Wicker

Testing the theory that there’s a perfect match for everybody out there somewhere, Wicker is a British medieval sex comedy in which woven wood constitutes the aphrodisiac.

Amusing and disturbing, sometimes simultaneously, it satirizes gender politics and class distinctions from its era in exaggerated and often outrageous fashion. Although uneven, it generates consistent laughs for those on the same offbeat wavelength.

None of the small-town characters are given actual names, but rather are defined by their role or profession. Thus we meet Fisherwoman (Olivia Colman), a social outcast whose cod sales are floundering like her love life.

Out of desperation, she visits the reclusive Basket Weaver (Peter Dinklage) with a special request: “I want you to make me a husband.”

With a magic touch, he does his best Victor Frankenstein and produces Wicker Husband (Alexander Skarsgard), who makes no secret of his amorous intentions for his mate, either at home — as long as he doesn’t get too close to the fireplace — or out in public.

The newcomer inadvertently stirs up a village power struggle fueled by petty jealousies and repressed sexual desires. Fisherwoman comes to enjoy the attention and the scrutiny that comes with it.

However, the tide turns when her female neighbors start rebelling against their chauvinistic and suddenly inadequate husbands, wishing they had a Wicker Husband of their own.

That brings out the worst in the flash-and-bones humans as the town is subsequently torn apart by gossip and accusations, with Fisherwoman caught in the middle.

Once again showcasing her audacity and versatility, Colman (The Favourite) finds moral complexity and humanity in a woman who revels in artificiality.

The screenplay by the married directing tandem of Alex Huston Fischer and Eleanor Wilson (Save Yourselves) — adapted from an Ursula Willis short story — leans into its quirks and anachronisms, including its peculiar unspecified setting and eccentric characters who populate it.

The film keeps its rather ridiculous fantasy grounded in real-world emotions such as the need for acceptance and companionship, which adds a layer of sympathy to the Fisherwoman’s otherwise pitiful scheming.

It makes the most of essentially a one-joke premise that feels stretched thin after a while. Yet despite some awkward tonal shifts when transitioning into a darker revenge drama in the final act, Wicker weaves together some wicked fun.

Rated R, 105 minutes.