Falling Flat or Emotionally Resonant

 A lot more reviews of Wuthering Heights 2026:

Wuthering Heights adaptation is what happens when no one reads. (...)

The latest work from English filmmaker Emerald Fennell — who cultivated a sizable following with her tawdry 2023 dark comedy Saltburn — is a loose adaptation of Emily Brontë’s 1847 Wuthering Heights — loose being a charitable term doing more than its share of heavy lifting — and a reflection of a stark literary crisis plaguing our modern age. (Harry Khachatrian in Washington Examiner)

 Emerald Fennell's adaptation of "Wuthering Heights" ultimately falls flat, trading significant characters and emotional intimacy for awkward erotica. (...)

However, even if the film is reviewed as an independent entity, it still relies on montages, shock value and awkward erotica, which do not make up for underdeveloped protagonists and a complete lack of story development. (1 of 5) (Mia Colangelo in Pipe Dreams)

There’s something undeniably Shakespearean about Fennell’s Wuthering Heights. Like Romeo, Heathcliff is “fortune’s fool,” undone by a love so infinite he’ll destroy everything and everyone just so he won’t be without it. But in some ways, this story is even more gut-wrenching. Romeo and Juliet’s romance was impulsive and short, kept apart by family drama; Catherine and Heathcliff torture themselves slowly through their pride and insistence on possessing one another completely. So yes, the film is provocative. It’s romantic. It’s erotic, and even gross at times. And in that way, it lives up to the hype because it’s so deliciously, unapologetically an Emerald Fennell film. And I loved every second of it. (Liana Minassian in The Everygirl)

 Ultimately, Fennell’s “Wuthering Heights” serves as a cautionary tale about the dangers of prioritizing aesthetic over substance. In its attempt to modernize the moors for a commercial audience, the adaptation loses the very soul of the novel, turning a classic into a cheesy romance. (Madelyn Stewart in The News Record)

 To her credit, Fennell understands that it’s more fun to smash a dollhouse than to construct one meticulously. Her sledgehammer approach to party scenes in her previous films is rivaled by Wuthering Heights’s opening sequence of a public hanging. Though we are supposed to be in the late 18th century, the mood is more medieval. After a few moments of the hanged man’s dying gasps, a Charli xcx song floods the soundtrack (the truly terrifying track “House,” which she recorded with John Cale), and the crowd erupts in a carnal frenzy. People roar, some start fucking, a nun closes her eyes, and parents pull away their children. The scene does not exist in Brontë’s novel, but it’s somehow closest to the monstrous vitality of that world, a place where the dead refuse to die. Too bad that Fennell never gives her characters the chance to live. (Genevieve Yue in Film Comment)

 In lieu of Bronte’s original tale, Fennell offers an odd mix of campy Harlequin-esque romance and weird Gothic horror. Within this concoction, sumptuous sets, flashy costumes and wild weather turn out to be the real stars. (...)

It all adds up to an overheated mess. Thus, in the end, this “Wuthering Heights” might more aptly be titled “Withering Lows.” (Joseph McAleer in Catholic Review)

 Fennell wields overacting from the lead as a strategy for preserving a classical tone. However, the choice to cast modern A-listers in a period piece set to the music of a Gen Z chart-topper already forgoes the chances of being perceived as authentically vintage. Once the story reaches its climactic change of ownership of the Wuthering Heights estate, this ability-to-go-viral tone takes a turn for the better. This pick-up in momentum and quality improves the impact of Robbie’s acting because her whimsical runs across the moors come off more genuine than performative. At this moment, Fennell’s “Wuthering Heights” redeems itself as an entertaining spectacle, no matter how far removed from its blueprint. Luckily, it does not always take itself seriously at times, like the ridiculously tall mountain of empty beer bottles that surround Cathy’s father, who turns to alcohol in his isolation. This admission of dramatization welcomes laughs and critiques all the same. Clearly, Fennell was not looking to be conventional. (Georgie Gassaron in The Ithacan)

 Millennial Fennell may be tapping into a dark romance zeitgeist with “Wuthering Heights”, but she’s also going against the grain when it comes to younger viewers. Despite Gen Z’s pornography habits, headlines proclaim that Zoomers are uninterested in sex or even sex scenes in movies and television. The perception is so pervasive that actress Olivia Wilde is practically begging Gen Z to buy tickets to her new film I Want Your Sex. One of Wilde’s younger costars said she hopes the film inspires risk-averse Zoomers to have sex, adding, “Sex can be lighthearted. It doesn’t have to stare. (Evie Solheim in First Things)

 In contrast, Wuthering Heights is a little late to the party. The mix of contemporary culture and period drama on which it relies has become an established trope, from the appearance of a Converse trainer in Sophia Copolla’s Marie Antoinette back in 2006 to orchestras playing Ariana Grande in the more recent Bridgerton (2020–). Perhaps in time, Fennell’s oeuvre will be appreciated for its encapsulation of our present, an era in which the distinction between a film and its promotion has all but evaporated, both transformed into tools for creating a blitz of images designed to dominate social media feeds. But for now, as pleasant as it is to see Margot Robbie in a bodice and a pair of red sunglasses à la late 90s Britney Spears, this is not, on its own, enough to own the moment – or to fill more than two hours of cinema. (Rosanna McLaughlin in ArtReview)

 Ultimately, this “Wuthering Heights” adaptation succeeds most when it’s viewed not as a translation of the novel but as a reimagined, loose version of it. 

It’s understandable why some viewers feel protective of the original source material. But treating adaptations as creative conversations rather than sacred reproductions opens the door for something more interesting — and sometimes more memorable.

Fennell’s version may not replace the classic in anyone’s mind. But it does prove that even a story told countless times can still feel new when someone is willing to take risks with it. (Kamdyn Sargent in The Suffolk Journal)

They cry and mewl and pout at each other, break for a costume change, and then do it all again, striking postures of indignance and hurt as they growl about their feelings and heave their respective bosoms. They stand stoically by Cathy’s father’s grave, the wind tearing camply at her black veil, then, practically within sight of the funeral party, reunite with animal intensity. Occasionally in fits of love-stricken anger Robbie will beat her girly fists on Elordi’s manly chest. When all other ways of communicating their profound bond have been exhausted, they stick their fingers in each other’s mouths. (John Maier in UnHerd)

 “I have not broken your heart,” sighs Heathcliff during one sweaty, tear-streaked moment of truth with Cathy. “You have broken it, and in breaking it, you have broken mine.” That’s a great line, and Fennell is smart enough to retain it and many others; brave, too, considering the inevitable and palpable clash between her dialogue and Brontë’s. The hearts most likely to be broken by Wuthering Heights are those set, however sincerely (or foolishly), on the prospect of a faithful cinematic translation of a classic. For viewers at the skeptical end of the spectrum about Fennell’s filmmaking to date, the dubious choices on display may play less like disappointment than a grueling but finally gratifying kind of validation: It’s “very enjoyable.” (Adam Nayman in The Ringer)

 Film as a medium requires compression and most subplots do not survive, but Brontë’s novel was never meant to be easily digested. 

When adaptations oversexualize characters, viewers are offered something more consumable. Was this a missed opportunity for Fennell to make a social commentary on race and class? Do modern adaptations assume viewers cannot comprehend depth? Or, do viewers prefer it that way? 

“Wuthering Heights,” the movie, is a hit. It is ambitious and emotionally resonant. But it still calls into question our modern appetite for complexity. Do audiences still crave the sharpness of a classic, or is the pretense of sophistication enough to sell? (Aditi Allam in The Flat Hat)

 I was astonished. I was mesmerized. I was in profound thought. The realization of how much human connection can mean hit me deeply during Wuthering Heights. The theme of a forever-relationship taking place in the late 1800s spoke to me, especially in an era in which there were no technological advancements. 

Instead, only-face-to-face interactions which resulted in immersive moments of love. Fennell brings audiences on a journey that is one-of-a-kind. Not everyone may understand it at first, but the dramatics are a wild adventure that is all about love and how much it can hurt. (Tarek Fayoumi in Positively Naperville)

 A sensual, stylised and satiric interpretation of Brontë's classic novel. (Jane Freebury in The Daily Advertiser)

 Do I recommend this movie? Well, not to my mother. But if you’re anything like me and you enjoy stylized period adaptations that lean more into fantasy than accuracy, then go for it. (Steven Leatherwood in Indiana Daily Student)

 It's dangerous to see the movie with your mother, as this fellow warns you.

The Mirror thinks that Emerald Fennell has romanticized Heathcliff too much, and the author has a point:

This movie plays with the erotic - but never quite gets it right. The reason for this is Wuthering Heights is not a vehicle for sexual fantasies. Fennell’s “Wuthering Heights” has all the porno tropes: choking; quickies in the back of a car (or in this case, a carriage); dirty talk. There’s even a peeping tom scene as Cathy ventures into voyeurism as she watches through the floorboards as two servants do the deed. One says to the other: “Have you been a bad girl?” as his amour walks through horse bridles, before it is placed on her head.

Yet there is one sexualisation of the text that sits very uncomfortably with me. Heathcliff in the original text murders dogs for the hell of it. He imprisons and rapes Isabella (played by Alison Oliver). He is a character of untold evil, brooding for literally years over his hatred at Cathy’s rejection of him. Yet, his treatment of Isabella is portrayed as a dominant/submissive relationship. He climbs in Isabella’s window and tells her exactly what he will do: he will not love her. He will hurt her. Throughout he asks: “Do you want me to stop?” Isabella nods her consent.

This act of consent neuters the evil that Heathcliff is known for. Brontë’s text shows his acts as calculated, deliberate, and completely abhorrent. Yet, in Fennell’s “Wuthering Heights”, this evil is boiled down to a kink.

Young viewers, who may not have read the text, may understand Heathcliff as Fennell shows him to be: a romantic hero striving at all costs to be with his one true love. When they eventually pick up Brontë’s Wuthering Heights, will they read his sadism as acts of love to be tolerated? Incel culture and misogyny is on the rise. We could do without translating it into something to be doe-eyed about. (Aimée Walsh)

Rhiannon Lucy Cosslett in The Guardian thinks that

Wuthering Heights is at its heart a story of class and race. Emerald Fennell has got it all wrong.

By turning the novel into just a corset-heaving love story, the director has stripped it of what made it so boundary-pushing. (...)

It’s difficult, when watching Emerald Fennell’s “Wuthering Heights”, not to imagine what Emily Brontë would have made of it. Before I get into it, I feel obliged to state that although I love the book I am not a purist. I often relish creative reinterpretations of classics. Admittedly, this one came with a fair few red flags, from the casting of Margot Robbie (simply too old, Cathy is a teenager) and Jacob Elordi (simply too white, Heathcliff, while his origins are uncertain, is described as darker skinned) to the unhinged marketing and crass brand tie-ins.

Nevertheless, I was still excited to see it. So why did I leave the cinema not only bored, but feeling a little bit sad? Fennell said she wanted to make the film she imagined at 14, the age at which many of us read the novel in English class. Fennell focuses almost entirely on the “love story” at the expense of almost all of the novel’s other themes. Of course, if you’re a teenager in love, the doomed connection between Cathy and Heathcliff does captivate, although as an abuser who hangs a dog, Heathcliff is not exactly fanciable. I do understand the impulse behind Fennell’s fan-fictiony desire to have them consummate their love, when Brontë, who probably never touched a man her entire life, left all that desire unrealised. Horniness at the expense of all else, however, can feel terribly hollow. (...)

Ultimately, the film was an act of cynical co-option by someone who didn’t understand the molten core of this novel and its groundbreaking approach to class, race and gender, or chose not to. And that’s why it made me feel so bored, and sad.

Which, of course, is true. The novel is all about that. But not only that. There are many Wuthering Heights in Wuthering Heights and what happens is that yours is not Emerald Fennell's. 

Angelika May wonders in The Guardian why film directors are afraid of casting Yorkshire actors as Cathy Earnshaw. She stops short of calling it cultural appropriation.

Amber Barry, a PhD researcher in Victorian literature at King’s College London, says: “The Yorkshire moors illuminate Cathy and Heathcliff’s story particularly within the context of working-class demonstrations at the time. Can we call this Wuthering Heights if such a crucial setting is reduced to a flat, vaguely gothic backdrop?”

As a Bradford-born actor, I have experienced barriers in the arts first-hand, and I believe casting choices such as Fennell’s preserve a system that undervalues northern women. Of course, acting is a transformational craft – performers are expected to inhabit lives far removed from their own, myself included. But the issue is not that actors shouldn’t extend beyond their lived experience. The question is far broader: when a major production depicts a didactic novel steeped in landscape, dialect and cultural identity, why should those from that region be denied such life-changing opportunities? It’s not about choosing between A-listers and regionally authentic actors, it’s about asking why so few actors from Bradford have ever reached the visibility necessary to be considered at all.

Motion Pictures interviews Suzie Davis, production designer for Wuthering Heights 2026:

With this hyper-stylized and hyper-sexualized interpretation of the literary classic, Fennell has said that she “wanted to make something that was the book that I experienced when I was 14.” Davies was intrigued as soon as she read the script. “When I read her stage directions, I remember thinking, ‘Oh my God, I can’t believe she wants to do this! How am I going to do it?’” Davies’ second project with Fennell, after Saltburn, has been “one of the most exciting experiences as a production designer. There were so many unusual yet wondrous ideas on every page, from the dollhouse to the skin room [Catherine’s bedroom]. I felt immensely privileged that we were going to try to create that subconscious vision that everyone has when they read a book or listen to a story. Everyone has their own visuals in their mind, but very rarely do you get the opportunity to bring that to life.” (...)

That top shot when Heathcliff goes to see Catherine after she dies is beautifully shot, as he lumbers up that rectangular staircase to her bedroom. What does that symbolize?

We nearly didn’t do those stairs. I could’ve gone with a Regency or Georgian-shaped staircase; a spiral might’ve been the obvious choice. But in this case, necessity being the mother of invention, I had one space where I could build that staircase, and I wanted to fill it as much as possible. The rectangular staircase is really unusual and makes you feel uneasy. It’s a white marble staircase with red fur hanging from the bottom to give it different textures. He slowly goes up those stairs to find Cathy dead — the power of that scene. As [Cinematographer] Linus [Sandgren] and Emerald held that shot, you hold your breath until you can’t hold it anymore. As he walks into the light at the end of the bedroom, up those stairs, that’s such a powerful moment. (Su Fang Tham)

Glamour thinks that period dramas don't need period costumes – and “Wuthering Heights” is the proof.

Them explores the queerness in Nelly's character:

Nelly is not a canonically queer character, and though she used queer content for shock value in Saltburn, Fennell shies away from most queer subtext in Wuthering Heights, with exceptions like a sapphic crush disappointingly framed as a jokey signifier of mental instability. But while not explicitly queer, Nelly is in a marginalized position as a servant and an unmarried woman. (In the novel, she’s sometimes called “Mrs. Dean,” but this appears to be simply an honorific; no husband is ever seen.) Though she’s surrounded by people desperately trying to negotiate marriages like business transactions, Nelly doesn't have the option to marry up, and her class status informs her view of the people and dynamics around her. (Megan Burbank) 

Infobae (Argentina) thinks that the film is an (intolerable) fiftyshadesofgreyfication of Wuthering Heights. Also on Infobae, Wuthering Heights (the novel) is among Amazon Mexico's best-sellers. Den of Geek asks a fair question: "Why does book fidelity seem to matter only when applied to Emerald Fennell?"

Now, some Charli XCX's Wuthering Heights reviews:

The soundtrack is an exercise in experimentation for the artist, to which she is lyrically attached above all. For long-time fans of the British artist, Wuthering Heights is a great body of work that sees her return to her earliest sound but incorporating everything she’s learned over the years and her expansive, ever-changing career. Charli reminds us again that she’s an incredible lyricist and producer, that she knows what she wants to sound and look like, and the worlds she’d like to inhabit and explore through music and art. (Toni Casal in Metal)

Overall, “Wuthering Heights” is a bold and compelling addition to xcx’s discography, highlighting her growth as an artist. From haunting lyrics to high-energy instrumentals, xcx demonstrates her versatility, blending her signature pop sound with a darker, more cinematic edge. The album makes the perfect soundtrack for the film, immersing listeners in the passion, obsession and heartbreak of the story. (Lexi Bunting in  Indiana Daily Student)

 But at least since Kate Bush’s ‘Wuthering Heights’, the prospect of musically reimagining the story of Catherine Earnshaw and Heathcliff – if you want to reduce it to that – must have been all too daunting. Not for Charli XCX, who, after reading Emerald Fennell’s screenplay and being asked to contribute an original song for her inevitably steamy adaptation, decided to do a full album – not a soundtrack, certainly not a score dotted with a couple of pop songs, but a conceptual record attempting to match the infernal yearning Margot Robbie and Jacob Elordi arguably bring to the screen. It does – makes it more convincing, even – but the album is so front-loaded it eventually stops sounding like a passion project, which is worse than having it tumble into madness. (Konstantinos Pappis in Our Culture)

Wuthering Heights was directly inspired by the film of the same name, and I applaud Charli XCX for taking a leap of faith here by stretching her creative muscles into uncharted waters for her. I really enjoyed the majority of this album, but the last few songs were a bit too “samey” to fully realize her vision for this record. The best news from this record is that Charli XCX has rekindled her creativity and seems poised for another big breakout when she drops her next LP. (Adam Grundy in Chrous.fm)

 The album that could’ve been is spelled out there: one that, like the most feverish and unrelenting of love, tortures and tears you open in delight, challenges you and takes you out of yourself, leaving you open, lacerated, raw, and dripping like a wound. Yet so many of Wuthering Heights’s songs feel too easy, especially for Charli XCX of all people. Love is a dangerous game, after all, but here you can’t help feeling Charli is playing it safe. (Lydia Wei in Paste)

Infobae recommends The Tenant of Wildfell Hall.