I scarcely remember watching The Wicker Man last night. I know I did, although I may have been in and out of consciousness while I was watching it, but it did leave strange imprints on my groggy brain.
The songs are certainly stranger when you're a little loopy, in particular Britt Ekland's temptress dance. The sense of dread is still palpable on me, but how much of that was the X-Files and how much was the last ten minutes of The Wicker Man, I am unsure.
That being said, I do think that it's better to watch Robin Hardy's little ode to pagans in the wee hours than with sunlight pouring into the room, as I did the first time I saw it. And I can't fathom the remake working at all.
Up next... haven't decided. MST3K's keeping the VCR warm in the other room, but I'll choose a movie proper shortly. Expect my first reaction to Slither later tonight.
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