The Wicker Man (2006) Dir. Neil Labute
Cage does his best Edward Woodward impersonation as a bedraggled ex-cop with a hot and philandering wife, who is a full time yoga instructor. When he finds out about her extra-marital ways, he begins to seduce the portly but attractive 20-year-old that works at his neighborhood Whole Foods. Taken to hiding her wares inside of a well-worn Mae Shi t-shirt, Cage’s Edward Maulis is nonetheless enamored with the young aspiring scenester, stating in narrative think-speak that “the homely ones, the fish-wives-in-training, have to work harder in bed, and I like that.” When his neighbor, a graphic designer that masturbates with his adopted son’s baseball glove and has actually never (and I mean, NEVER) had sex with his wife of ten years, locks onto Maulis’ proposed plan of infidelity, he tricks him into taking a trip out to the nearest Red Lobster under the guise of a comic-irony dinner. It’s there that he beats Maulis to death with a burning wicker rocking chair, while our misunderstood protagonist repeatedly screams something about his wife fucking a 60-year-old art gallery owner/commercial real estate mogul. A pot-boiler?through and through.