I read the reviews of this film in confusion. I looked at the Tomatometer — just 64 per cent — and wondered, what is it that people want? Do they just want blandness in films now? Predictable storylines?
It’s true, a decorous adaptation wouldn’t have Heathcliff heaving over Cathy, rasping, “You bitch.” It wouldn’t have her dad screaming, “F*** off, you silly woman.” It wouldn’t have a public hanging scene in which a child yelps of the corpse, “He’s got a stiffy!” (complete with close-up). It wouldn’t have the prostitutes, the blood, the squelching, the snail trails, the erotic eggs or Cathy running about the moors in ever more teetering (mouthwatering) bits of couture. But who’d prefer that adaptation over this? Bourgeois is boring.
There is a problem in culture at the moment of making everything predictable and small. Real art now scares us. As film dies, it’s being shut into ever more boring, ugly little formulas just to make money. It’s true (as this film shows) phone-obsessed audiences can’t even cope with subplots. The soundtrack isn’t a soundtrack any more; it’s a marketing opportunity. I get why people react against that. But why don’t they embrace the rest of it? Why don’t they see this for what it is — spectacular? Or do they think that the Brontës were just weeping, sad, limited victims — as that review points out, virgins — deserving only of insipid, careful remakes? And the less we see of posh “primal” Emerald’s sexuality, the better? (Camilla Long)
Any driver travelling the Belfast–Dublin road will pass a brown tourism sign pointing to the Brontë Homeland. Few turn off, and fewer still realise that behind that modest roadside marker lies a literary debate that has simmered for more than a century.
The Brontës belong to Yorkshire. Yet, a generation before Haworth, before the parsonage and the wind-scoured heath, there were the fields of rural Co Down.
More than 100 years ago, a Belfast writer argued, to scoffing in some quarters, that the family’s literary story began in the shadow of the Mourne Mountains, and that the backdrop inspired more than has ever been comfortably acknowledged.
The writing trio are, says the Irish novelist Martina Devlin, “regarded as jewels in the English literary crown and quite rightly so”. But, she adds, “many rivers feed into the great ocean of creativity, and one of those rivers is the Irish dimension”. (...)
It was the Belfast writer William Wright who, in The Brontës in Ireland, first argued in print in 1893 that the Co Down factor should be treated as much more than a biographical footnote.
Drawing on local testimony among Patrick’s contemporaries, Wright suggested that his upbringing, surrounded by the Mournes, left traces in the imaginative world later fixed in Yorkshire.
Wright floated the idea that Heathcliff, the feral, obsessive foundling of ambiguous background at the centre of Wuthering Heights, might represent the Irish famine-era migration or Irish “otherness” entering England en masse at Liverpool at the time, the city in which he is discovered wandering the streets. (...)
Dr Robert Logan, of the Brontë Ireland society, believes Patrick’s influence has been consistently under-recognised. (...)
Brontë Ireland, he notes, remains affiliated with the Brontë Society in Haworth and maintains close ties.
“There’s always been a close connection,” he says.
The aim, he suggests, is not to redraw the map of literary ownership, but to ensure the opening chapter is more widely known and never forgotten.
Devlin agrees, saying: “It doesn’t detract from the Brontës, it adds to our understanding.” (Jason Johnson)
Forbes explores where
Wuthering Heights was filmed and how to visit.
People compares the
Wuthering Heights 2026 cast side-by-side with the "original" 1939 Stars.
The Telegraph explains that the 'shocking' first scene of the film was scaled down after the first previews. Who knows?
The Everygirl ranks all the songs of Charli XCX's
Wuthering Heights album. Their best?
Dying for you.
Vermilion County First briefly reviews the album:
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