Wicker: A Love Story About Being Seen, Being Loved, and One Very Memorable Wicker Dick

Movie Review | Spoiler-Free(ish)

I went to see Wicker last night, and I have to say, I absolutely loved it. I went in expecting a quirky, unconventional romance, and what I got was something so much more thoughtful, emotional, funny, and surprisingly beautiful.

First, let’s get something out of the way. I have been reading sentient-object romance for years. This is not some strange new concept to me, and I certainly don’t need anyone to explain why a woman might fall in love with something that isn’t technically human. Romance readers have been exploring love beyond the conventional for a long time, and Wicker understands something that I think gets lost when people dismiss these stories as weird or ridiculous. The unusual love interest isn’t necessarily the point. It’s what that relationship allows us to explore about humanity, connection, and love.

And that is where Wicker really shines.

At its heart, this movie is about the energy, kindness, and love we put into the world and what we receive in return. There is something incredibly powerful about the idea that the love you give should be reflected back to you. Not necessarily in grand gestures or extravagant declarations, but in the simple act of someone seeing you, appreciating you, and choosing you exactly as you are.

That message runs throughout the movie, and I think it’s what makes this story so much more than an unconventional romance.

Olivia Colman was absolutely phenomenal. She gave her whole heart to this role, and you could feel it in every scene. There is a vulnerability to her performance that makes you understand exactly what her character is missing and why the connection she develops matters so much. She brings humor, longing, frustration, tenderness, and an incredible amount of humanity to a story that could have easily leaned too far into absurdity.

And Alexander Skarsgård as the Wicker Man? Wonderful. Absolutely wonderful.

There is something fascinating about a character whose understanding of love isn’t weighed down by the expectations, social hierarchies, and emotional baggage that humans seem determined to drag into every relationship. His words of love and affirmation are some of the most meaningful parts of the film. They aren’t necessarily complicated or poetic, but they speak to what I think so many people genuinely want from a partner.

To be appreciated. To be desired. To be told they matter. To be loved without constantly having to prove they’re worthy of that love.

Sometimes we make love so much more complicated than it needs to be, and this movie does a beautiful job of reminding us that genuine affection, kindness, and affirmation can be incredibly powerful.

Also, without spoiling anything, can we just take a moment to acknowledge the WICKER DICK? WOW. That’s it. That’s the commentary. Romance readers, you know exactly why I needed to mention it.

One of my favorite creative choices in the movie was how people were identified by their occupations or their relationships to someone else’s occupation. The tailor’s wife, the bottle washer, the doctor. It was such a clever way to establish the social structure of this world and how people assign value to one another. It also reinforced one of the movie’s bigger messages: Your job, your title, your social standing, or your perceived importance doesn’t make you more deserving of love, respect, or happiness than anyone else. Just because someone has a prestigious profession or a position of influence doesn’t mean they’re a better person than someone whose work society considers less important. And just because someone doesn’t fit into the role the world has assigned them doesn’t mean they deserve to be overlooked or dismissed.

There is a real commentary here about class, judgment, and the way communities decide who matters. I loved that the film was willing to explore those ideas without losing the humor and heart of the story.

And speaking of the doctor, please, for the love of everything, do not ever call that man for me. EVER.

The pacing was another standout. I never felt like the movie was dragging or rushing to get somewhere. It allowed the relationships and the larger themes to develop naturally, giving the emotional moments room to breathe while still keeping the story entertaining. That balance is not always easy to accomplish, especially in a movie that moves between romance, comedy, social commentary, and some genuinely bizarre moments.

The filmmakers seemed to understand exactly what kind of story they wanted to tell, and they trusted the audience to go along for the ride.

And then there was the wicker baby. Listen. I can embrace a sentient wicker love interest. I can appreciate the romance, the intimacy, and even the unconventional anatomy. But that baby? CREEPY AS FUCK.

That thing is going to be living rent-free in my nightmares for the foreseeable future. There was a very distinct moment when I went from completely invested in this beautiful, strange love story to wondering what fresh horror I had just witnessed.

I am still not over it.

But even with that little nightmare fuel, I genuinely think there is something in Wicker for almost everyone. If you love unconventional romance, there is plenty here to enjoy. If you appreciate excellent acting, Olivia Colman and Alexander Skarsgård deliver. If you enjoy stories that use humor and absurdity to examine bigger societal issues, there is a lot to unpack. And if you just want to watch something completely different from the usual Hollywood romance, this movie absolutely delivers.

What stayed with me most wasn’t the novelty of a woman falling in love with a wicker man. It was the reminder that love shouldn’t be conditional on status, appearance, usefulness, or what other people think you deserve.

We spend so much time talking about what makes someone a desirable partner, but perhaps the better question is how that person makes us feel. Do they see us? Do they listen? Do they offer kindness without expecting something in return? Do they make us feel worthy of love simply because we exist?

For all its weirdness, Wicker manages to ask some incredibly human questions. And maybe that’s why I loved it so much. Underneath the humor, the unusual romance, and yes, the wicker dick, is a story about the very ordinary human desire to be loved, valued, and accepted.

The love we put into the world matters. And we all deserve to have that love returned.

Wicker was funny, strange, heartfelt, wonderfully acted, and far more meaningful than I expected. I walked away entertained, emotionally satisfied, and with a few things to think about. And unfortunately, with the image of that wicker baby permanently burned into my brain. Absolutely worth seeing.

From a Romance Reader Who Loves Sentient-Object Romance

As someone who has been reading romance for years, including sentient-object romance, I want to talk about this movie from that perspective for a moment. Because while some audiences might see the premise of Wicker and think it’s strange, ridiculous, or even a little shocking, romance readers know better. We’ve been reading and loving stories about unconventional relationships, nonhuman love interests, and seemingly impossible connections for years. This isn’t new territory for us, and frankly, some of us have read much weirder.

What I loved about Wicker is that it doesn’t treat the romance as a joke. Yes, there is humor in the absurdity of the situation, but the actual relationship is given the same emotional weight and respect as any traditional love story. And that matters. One of the things I have always appreciated about sentient-object and monster romance is how these stories strip away our conventional ideas of attraction and force us to examine what actually makes a relationship meaningful.

When you remove the expectation that a romantic partner must look, behave, or even exist in a traditionally human way, you’re left with the emotional foundation of the relationship. The connection, the communication, the desire, the intimacy, and the willingness to love someone exactly as they are. And isn’t that what romance readers are ultimately looking for?

I also think Wicker understands something that readers of unconventional romance have known for a long time: sometimes the most emotionally available, affirming, and genuinely loving romantic partner in a story isn’t human. There is something wonderfully revealing about a wicker man being able to offer the tenderness, respect, and emotional connection that the humans around him struggle to provide.

For me, the movie wasn’t asking audiences to believe that a woman could fall in love with a wicker man. I was already completely on board with that premise. What it was asking was why we find that kind of love so unusual when the things that make the relationship work are exactly what we should be expecting from any partner. And I loved that.

As a romance reader, I felt like the filmmakers understood the appeal of these stories rather than simply borrowing an outrageous premise for laughs. Wicker embraces the unusual while delivering the emotional payoff that makes unconventional romance so satisfying.

The wicker man might be the most unusual romantic hero some moviegoers have ever encountered, but for those of us who read this genre, he’s proof of something we’ve known all along: love doesn’t have to look conventional to be real, meaningful, or deeply romantic.

And yes, we’re still going to talk about the wicker dick. We’re romance readers, after all.