, of course, do as you see fit, Sergeant.

    [ringing a bell]

    Lord Summerisle: Perhaps it's just as well that you won't be here tomorrow to be offended by the sight of our May Day celebrations here.

  • Lord Summerisle: In the last century, the islanders were starving. Like our neighbors today, they were scratching a bare subsistence from sheep and sea. Then in 1868, my grandfather bought this barren island and began to change things. A distinguished Victorian scientist, agronomist, free thinker. How formidably benevolent he seems. Essentially the face of a man incredulous of all human good.

    Sergeant Howie: You're very cynical, my Lord.

    Lord Summerisle: What attracted my grandfather to the island, apart from the profuse source of wiry labor that it promised, was the unique combination of volcanic soil and the warm gulf stream that surrounded it. You see, his experiments had led him to believe that it was possible to induce here the successful growth of certain new strains of fruit that he had developed. So, with typical mid-Victorian zeal, he set to work. The best way of accomplishing this, so it seemed to him, was to rouse the people from their apathy by giving them back their joyous old gods, and it is as a result of this worship the barren island would burgeon and bring forth fruit in great abundance. What he did, of course, was to develop new cultivars of hardy fruits suited to local conditions. But, of course, to begin with, they worked for him because he fed them and clothed them. But then later, when the trees starting fruiting, it became a very different matter, and the ministers fled the island, never to return. What my grandfather had started out of expediency, my father continued out of... love. He brought me up the same way, to reverence the music and the drama and the rituals of the old gods. To love nature and to fear it. And to rely on it and to appease it where necessary. He brought me up...

    Sergeant Howie: He brought you up to be a Pagan!

    Lord Summerisle: A heathen, conceivably, but not, I hope, an unenlightened one.