It seems curiously fitting that the 1973 film The Wicker Man should have had so similar a fate as many of the acid and psychedelic-folk albums of the period. This tale of paganism, Christianity, human manipulation, and apples on a remote Scottish island was a creative triumph, but was never given a fair shot a box office success. From unsympathetic editing to poor distribution, the treatment of the film was so careless that it bordered on contemptuous.
Jeanette Leech, Seasons They Change
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Saturday, 3rd September
