There’s a bit of 19th-century Mean Girls in Emily, as well as some 1960s hallucinogens. The closest relationship Emily (an intense Emma Mackey) has is with her brother, Branwell (Fionn Whitehead), as they frolic in the countryside high on opium. She’s madly in lust with the handsome curate William Weightman (Oliver Jackson-Cohen), who has come to their tiny village to assist her father, an Anglican priest. The pair share a he-loves-me, he-loves-me-not passion common among high schoolers.
It’s impossible to take a life even as short as Emily’s and tell its story in two hours, so some condensation of time is necessary. But O’Connor plays so fast and loose with the known elements of Emily’s life that the movie is less a biopic and more of a fever dream. [...]
There are times in the film when camera angles make it seem as if the whole story may be taking place in Emily’s head. A shy outcast, she’s creating a more palatable version of her own life, because otherwise she’s no more than a hermit genius left to do housework — Cinderella with a quill pen and no prince.
Thanks to Mackey, a solid cast, and a true sense of isolation, Emily works as a movie for fans of Victorian costume dramas who prefer grim to prim. But as a biography of Emily Brontë? Not so much. (Howard Gensler)
Her “Emily,” opening Friday here, is a gloriously filmed, impeccably directed, beautifully acted, and “sexed-up” life of Emily Brontë, who gave us one novel, the immortal “Wuthering Heights.” [...]
It’s clear to all of us, that in order to properly juice up Emily’s story for the screen, O’Connor needed a good actor and one with slow, simmering eyes. She found both in Mackey, (also Netflix’s “Sex Education” now streaming). Good choice.
Did I forget to tell you that O’Connor’s subject is not your grandmother’s Emily Brontë, who some critics say never loved anyone, let alone the dashing curate, and may have been a lesbian? In Yorkshire?
But as Alfred Hitchcock famously said, “It’s only a movie.”
It is indeed, and it’s a pretty good one.
Abel Korzeniowski’s score, with dark choral passages is properly haunting.
Nanu Segal’s camera loves Yorkshire’s greenery and Mackey’s eyes. You will too. (J.P. Devine)
The first great film of 2023, writer-director Frances O’Connor’s “Emily” tackles the short life story of the great English author Emily Brontë of “Wuthering Heights” fame. Originally published in 1847 under her pen name Ellis Bell, “Wuthering Heights” remains one of the greatest Gothic romances ever written. O’Connor, who played the female lead in “Mansfield Park” (1999) and “A.I.: Artificial Intelligence” (2001), has forged a gripping biographical film set in the Yorkshire moors, a windswept collection of heather-covered hills and dales. [...]
Films about artists often concentrate on their personal lives, which tells us almost nothing about their art. O’Connor has decided to turn Brontë’s personal life into a version of “Wuthering Heights” in order to show us how the artist perhaps took the raw material of her own existence and turned it into a historical bestseller that continues to cast its dark Gothic spell over new generations. [...]
O’Connor’s film argues that life is the leaden material that artists transmute into gold. Mackey is an undeniable wonder as Brontë. Like the classic novel, “Emily” turns life into a great Gothic thriller. (James Verniere)
Emma Mackey fully commands the screen in "Emily," playing "Wuthering Heights" author Emily Brontë and reinventing her myth.
Or rather, inventing it from the ground up: Historically, not much is known of Brontë, who was said to be reclusive and lived a rather quiet life before her death at age 30. So actress and first-time writer-director Frances O'Connor ("Madame Bovary," "A.I. Artificial Intelligence") plays with the unknown and styles her Emily as a wild card: a passionate lover who gets high on opium and tattoos the words "freedom in thought" across her arm, things that almost certainly were not true but speak to the spirit of Brontë's words and the depth of her writing.
O'Connor does this within the boundaries of a period biopic, without updating the setting, language or attitudes to modern times. Her approach is radical while still subtle, a sort of fan fiction approach to a literary hero.
Mackey plays her with fire, her eyes piercing and her soul lit from inside. [...]
O'Connor's swings — there's also an extended sequence with a mask that brings up themes of séance and possession — go a long way toward bringing Brontë to life in ways a straightforward biopic would not. It's a delicate balance and not everyone is up to such artistic reinterpretation. But here, O'Connor and Mackey together bring their subject to new heights. (Adam Graham)
In Mackey’s hands she is oddly intense in ways that can embarrass others – or destabilize them, the characteristic that does explain Weightman’s actions, even if Emily herself is so timid the affair’s consummation seems a stretch. In one of the strongest scenes, Emily puts on a mask and channels her dead mother to the increasing discomfort of Weightman and her siblings.
Mackey is particularly well supported by Fionn Whitehead as the bohemian Branwell, the son to whom too much has been given and of whom too much expected. Creating a glib charmer, Whitehead reveals the artistic personality that rejoices in more enthusiasm than talent and, as life fails to deliver any success, gives Branwell’s descent into alcohol and opium the weight of tragic inevitability. He is also a useful character for O’Connor because he illustrates the physical and intellectual licence the brother enjoys in marked contrast to the sister (although you will have to forgive a rather silly scene where he encourages her to yell “Freedom in thought” at the Yorkshire moors.)
Alexandra Dowling as older sister Charlotte is also notable, creating a well-observed maternal figure both caring and envious, generous in her best moments, pinched and judgmental in her worst. And, of course, there is no shortage of sweeping views over the chilly moors, thanks to cinematographer Nanu Segal.
Purists are not going to be pleased with the historical liberties O’Connor takes with her ending, mixing up the publication history of the Brontë novels so that Emily can see her work published under own name in her lifetime and inspire older sister Charlotte to finally put pen to paper. (In reality one Ellis Bell published Wuthering Heights a few months after Charlotte, also writing under a pseudonym, had produced Jane Eyre.) But for the rest of us this fantasy does offer the satisfaction of witnessing the short-lived triumph of a fascinating character. (Kate Taylor)
WBUR thinks that the film takes 'thrillingly salacious liberties'.
O’Connor’s film — for which she also wrote the screenplay — is likewise mostly made-up stuff. So little is known about Emily’s actual life and times that the picture is free to indulge in thrillingly salacious speculations and semi-informed attempts to explore the roiling passions and mercurial contradictions that might have inspired our socially awkward wallflower to put pen to paper. It’s a very modern movie about the idea of being Emily Brontë, misfit of the moors. She’s played by Emma Mackey (from the Netflix series “Sex Education,” which I apparently need to watch) with deep-set eyes in a faraway gaze often interrupted by reckless, impulsive gestures. A head taller than her sisters and a good deal darker in both hair color and disposition, Emily’s a proto-Goth girl sitting off by herself in these Victorian church pews, bored to catatonia by the sermons of hunky new curate Mr. Weightman (Oliver Jackson-Cohen). [...]
The real-life Weightman was actually linked with sister Anne, but why deny Emily — or us — the pleasures of a good, old-fashioned bodice-ripper? (I seriously wasn’t expecting the sexiest movie in theaters right now to be the one about Emily Brontë.) O’Connor gins up a randy melodrama of missed connections, undelivered letters and deathbed confessions. None of “Emily” has anything to do with the historical record, but it’s a fine tribute very much in keeping with the doomy, romantic sensibility of its subject, as well as the unfortunately unpopular idea that sometimes the most enduring stories are the ones somebody just made up. (Sean Burns)
“Emily” would likely not make it past the fact-checkers even before the scene where the Emily Brontë, 19th-century author of “Wuthering Heights,” gets a tattoo on her forearm. [...]
“Emily” is an imaginative biopic that takes unabashed poetic license with the facts of Brontë’s life. While the real Brontë led a sheltered existence with her siblings on the Yorkshire moors, the movie infuses her (Emma Mackey) with the romantic spirit of her “Heights” characters, a wild spirit rebelling against the constraints of her time. [...]
“Emily” slips back and forth between genres, sometimes a coming-of-age drama, sometimes a torrid romance, and sometimes a bit of Gothic horror. There’s a spellbinding scene where Emily puts on a mask of her dead mother’s face and begins talking to her siblings as if from beyond the grave. Her siblings are first amused, then terrified, then sobbing as they come to really believe they’re talking to their mother. Using her imagination, Emily is able to give her sisters and brother the one thing they want most in the world, something that reality can’t provide.
It isn’t until the final minutes of the movie that Emily finally sits down to write “Wuthering Heights.” But by then we feel the full force of the passions inside her that propelled her to the page. O’Connor has taken the period piece, a venerable genre known for its reserve, and made it feel unpredictable and urgent. (Rob Thomas)
In mixing historical figures and biographical facts with imagined situations, O’Connor has created an absorbing and inspired portrait of a woman born before her time. Mackey is magnetic in the lead role, balancing Emily’s frustration with both herself and the world around her with a genuine need to express herself and become comfortable in her own skin. Neither O’Connor’s script nor Mackey’s performance aim to make the author particularly palatable or likeable. The resulting character is truly original, refusing to be easily labelled or categorized. She has elements of both Heathcliff and Cathy, and as the story progresses, audiences familiar with the novel will see it begin to take shape in her mind. [...]
The supporting cast is likewise superb. As the eldest surviving Brontë daughter, Alexandra Dowling nails Charlotte’s dual nature. It’s a role that could read as a bit villainous on the page, but the actress imbues Charlotte’s every move–a constant war of sisterly affection and indulgence with familial responsibility and jealousy of her younger sisters’ natural, more carefree natures. Fionn Whitehead captures the tragic, lost nature of the sole Brontë brother, and Oliver Cohen-Jackson brings depth to his gentle country curate. His William is terrified by Emily’s wildness and by the strength of his feelings, seeing them both as obstacles to his religious calling.
Unsurprisingly in any film about the Brontës, Emily is appropriately moody and atmospheric. Nanu Segal’s cinematography paints the surrounding Yorkshire countryside in arresting shadow and light, capturing both the muddy palette of Victorian England and the beauty of the natural world. Rain is ever-present, but the wild moors are just as appealing under stormy skies as they are under the rays of the sun.
Like Alfred Newman’s critically-lauded 1939 Wuthering Heights score, Abel Korzeniowski’s score fits right in, echoing Emily’s ever-changing moods, uplifting and dramatic in turn. Interspersed with the score are quietly effective moments filled only with the scratching of the quill on paper, the creaking of the trees and the trill of the birds, or the rain and wind. A constant reminder of the author’s deep connection to her home and to nature.
Viewers should come away from Emily with a greater appreciation for first-time director O’Connor, for Mackey’s riveting raw talent, and for Brontë herself. Engrossing suppositions aside, it’s clear that the author was gifted with far greater abilities and imagination than any of her contemporary critics, or even her family, were willing to acknowledge. (Emma Badame)
The eternal biopic dilemma is how much you owe to history vs. how much you owe to effective dramatic filmmaking, and actor-turned-first-time-feature director Frances O’Connor just can’t quite get the balance right in this attempt at a character study of writer Emily Brontë (Emma Mackey). The narrative tracks a fairly narrow window of time in Emily’s adulthood, including her close connection with her troubled brother Branwell (Fionn Whitehead), her often-contentious relationship with sister Charlotte (Alexandra Dowling) and a possible romance with William Weightman (Oliver Jackson-Cohen), the new associate minister to her pastor father (Adrian Dunbar). Frances shows a facility for visual filmmaking, including a wordless sequence capturing Emily’s profound social anxiety, and the gothic intensity of a guessing game that abruptly becomes a kind of séance. In theory, though, a narrative of this kind should be about giving us a vivid sense of who Emily Brontë was as a person that informed her writing—and no matter how much screen time O’Connor devotes to close-ups of Mackey staring directly into the camera, she too often comes off like a chaotic mix of behaviors that don’t add up to a character. Maybe many of things are true, or at least truer than the timeline for the publication of Wuthering Heights. But while the truth is always an acceptable defense in a libel case, that’s not always enough to make for a successful story. (Scott Renshaw)
What screenwriter O’Connor does that her directing self relishes is to make us think that Emily’s life was a barrel of laughs. The movie is remarkably bright and breezy. Perhaps Emily thought she was actually writing a comic novel that people took more seriously than she expected they would; the upshot being that nobody laughed as much the Brontë girls. Oh that’s so wicked Emily, and the giggles ensue. [...]
All of the film’s acting is exceptional, but special praise goes to Mackey for making a woman with astonishing intellectual talent wonderfully relatable. I appreciated her character’s ability to consume as much of the attention as she could in the context of a very competitive family. “Look at me, I’m Emily B.”
O’Connor makes you care about Emily, even if a lot of the goings-on seem out of character for the tenor of the time. Her writing talent was prodigious. According to O’Connor, so was her passion for being in the spotlight.
If you go see “Emily,” which is playing at the North Park Theatre, you will delight in the costumes designed by Michael O’Connor, especially all of the fabulous hats worn by women. Nanu Segal’s cinematography, which often glows with candlelight, is outstanding. You expect moody moors, but Segal gives them a special allure.
“Emily” has an engaging energy that may belie the era in which it’s set, but it’s certainly enjoyable. There’s an intensity that we don’t often experience in far too many of today’s homogenized movies. It’s about a woman who is committed to her own understanding of freedom.
O’Connor has delivered a story that lives and breathes in the best way possible. Her film not only has great style, it also has a wellspring of encouragement and respect for a young woman who had writing talent that helped change the literary world. (Michael Calleri)
What elevates the film beyond a traditional BBC-type experience is Mackey’s hypnotic performance. She’s in nearly every scene, of course, and yet you crave more. I’d seen her briefly in Sex Education and in Keneth Branaugh’s Death on the Nile, but this performance has the air of a major acting statement. She expertly navigates, perhaps leans into, what is essentially Emily’s core strangeness, weirdness, that sets her apart from her contemporaries. She breathes life into Emily and avoids a traditional period performance that we’ve seen a thousand times. Somehow, Mackey is able to convey an entire subtext of borderline madness strictly through physical actions. Her eyes, her body, and her posture all underscore the intense emotional trauma that O’Connor’s vision holds. It’s a startlingly strong performance, one that will lead to many great things for the actress. (Clarence Moye)
Onto other Brontë acting as
Tucson Weekly features a local production of Polly Teale's
Brontë.Director Bryan Rafael Falcón, who is also the company’s artistic director, said they are always looking for plays by female playwrights, particularly ones that explore the idea of what it means to be human and from where we get our identities.
“For Brontë, we have these three sisters who are isolated on the English moors of northern England and Yorkshire and somehow these celibate women write some of the most passionate works in literature,” Falcón said.
“We’re intrigued to understand where does this powerful storytelling come from? Where does this passion come from?”
He was also attracted to this play, he said, because it is inherently theatrical. The play starts out at the Parsonage Museum, the actual Brontë home in Yorkshire. It’s a place where visitors can see their dresses, their dining room table, even the brush that Emily dropped into the fire on the night she died.
“We were recreating that sense of place here,” Falcón said. “But over the course of the play, the actors put on the clothes of the Brontës and they step into the roles and lives of these women and we start to learn more about the facts around what went on in their life, what were their challenges, what were the tragedies they encountered, what were their relationships about.” [...]
The play moves back and forth in time and space between different years from the present to the mid-1800s and through many locations in England.
“Visually, the piece is intended to be more expressionistic than biopic,” Falcón said. “Everything on the stage has a metaphor, a meaning, a reason for being there. It’s very visually rich, beautiful.”
The music director, Robert Lopez-Hanshaw, helps establish time and place for the audience. While lighting changes alert to moves through time and space, actors rarely have time to change costumes, so music and sound effects are being provided.
“We have tried to ask ourselves, what does the world of Jane Eyre sound like? What does the world of Wuthering Heights sound like?” Falcón said.
They have sounds for the Moors, sound for pirate tales, sounds for every location.
Falcón, who did not read the novels of the sisters until he knew he was going to direct this show, said that audiences needn’t read the stories or even know much about the Brontës. The play, and the information they have in the lobby, will provide a crash course. The story, he said, is more about exploring a family of genius women and what inspired their work than a biography or literature lesson. (Bridgette M. Redman)
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