Capsules

CAPSULE: WICKER (2026)

Leave a comment

366 Weird Movies may earn commissions from purchases made through product links.

DIRECTED BY: Alex Huston Fischer, Eleanor Wilson

FEATURING: , , , ,

PLOT: A medieval spinster Fisherwoman asks the local Basketweaver to build her a husband out of wicker.

Still from Wicker (2026)

COMMENTS: Tired of being mocked and sick of living alone, a smelly Fisherwoman (all Wicker‘s characters are referred to by their occupations) commissions the local magical Basketweaver to make her a husband. The intrigued Basketweaver accepts the challenge, tells her to be at the chapel in a month. Surprisingly, the local priest doesn’t object to officiating at this unholy wedding, and the villagers barely raise an eyebrow when the new woody construct strides into town and takes a seat at the tavern bar. In fact, the women are more intrigued than horrified by the macabre woven consort, who not only demolishes the bed with his aggressive lovemaking, but dutifully mends it afterwards. Soon, the village is consumed by envy: the women wish they had sturdier lovers, the men resent the women’s roving eyes, and the Tailor’s Wife takes it upon herself to sow doubt about the happy but unnatural union.

Wicker is minor in impact, but nearly perfect in its way. The story structure is solid and classical, providing a happy ending for the virtuous and ironic comeuppance for the wicked. Colman ably handles the unglamorous but dignified lead; Skarsgård takes a stoic approach, adopting what sounds like a Native American accent. Dinklage is delightful as the impish magical weaver, and the rest of the cast supplies ample comic relief as the hamlet of horny bumpkins. Technical aspects are all marvelous: the bucolic cinematography is fine, editing is professional, and the score provides proper period flavor. The imposing bronzed Wicker Husband himself is an amazing collaboration between the makeup and costuming departments. Sound design is also a standout; you hear every crackle of the Husband’s stiffening erection. If there’s any criticism to be made, its that the pacing occasionally lags—and some may find the Basketweaver’s habit of indulging in Shakespearean monologues distracting and pretentious, although others will see it as a mere quirky ornament.

We live in an age where humans are lured into romantic relationships with AI chatbots and full-service sexbots are mere decades away, but Wicker doesn’t reference that simmering controversy. Nor does it seriously delve into the ethical and philosophical questions about whether its automaton has free will, or whether its love is merely a simulation. Heck, it’s not even concerned whether the Fisherwoman might get splinters. Despite it’s ribaldry, Wicker is steadfastly sweet and pure in its fairy tale romanticism. Although some will find an embedded attack on the patriarchy (local wedding ceremonies involve placing a collar on the bride, which may be as kinky as it is misogynist), the film stays true to its light romcom aspirations. The satirical elements mainly focus on a simple human foible (jealousy); the same tale could have been comfortably told by Chaucer or Boccaccio. The fantastical premise is a little out there for the average moviegoer, sure, but any weirdness is only a light accent in this pleasant peasant stew.

Wicker was based on “The Wicker Husband,” an Ursula Wills short story later adapted into a stage musical. It’s heartening to see Wills stumble into a big payday for a tale that was originally published on the Internet for free.

WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:

“…threatens to feel largely like a logline writ into something grander (i.e., a short story with a wild idea stretched into a feature), but these actors are irresistibly weird and wonderful, as only they could be.”–Ryan Lattanzino, Indiewire (festival screening)

I think this movie is weirder than average
I think this movie is better than average

It Came from the Reader-Suggested Queue, Shorts

IT CAME FROM THE READER-SUGGESTED QUEUE: THE FLOOD (1985)

1 Comment

366 Weird Movies may earn commissions from purchases made through product links.

“The Flood” has been posted by the director on Vimeo, where it is available to watch for free.

DIRECTED BY: Jaap Drupsteen

FEATURING: Pauline Daniels, Julian Beusker, Sylvia Millecam, Rudi Van Vlaanderen, and the voices of Laurence Harvey, Sebastian Cabot,

PLOT: Adam and Eve betray God by eating the forbidden fruit of knowledge, learning shame and being cast out of Eden; later, Noah builds an ark for his family as well as the animals of the Earth to survive the coming deluge.

Still from The Flood (1985)

COMMENTS: In relatively recent memory, opera was not only broadcast on American television, but was commissioned specifically to be shared with the masses. The most famous example is probably ’s 1951 holiday offering for NBC, Amahl and the Night Visitors, but other notable composers of note have been enlisted to tackle the medium, including Benjamin Britten, Norman Dello Joio, and Duke Ellington. Igor Stravinsky, the musical mind behind “The Rite of Spring,” a work so avant-garde it nearly sparked riots, is possibly the greatest composer to be tasked with bringing opera to TV. The commission for the opera we attend today came at a time when Stravinsky was looking forward and backward simultaneously: he was adopting 12-tone serial techniques in his composition while pursuing spiritual and scriptural themes in his subject matter. The piece he crafted for CBS Television’s Breck Golden Showcase was right in the sweet spot, a blend of opera, ballet (choreographed by George Balanchine), and spoken word narration and dialogue that tells two of the most familiar tales from the book of Genesis. In these days of traitors and real housewives, we should probably not expect this mindset to return anytime soon.

“The Flood” has not endured as one of the landmarks in Stravinsky’s catalogue, which makes it interesting that Dutch video artist Jaap Drupsteen excavated it some two decades later. One account suggests that he was inspired by the rising waters threatening his homeland (an interesting parallel to Stravinsky himself, who said that the idea for the piece came to him on a visit to Venice), but there’s not really an environmental or political message in his production of “The Flood.” This is a fairly straightforward retelling of the two parables, re-envisioned using the video tools then seen throughout the day on MTV. In fact, “The Flood” evokes the video art of Zbigniew Rybczynski, whose work was in regular rotation on the channel, and who further developed his vision in films such as “Imagine” and  “Orchestra” piling layer upon layer of green-screened action like a funhouse mirror that stretches into infinity with only the slightest variation. The sound is Stravinsky; the look is The Art of Noise.

In some respects, “The Flood” is a bit of a stunt, repurposing old audio with new imagery like an episode of “Drunk History.” The modern cast lip-syncs to the original 1962 recording of the opera, particularly the spoken word segments, which means, for example, that the older gentleman in the neat black suit is mouthing the voice of Mr. French from “Family Affair.” The visuals, however, are so 1980s as to thoroughly redefine the work. Adam and Eve appear on a Tron-like grid, as though they had been generated in a computer, and their knowledge compels them to cover their nakedness with shiny party frocks that would have been at home at a happening nightclub (presaging their ultimate walk of shame). The city to be wiped out in the coming cataclysm is a Dali-esque keepsake box that vanishes into the horizon. Lucifer is an androgynous Ziggy Stardust-type figure who slinks around in spangled bodysuits and barely-there dance belts. Most notably, God spins overhead as a trio of baritones inside the finest spinning triangle a video toaster could generate.

There’s irony in the realization that the showiness and the high-tech-for-its-time trappings make “The Flood” more like its source material, the York and Chester miracle plays. These staged scriptures brought the tales of the Bible to the illiterate medieval masses, dramatizing the most compelling tales with pageantry and potency. So too does Drupsteen’s take on Stravinsky’s take on Genesis. What was prestige becomes fancifully odd, and the passage of time has made it even more charmingly peculiar. With this kind of approach, maybe opera could find its way to the small screen once more.

(This movie was nominated for review by Tyler. Suggest a weird movie of your own here.) 

I think this movie is weirder than average
I think this movie is better than average
Capsules

CAPSULE: MORBO (1972)

2 Comments

366 Weird Movies may earn commissions from purchases made through product links.

DIRECTED BY: Gonzalo Suarez

FEATURING: Ana Belen, Victor Manuel, Michael J. Pollard, Maria Vica

PLOT: Their honeymoon goes awry when newlyweds unwittingly park their camper at the edge of a haunted forest.

 

COMMENTS: Morbo is a ghost story without ghosts. The English title, Morbidness, pretty much sums it up. A honeymooning couple find themselves engulfed in a sinister atmosphere that they’re at a loss to explain. Moments of violence erupt out of the tension, but this nontraditional horror film mostly traffics in mood.

A pre-credits introduction sets the scene. As the camera floats through a deserted, crumbling mansion, disembodied voices recount their misfortunes: the devastating forest fire that tore through the landscape, wrecking their livelihood, leaving them old before their time, ruined by injury, illness, and poverty. The empty rooms echo with plaintive laments. Amid the decaying furnishings, a reporduction of the Mona Lisa sits on the floor, symbol of their former prosperity and a hint of the mystery to come.

The opening credits then roll over a static shot of a church interior. We meet Alicia and Diego as they drive off to their honeymoon, a camping expedition designed to provide them with peace and quiet. They choose a secluded forest glade on their campsite, failing to notice the “No Trespassing” sign at the side of the road. When they set out to explore the area, Diego comes across the rotting, headless carcass of a dead animal without a head. He doesn’t mention it to Alicia.

Despite this disturbing discovery, they settle in, unpacking their wedding gifts from the camper and decorating the clearing with inflatable furniture. At first they are content to be together, sharing confidences and increasing their intimacy. They open the wedding gifts and immediately start mocking both the contents and the people who gifted them. “A real Leonardo,” Alicia sarcastically declares when she opens a package to reveal a Mona Lisa print.

Her disdain aside, the image triggers a vivid memory for Alicia. She recounts a dream she once had of inhabiting a summer house where a copy of the Mona Lisa hung on the chimney. The detailed vision includes gardens surrounding the house, a picturesque old mill, and a well.

Made in Spain during the tail end of the Franco regime, Morbo pushes the limits of state-imposed censorship. Through its irreverent attitude towards marriage and the sanctity of the nuclear family, it challenges prevailing Catholic beliefs and the encroaching consumerism of lavish wedding and honeymoon practices.

Along with the societal critique, director Suarez toys with the conventions of the Western horror film. The couple make a classic gas station stop along their journey, during which Alicia peels off her wedding dress to display a white crocheted bikini underneath. She unceremoniously tosses the dress into the back seat, and there it will remain, a casually discarded symbol of tradition.

It isn’t long before bizarre events begin taking place, leading to arguments between Alicia and Diego. An old house nearby becomes a point of contention. Diego sees it first, but he’s evasive when describing it to Alicia. Since it has a well, she’s confident the residents will allow them to replenish their water supply, but whenever Diego goes to ask, he’s says no one’s home. They find a river nearby, but Alicia refuses to drink or use the water out of fear of insects.

More alarming to the couple is evidence that someone may be spying on them. The invisible antagonist tampers with their car, as well as their water canisters. The theft of Alicia’s wedding dress proves to be the last straw. Determined to find the thief, she runs off to the old house on her own. Despite the prevailing aura of obfuscation, Morbo concludes with a satisfyingly bloody denouement for viewers who manage to make it to the end. The plot loops back to the introduction, connecting various narrative threads, although it can never entirely account for the strange workings of Fate.

Belen and Manuel, the two leads, were popular celebrities known for their left-wing sympathies, and a couple at the time. Their casting was a coup for Suarez, who remained somewhat outside the mainstream. He had begun his career in film as a scriptwriter before deciding to direct his own films. He was affiliated with the Barcelona School, a group of intellectuals, artists, film makers, and musicians who frequented the newly flourishing night club scene in the city. But Suarez always stayed true to his unique vision. Many of his films similarly deal with unseen forces that catch his protagonists in their inexorable grip.

WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:

“There are also visually striking surreal touches such as the inflatable red and yellow plastic chairs that Diego and Alice use for lounging in a barren field or a wedding cake left in the sun that becomes insect food… the film casts a strange, otherworldly spell and remains an enigma despite a resolution that sends Alice and Diego back to their bourgeois world, obviously changed forever by their experience.  – Jeff Stafford, Cinema Sojourns

I think this movie is weirder than average
I think this movie is better than average
No Image

Morbo

    Go to Amazon

    Buy Morbo

    It Came from the Reader-Suggested Queue

    IT CAME FROM THE READER-SUGGESTED QUEUE: WHITE NOISE (2022)

    Leave a comment

    366 Weird Movies may earn commissions from purchases made through product links.

    DIRECTED BY: Noah Baumbach

    FEATURING: , Greta Gerwig, Don Cheadle

    PLOT: Episodes from the life and times of a suburban upper middle-class family.

    Still from White Noise (2022)

    COMMENTS: Noah Baumbach is an important figure in contemporary independent American cinema, so much so that Netflix offered him an exclusive contract for several years. Among the filmic seeds that blossomed through this partnership, White Noise is perhaps the most eccentric affair, at least stylistically. But let’s take a closer look to decode its meaning, aesthetic, and whether it can also be called bizarre.

    Based on Don DeLillo’s 1985 novel, White Noise is essentially a film about death. The plot centers on a typical suburban nuclear family engulfed in a false sense of security due to their economic and social status. The father, Jack (Adam Driver), is an upstanding member of the academic community,  lecturing as a history teacher specializing in the history of Nazism.

    The narrative is divided into three segments: the first serves as an introduction, and the other two are (semi-)self-contained episodes. These episodic segments, mimicking different cinematic genres, disrupt the mundanity of everyday life and subvert ideas of normalcy and idealized unity.

    Any illusion of everlasting well-being is dispelled through the constant implementation of memento mori techniques. These reminders of human mortality are everywhere, even when the characters choose deliberately to ignore them. At the university where Jack lectures, a co-professor discusses car crashes as a trope in popular culture; existential agonies lurk under the surface, and an everlasting, almost neurotic, yet deeply human, fear of death governs everyone’s actions.

    In the second part, “The Airborne Toxic Event,” the sense of danger obtains concrete form.  Chaos ensues after a local chemical spill, playing out like a mix of apocalyptic fiction and an action-packed disaster blockbuster. In a playful nod to these cinematic traditions, the events that follow are extravagant, yet express a harsh reality about the fragility of the human condition.

    “Dylarama” changes genre and style once again. Now we have a noirish revenge-thriller, implementing common tropes of the genre to tackle psychotic paranoia while also attacking any idealized sense of familial ties. The situations culminate in violent confrontations and a mental breakthrough for our protagonists.

    White Noise is playful in the way it constantly reinvents itself. That’s why Adam Driver is an excellent choice for the main role, having tested himself in similarly challenging genre-bending films like Leos Carax‘s Annette from the previous year. White Noise‘s style is almost hysterical, with a rapid, often overlapping flow of dialogue and movement. Add the multicolored decor and two nightmare sequences, and this film surely verges on weird.

    Yet it doesn’t fully go there. It is ironic, deconstructive, and deeply existential, for sure, balancing mundanity with a sense of dread, yet finding optimism in the end. It’s an eccentric cinematic experience, and it is a solid recommendation for fans of the unorthodox. For hardcore fans of the weird, though, there are better options out there.

    WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:

    “The characters are acting like recognizable normal people, but the dialogue they are speaking seems like it’s coming from a beat poet’s fever dream, and the plot borders on the surreal.”– Bryce Hanson, Horror Movie Talk

    I think this movie is weirder than average
    I think this movie is better than average

    Celebrating the cinematically surreal, bizarre, cult, oddball, fantastique, strange, psychedelic, and the just plain WEIRD!