Rumer Godden wasn't allowed to play Jane Eyre

A contributir to The Atlantic has written an article on 'The Unbearable Mediocrity of Microdramas' after attending the newly established Alza Festival, the first major theatrical event in the United States devoted entirely to the microdrama format.

The last showing I attended was of a contemporary adaptation of Wuthering Heights, which very much reminded me of an assignment I had in high school to modernize scenes from Othello. A group of elderly patrons sat a few rows ahead of me, and seemed taken aback by the vertical nature of what they were about to watch. (Perhaps they saw a showing for Wuthering Heights listed somewhere and bought tickets.) Before the film started, they flagged down one of the theater attendants to ask about the Alza Festival information shown on-screen; the slides highlighted vertical storytelling and one of the sponsors, the app Verza TV. After the attendant dutifully explained what microdramas were, one of the patrons asked incredulously: “How does that apply to television?” It was a reminder that, as much hype as this slice of the entertainment industry gins up for itself, vertical dramas haven’t proved they’re more than a way to make a quick buck. (Elise Hannum)

Here's further info on that production.

Scroll shares an excerpt from the book Every Least Thing: Rumer Godden’s India Years.

Later on at school, in the Senior School play, I was put out of the name part of Jane Eyre because the girls pointed out that my nose was too big for Jane, a fact moved, I must add, by the girl who wanted the part for herself and got it. 

According to Collider, Wuthering Heights is one of '5 Classic Books Better Than Pride and Prejudice'.

Wuthering Heights (1847)

Emily Brontë understood that love could make fools of us all. She knew that, sometimes, it could make people downright awful. In Wuthering Heights, she gives us Catherine Earnshaw and Heathcliff, two people whose feelings for each other seem to make them miserable more often than happy. There's jealousy and there’s resentment; there's wounded pride and compounding cruelty. And yet, Brontë makes it almost impossible not to conspire with them. We can see where their anger comes from, even when we can't begin to excuse what they do with it. (Scott Simone)