I'm presently giving thought to an interpretation of The Wicker Man as an analogue of the condition of Nazi Germany, albeit somewhat more subtle than Animal Farm's retelling of the birth of Soviet Russia. The closing scene was the first clue, being so openly an analogue to that of James Whales' Frankenstein (1931) with the difference being that whilst in Frankenstein our sympathies are with the creature, in The Wicker Man we're part of the mob, mindlessly chanting Sumer Is Icumen In as Sargent Howie screams his last. It's a tidy cinematographic equivalent of The Milgram Experiment in that our humanity has effectively been subsumed in respect to a higher moral authority which has been demonstrated to be entirely corrupt. The islanders, like the people of Germany, have been fed an entirely bogus pseudo-religious construct based on the flimsiest of folkloric precedents; they have been rendered docile, manipulated by mere spectacle, and anaesthetised by enforced compliance to the extent that they willingly participate in a murderous sacrifice which is, in actuality, simply a desperate buying of time as the foundations of the aristocratic order of Summerisle begin to crumble.

It's interesting to speculate on what purpose might be served by the clumsy segue from the opening Highland Widow's Lament, as respectfully sung in a traditional manner by Shiela Mackie (who also did the vocal for Willow's Song incidentally) with Northumbrian (!) pipes & chorus, into Paul Gionvanni's sublime though purposefully untraditional setting of Burns' Corn Riggs. There is a lurch of conciousness here between the traditional, and the faux-traditional, the world outside and the world of Summerisle, where Giovanni's increasingly surreal perversions of traditional themes are as twisted as the pagan beliefs of the islanders themselves. A totalitarian state has been contrived from supposed folklore; the customs of the people have been used against themselves; vague symbolism (i.e the may-pole) have become didactic absolutes, and even their own natural bawdiness becomes a moral prison. How else might we interpret the weeping in the erotic night scene? Or else the alarmed & terrified faces of the musicians as they sing Gently Johnny whilst poor Ash Buchanan is being abusively initiated (though I doubt he's complaining) by Willow McGregor in the room above whilst Lord Summerisle utters his chilling, yet beautiful, soliloquy, itself taken from Part 2 of Song of Myself, from Walt Whitman's Leaves of Grass?

Just a thought anyway; it's always been one of my favourite films (along with Frankenstein and Quatermass and the Pit), one that keeps revealing itself on so many different levels. Like The Prisoner, it deals with issues of individuality and mass compliance; unlike the The Prisoner, however, it makes sure sure that the individual in question is as unlikeable as possible, however so innocent he might be. Interesting to note that his innocence is what ultimately qualifies Sargent Howie for sacrifice, and innocence is the central theme of Frankenstein. Fine soundtrack too; a horror musical indeed. For those who don't know it, check this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eSvJgRSiJSM, and for those that do: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HdWY-AMY_zY

(Note: most of the above is from another thread, but it seems to have a place here too, albeit slightly modified!)