Extra Extra - summer is a coming in
The Wicker Man turns 50
Dear inspired reader,
Well, I hope you inspired, as the long days of summer are upon us, and if you’ve juice in your batteries you can go a long distance.
‘Summer is a coming in’ is one of the translations of of ‘Sumer is icumen in’, an English song from the mid-13th century, which is the earliest example of a secular round or rota (think ‘row row row your boat’), and can be sung by up to six voices.
It’s a delightful ditty, easy to chant while under the green shade of the spreading oak, with a mug of cider in your hand. There’s no need for instrumental accompaniment.
Here’s a Modern English versions (thanks to Wikipedia):
Summer has arrived,
Loudly sing, cuckoo!
The seed is growing
And the meadow is blooming,
And the wood is coming into leaf now,
Sing, cuckoo!The ewe is bleating after her lamb,
The cow is lowing after her calf;
The bullock is prancing,
The billy-goat farting,1
Sing merrily, cuckoo!Cuckoo, cuckoo,
You sing well, cuckoo,
Never stop now.Sing, cuckoo, now; sing, cuckoo;
Sing, cuckoo; sing, cuckoo, now!
There are several versions online, but I like this one in a garden setting because you can listen to six voices singing it.
I love music from all eras, but I have a fondness for early European music — plainschant, folk ballads, madrigals, etc. When they are secular songs they are often playfully bawdy.
This brings me to one of my favourite films, The Wicker Man (1973), written by Anthony Shaffer (inspired by David Pinner's 1967 novel Ritual) and directed by Robin Hardy.2 It is 50 years old now, which is seems unlikely until you do the maths! My local arthouse cinema, Pálás in Galway city, put on a special screening of the latest 4K restoration of the film for the solstice (the film itself is set on May Day).
In case any of you are unfamiliar with this classic, it begins with the arrival of a policeman, Sgt. Neil Howie (Edward Woodward), to the Scottish island of Summerisle to investigate the report of a missing child. He’s thwarted by the locals, who view him with amusement, and Howie (a devout Christian) is shocked to realise the inhabitants of the island follow revived pagan traditions. In particular, he’s outraged by the lenient schooling and open acceptance of sexuality. He has a remarkable erotic encounter (it must be seen to be admired) with the landlord’s daughter, Willow MacGregor (Britt Ekland). Most arresting is the Lord of Summerisle, played by Christopher Lee in all his youthful glory, whose family encouraged the island’s worship of heathen virility. Howie’s investigations lead him on a merry chase, with a sinister ending.
This restored ‘final cut’ of the film — there will be a delicious Blu-ray box set coming out soon — was fantastic on the big screen. I’ve watched this treat on multiple occasions, but each time I’m amazed at its cleverness and and its earthy sensuality — the film would simply not be made today. It encountered numerous problems during its filming and subsequent release(s). That complicated tale is the subject of a new text due out in October from Titan Books: The Wicker Man: The Official Story of the Film by John Walsh.
On this viewing I was struck again by the toe-tapping soundtrack which bolsters the narrative and enriches the film enormously. It was composed, arranged and recorded by Paul Giovanni and session musician band, Magnet. Much of it is original, or repurposed ballads and nursery rhymes. All the songs were designed to be played only with portable acoustic instruments (except for one notable prog rock guitar track in a chase scene), so their forged authenticity lends a realness to the events.
The film is one sweeping magical reveal, yet once you’ve seen the film you take pleasure re-watching it to admire how the spell is cast. The song ‘Summer is a coming in’ gets a memorable moment right at the end of the film, an appropriate nod to a genuine folk song. Fergal Kinney at The Guardian wrote about the music from the film recently, in advance of a concert — Musics From Summerisle — held last Saturday in London.
The Wicker Man did not create what has been retroactively termed ‘folk horror’ cinema (Nigel Kneale, Hammer Films, and other filmmakers had already birthed its skeleton), but it is considered a galvanising moment in British horror cinema, and it has been the subject of much homage.
The Wicker Man is like an artefact, dug up from the ploughed earth, and misidentified as an ancient text. It’s a reminder that traditions can appear old if you craft the correct masks.
Miscellaneous
I’ve just finished watching the first season of Will Trent on Disney+, a police procedural series featuring a dyslexic special agent (Ramón Rodriguez). The show is based by the series of novels by crime writer Karin Slaughter, and adapted for TV by Liz Heldens and Daniel T. Thomsen. I got the impression that several storylines from the books were stitched together for this first season, resulting in a few patchy episodes, but there are enough likeable characters to sustain interest. The trope of the ‘brilliant mind who sees things differently’ remains compelling, although the layers of traumatic events and dysfunctional relationships strains my credibility. A complicated back story seems de rigueur for a TV series today. Oh, for a stoic but good-hearted detective who likes puzzles and fighting crime, and doesn’t have a regular nervous breakdown or a drug/sex/alcohol addiction. Not to say that this line of work isn’t taxing, but the range of problems burdening the characters seems insupportable.
I’m looking forward to the third season of Only Murders in the Building: let’s have a bit more fun and a touch less grim.
Controversy alert! This line is sometimes translated as ‘The stag cavorting’ or ‘The stag dancing’ due to the on-going bias against using the word ‘farting’. Our medieval ancestors had more of a sense of the funny realities of farm life!
I have the large 40th anniversary poster, designed by Dan Mumford, framed in my living room.
I loved seeing it on the big screen. Such a treat - and my favourite cut of the film too!