Late one night, an 18-year-old Kate Bush wrote her song ‘Wuthering Heights’ without having read its namesake novel by Emily Brontë. She hadn’t even seen a full adaptation. Her inspiration came after catching the last few minutes of a 1967 TV version of the book in which Catherine Earnshaw’s ghost begs to be let in at Heathcliff’s window.Emerald Fennell’s “Wuthering Heights” has a strikingly similar origin. The writer-director has described wanting to make the version of the book she imagined when she read it at age 14. Hence, the scare quotes around the film’s title, and its pointed departures from the text that produced hysteria online before the full-length trailer was even released. The teaser, in particular, painted the film as an erotic-thriller-cum-fairytale: a wet and wild affair with notes of Marie Antoinette, Gone With The Wind and The Handmaiden. And yet, provocation seems to be the whole point. By way of the sensuous imagery, and by playing up the on- and off-screen chemistry of its leads Margot Robbie and Jacob Elordi, a seemingly never-ending discourse gave way to packed cinemas on opening weekend, and global box-office results.It was clear from the marketing that this film would adopt a bodice-ripper interpretation of the novel, accentuating the romance and the sex with a Mills & Boon-esque poster, and a tagline ("Come undone") that seemed pilfered from Fifty Shades. This came full circle in a scene in which Heathcliff lifts Cathy up by her bodice. That is, until she resists his amorous advances, and he puts her down.The truth is that the film skirts around the hardcore porn-on-the-Moors viewers might have been anticipating. There’s an absence of nudity, and of barbarism beyond what is basically included for laughs. Despite a penchant for murderous dirty talk, Cathy’s love interest is not a callous dom – his most serious crime is being exceptionally horny. Elordi’s Heathcliff tells Cathy what feels like hundreds of times during their encounters how much he loves her. This is not the revenge-poisoned Heathcliff from the novel who cannot be trusted around dogs.While many of us were expecting – or even hoping for – a more brutish Heathcliff, one that reflects the wicked character in the book, it is perhaps no wonder that Fennell chose to keep her hero on the side of the harmless heartthrobs. One of the most appealing aspects of the bodice-ripper genre is that it allows readers to imagine sex, and even cruelty, within a format they control, and on their own terms. In teenage Fennell’s imagination, this barbaric anti-hero is softened, and the choice seems designed to align with the commercial success the film was destined to achieve.Such a loose adaptation style turns the film into fanfiction. It’s a well-calibrated decision, considering the majority of viewers will not have pored over – or even witnessed the last few minutes of a TV version of – the book. This approach is most evident in moments that flauntingly defy reality. The lovers are almost frighteningly alone on the Moors, in the Linton house, in the garden. One is left wondering: where are the other characters, the servants? Where, in fact, is the shame? There is none. Within a fantasy, the pair are able to experience passion, at least for a time, without consequence or interruption.By straying far from the original story, Fennell creates something so original that cinema goers simply cannot agree on what they’ve seen. Some say it "spark[s] a deep lizard-brained pleasure"; many are "disappointed and upset"; the ratings are through the roof. This divisiveness is a feat in itself, especially when today’s criticism scene is defined by the mounting pressure to give every piece of media a simpering, sycophantic review, or else be called out for not letting "people enjoy things". The two women (Robbie and Fennell) at the heart of this controversy are seasoned provocateurs. Indeed, it’s hard to point to any other film in recent years that has generated this much uproar while becoming a zeitgeist-defining, merchandise-selling mega-hit – except, of course, Barbie.Fennell’s film winds you up. It taunts you, baiting and switching until you come away feeling slightly dizzy and slightly foolish. As the motion picture receives a thorough drubbing from critics, one cannot shake the image of a 14-year-old hiding in the wings and laughing uproariously at the fuss she has caused. It’s a form of schadenfreude not just reserved for children; it appears as a through-line in all of Fennell’s works to date, but is most fully realised here. Saltburn, especially, seemed formulated to stir up impassioned post-viewing debate. With “Wuthering Heights” she goes a step further. In choosing a pillar of the literary canon as her source material, Fennell guarantees audiences would be hand-wringing, sweating and clamouring to share their opinions – from the moment of its announcement until weeks after its opening.The heart-stopping visuals complement this teenage dreamworld. Cathy is cloaked in billowing fabrics and gauzy veils, her lower half swallowed by red full-skirted gowns. Heathcliff goes from rugged and sweaty to Mr Darcy, à la Colin Firth, with the face of a boyband member. The two run from and towards one another on a delightfully wild landscape: rolling hills jutted with clusters of expressionistic rocks, perpetually stricken by fog or rain. The Linton home is a doll house of gaucheness and glamour, and all of it glistens on VistaVision film. No expense was spared. The limitless budget reflects the limitless possibilities of a schoolgirl’s imagination.Like Bush, Fennell’s creative power is unrestrained by convention; they both created works that soar in their wide-eyed wonder. Fanfiction, after all, is the way in which most highbrow literature is circulated among the masses, whether through reimagining or lyrical inspiration. Taylor Swift, after all, is responsible for introducing TikTok teens to Dylan Thomas and Hamlet. Fennell’s unabashed style succeeds in making the gruesome act of adapting a work obvious. What others are scared to touch, she rips in half, dousing the remains in a medley of suggestive fluids. And if the box-office numbers are anything to go off, perhaps a bold, brash approach is exactly what cinema needs. (Daniella Parete Clarke)
Some filmmakers work within genre constraints. Others push against them. Still others think hard about how to subvert them. But Fennell does something altogether different and with such glee that even when I feel as if I’m drowning in her excess, I can’t help but love it: She swallows genres whole, like some kind of directorial Kirby, then regurgitates them according to her own vision.The results retain traces of some corner of her subconscious; her exhilarating dream logic always teeters between ecstasy and nightmare. It is heady and feminine and I find it, more often than not, delicious.“Wuthering Heights” fits this mode, even more than her previous two films (“Saltburn” and “Promising Young Woman”), and it embodies what’s singular about her work. In the foreword to a new edition of Emily Brontë’s novel, she writes that Brontë’s book is too slippery to cram into a two-hour movie, and thus “what I have attempted to do is adapt my own experience of reading it for the first time.”And her “Wuthering Heights” is indeed less an adaptation of a classic text than it is an adaptation of a feeling. Somehow it’s very dirty and very chaste at the same time. There is plenty of sex, and yet the maximum amount of nudity allowed is a topless Heathcliff. We understand there are some sadomasochistic goings-on but we, like Cathy, are not allowed to watch, only to listen. Yet all of this may make sense.Imagine yourself a 16-year-old girl, inexperienced, naïve, stumbling across “Wuthering Heights” — the novel, I mean. There’s no one in the world but these characters and their chilly windswept moors, their doll’s house lives filled with misery and longing. You picture these strange places, with their strange names, inhabited by wild, cruel, passionate lovers and lunatics.There’s nothing explicitly sexual, and yet you’re no fool: You can sense an erotic undercurrent. Now imagine, in your daydreams, Brontë’s story begins to mix with the bodice-rippers you sneak from your favorite aunt’s bookshelf. You can’t quite bring yourself to imagine Brontë’s characters in those settings, but snatches of that fantasy snag on your psyche nonetheless.That’s Fennell’s “Wuthering Heights,” and the degree to which you enjoy it may depend on your intimacy with that feeling. This is why I have now come to eagerly anticipate a new Fennell release, even if I still think “Promising Young Woman” was mostly an interesting failure. Her movies have a feverish, obsessive quality, and so do her characters, always getting into a lather over something, doing destructive and gross things to feed their desire.Take the fact that “Wuthering Heights” and “Saltburn” both seem concocted at least in some measure to give her camera an excuse to linger on Jacob Elordi. In each film, his character — Heathcliff, Felix — arranges himself before others in a manner calculated to maximize his appeal, then smirks knowingly. And the people who covet him, who don’t want to but can’t help themselves, are driven mad with desire, willing to risk their dignity to get him for a moment. That kind of thing used to happen in studio movies all the time but is not so easy to find these days. It’s impudent. He’s got you. She’s got you. [...]Then there is “Wuthering Heights,” which boils Brontë’s novel — which is about cruelty and passion, but also class and inheritance and even race — down to what lingers after you read it: Heathcliff’s all-consuming, undeniably physical obsession with Cathy, who returns his ardor. In so doing, Fennell proclaims that this classic you probably read in high-school English is fundamentally a romance for the ages. To overintellectualize it is to do it a disservice. (Alissa Wilkinson)
Wesley Morris, host of “Cannonball,” and Sasha Weiss, the culture editor of The New York Times Magazine, discuss Emerald Fennell’s steamy film adaptation of the novel “Wuthering Heights.”
The debate over Emerald Fennell’s Wuthering Heights has splintered into two factions that ultimately agree on the facts. Fans of the movie think it delivers style over substance in a good way, while detractors think it prioritizes style over substance in a bad one. But while it’s fair to say that Fennell favors flashy sensuality over meaty storytelling, it’s not entirely fair to say there’s no substance to her candy-colored, Charli xcx-soundtracked riff on Emily Brontë’s classic novel. In fact, there’s actually an underappreciated core to Fennell’s loose adaptation. Her Wuthering Heights may market itself as a dark and steamy Valentine’s Day romance, but at its heart it’s actually a story of childhood trauma bonds run amok. [...]This fuels Fennell’s pointed critique of the patriarchal forces that undergird upper-class British nobility in the 18th century. Because a landed man is considered the highest authority, there’s no social or child protective services to call when he’s misusing that power. Instead, his staff and family must simply bend to his various whims and power plays. Wuthering Heights deploys a lot of dollhouse imagery, and Cathy, Heathcliff, and Nelly might as well be dolls Mr. Earnshaw is playing with as he shouts “I am the kindest man alive!” into the void.It’s an idea Brontë explores too, although in a very different place in the novel. In Brontë’s original story, the saga continues on after Cathy’s death with a second generation of characters who find themselves living under Heathcliff’s isolated, abusive thumb. Hindley’s strapping heir, Cathy’s strong-willed daughter, and Heathcliff’s own sickly son are left to build complicated bonds with one another while Heathcliff lures them all to Wuthering Heights and tries his best to emotionally destroy their lives as revenge for his own suffering.While Fennell—like most Wuthering Heights adaptors—cuts that part of the story, she intentionally folds some of its themes into her streamlined adaptation. Though she reimagines Heathcliff as a far kinder, more sympathetic figure than he is in the novel, her dark take on Mr. Earnshaw gets at some of the patriarchal abuse that Brontë is interested in too. It’s like Fennell has collapsed the two generations into her Cathy/Heathcliff/Nelly dynamic, which is a clever way to engage with the novel’s core ideas without adapting its plot beat-for-beat.It’s a shame, then, that after such a strong start, Fennell’s ideas lose steam in the film’s second half. More than anything, Wuthering Heights is a movie about three codependent people who are absolutely terrified of the idea of getting left behind. And Fennell’s exploration of Cathy, Heathcliff, and Nelly’s fraught bond reaches its climax in a scene where Nelly actively manipulates a miscommunication between her “siblings.” In the novel, Heathcliff accidentally overhears Cathy say she could never marry him. In the movie, however, Nelly intentionally provokes Cathy’s confession once she realizes Heathcliff is listening outside the door. She blows up Cathy and Heathcliff’s love, just as she felt her love for Cathy was blown up by Heathcliff.After that, Fennell seems less sure what to do with the themes she’s set up. Once Cathy marries her neighbor Edgar Linton (Shazad Latif) and Heathcliff disappears and returns a rich, dashing man, Wuthering Heights devolves into a style-over-substance fantasia. There are fun montages showing off the over-the-top production design of the Linton family home and some “provocative” adaptation changes—like making Heathcliff’s relationship with Isabella Linton (Alison Oliver) a consensual BDSM one, rather than an abusive marriage. But because Fennell has frontloaded all the interesting emotional drama into the first half of the movie, there’s nowhere for her characters to go as Cathy and Heathcliff finally start consummating their relationship.There are still sharp moments here and there, like when Cathy tells Nelly, “You like to see me cry,” and Nelly counters, “Not half as much as you like crying.” Or the way Cathy responds to her father’s eventual death with both grief and violent relief. Fennell effectively renders her central trio as people too stunted by their childhood traumas to ever really mature into adulthood. But in the rush to make Wuthering Heights a sexy, smutty, earnest romance, Fennell’s spikier themes fall by the wayside. Nelly is positioned as the ultimate tragic antihero, given that her vengeful meddling in Cathy’s life results in Cathy’s death. But the film doesn’t care about the character enough to make that twist land. Instead, Wuthering Heights devolves into a more basic Romeo And Juliet-style tragedy.Still, there’s something to Fennell’s adaptation. In some ways, it’s a soft choice to make Heathcliff a more sympathetic romantic lead rather than the complicated, cruel figure he is in the novel. But given that Brontë ultimately ends with a sense of hope about children being able to break the cycles of abuse set by their parents, amping up Mr. Earnshaw as an antagonist and giving that hopeful arc to Heathcliff instead still (sort of) tracks with what the novel is trying to explore. That alone won’t please the Brontë purists, but it does prove that Fennell’s flexible reimagining is more than its quotation marks. (Caroline Siede)
Following up from it being like a TikTok book adaptation, I resented that it was advertised as a women’s chickflick and I hated the marketing for the movie. For instance, in her appearance at Jimmy Kimmel Live, Robbie talks about arranging a private screening of the movie for her friends, describing them as “frothing at the mouth” for Elordi. This is just crude and tasteless. Another example is the Wuthering Heights lingerie ads that pop up whenever I am on social media. People can enjoy this movie and people can like movies with a little smut, but what I hate is when this is just associated with women and what women like. This approach divides sex into what men like and what women like, enforcing a socially constructed idea of what desire is for people. Because of this, the movie and the marketing for it feel very insincere and misogynistic: a dumbed-down version of a very intricate story made very shallow, fit for women’s viewing. We all have our guilty pleasures, but there is no need to associate them with gender. Otherwise, it creates this perception that any unsophisticated movie will be labeled as a “chick movie”. This ultimately makes the feminine seem less intellectually stimulating.I have to admit that I still had a good time when I was able to not think of it as an adaptation of the book. I went with my flatmates on Valentine’s Day and we had such a good time in the cinema, sharing gasps and laughs with many other friend groups like ours. It’s a bit like watching Twilight. It doesn’t have a lot of substance but it still manages to be entertaining. (Lara Begüm Yener)
There’s been a lot of controversy about the casting of Jacob Elordi, a white Australian, as Heathcliffe in Emerald Fennel’s adaptation of Wuthering Heights, particularly that a white man could portray a character, who although never explicitly stated to be what we in 2026 would call a racial minority, has been deemed by many readers to be one.I fundamentally disagree with the ideas that portraying Heathcliff as a minority increases the literary fidelity of a given adaptation. Brontë’s Heathcliff is described as [excusing the now slurs] a “dark-skinned gipsy”, “Lascar”, or “an American or Spanish castaway”. His racial identity is ambiguous, and I must admit, when I first read the novel, I did not assume him to even be more than a shiftless, wraithlike character. He appears as a “devil” and a “blackguard”, a term with unknown etymology, but no apparent reference to race. The point is Heathcliff is as a character both within the novel, and subtextually, a portrayal of the Other. Thus, to portray him as any one race – and there are arguments that Heathcliff’s racial ambiguity is used to investigate the treatment of the Irish during the 1840s, during the Potato Famine – or even to explore colonial stereotypes and projects that Victorian’s had, all in one novel is what makes it a masterpiece. If you define Heathcliffe’s race monomodally, you also reduce the nebulousness of his gender, and the theme of gender, and the themes of class, both of which Emily Brontë is grappling with in the novel.A corollary to this argument is that Heathcliff as a racialised character, “going from victim to abuser”, is thus adequate representation for racialised people. This is an argument I disagree with. By attempting to sympathise with Heathcliff because of his Otherness, we reduce him from his actual role within the novel, that of a human character. He is both tyrant and victim: there is no transformation from any one singular state to the other, precisely because the novel is a critique of the Enlightenment, through its place within the Romantic canon. It is a brilliant novel as it grapples and diverts the cultural and social practises of its time in such a brilliant way. That is why it’s a classic. To view a gothic text through the lens of likeability or being problematic is emblematic of this media literacy crisis.I am not proposing that Heathcliff must be white, as whiteness is the norm it is not the blank slate upon which the ambiguities of his character are drawn on. Instead, I fundamentally disagree that one can even compress the novel through a visual medium. Any interpretation is not designed to be a slavish reproduction, aiming to capture the essence of the original work of art it is based upon. Instead, the new medium is in itself worthy of standing on its own: one sees the work of the creative team behind the film to explore the film through their individual perspectives.Even from an identitarian perspective, I would not want the only representation of my race to be that of Heathcliff. I am acutely aware of the structural constraints of my life. I am aware that my identity is that of the fifth column. Yet, I would want it to be explored from my own mouth, from my own perspective. Emily Brontë’s mastery and genius is well examined, but both intertextually and meta-textually, Heathcliff is only explored through the voice of the (white) nararator Nelly, or through Brontë herself. I disagree with the assertion that a non-white voice would be better placed, or could do a better job, but racialised people deserve a chance to try (and fail) to create art on their own terms.As a final note, I do not think Fennel’s adaption is good; having seen it, I think it will be viewed in retrospect as the perfect representation of art and its reception in society in the 2020s. The libidinous undercurrents, designed to shock the over-repressed and under-sexed Victorians, have been replaced by their opposite: a sanitised glossing for oversexed and under-repressed generation Z. We witness sex scenes and appropriated kink in lieu of the primordial tension at the heart of the novel, just as we see this within the “Romantasy” genre, or even in shows such as Heated Rivalry. Romance – best enjoyed, best exhibited within the subconscious, expressed as subtext – does not work when tropified and turned into pure graphic excess. To do so, fetishises our own human nature.Perhaps, it will be seen as camp or perhaps, it is a moment of cultural reckoning for Hollywood and film as a medium. Wuthering Heights, the novel, had a mixed, if not negative reaction during its initial release. However, I doubt that the film will receive the same reappraisal. (Mohammad Majlisi)
It is deeply troubling that the drive of Brontë’s Isabella, a survivor of domestic abuse, has been reread to dramatically absolve her abuser. The girl sobbing behind me as the credits rolled attests to the success of this exoneration. Really, she should be crying over the scripting of violent abuse as consensual play. (Anna Drury)
Emily Brontë challenged traditional, narrow Victorian minds with her novel, which is probably why she published it first under a male pseudonym, and it was met with outrage and comments on its ‘vulgar depravity and unnatural horrors.’ But still she did it, and what a feat that was.Although the point of Emerald Fennell’s Wuthering Heights adaptation is certainly more Gothic pleasure than societal commentary, and don’t get me wrong, I love it for that, an understanding of its historic context brings a whole new level of meaning to the story. Fennell cleverly weaves these ideas into her film that you may not have noticed otherwise, from the rich splendour of Cathy’s married life to the dark, brooding world of Heathcliff’s, and I think Emily Brontë would have loved it, really. (Henrietta Easton)
If you want a sleek, hot, stylized thrill ride through the moors, the Robbie and Elordi version that riffs off the director’s vision more than the author’s intent is your Friday night or post-Valentine’s day plan.But if you want to dive a little deeper into the feeling of a love that’s a little more PG-13, even if it’s a little melodramatic, check your old tapes for the Filipino version with the Batanes cliffs.While Hollywood had the budget for glossy aesthetics that provoke and seduce, the scenes in our local “Wuthering Heights” are more grounded—going beyond passion alone, stripping the story down to obsession and its consequences, with unchecked love not portrayed as fantasy, but as ruin. (Lala Singian-Serzo)
Listen, we don’t mind why fans are pulling Wuthering Heights off the shelves and giving it a much-deserved read; we’re just glad that this iconic book is inspiring a whole new group of fans to do wild, mad things for love. (Trent Cannon)
From the cinematography to the costumes and soundtrack, this movie was breathtaking. It checked off everything a BookTok girl could ever want. However, for Brontë readers, the movie might not exactly have lived up to expectations like it did for us who melt for a whimsy storyline. (Rhenna Sexton)
In both the movie and novel, we witness Catherine say how it would degrade her to marry Heathcliff. Her degradation would not have come close to the indignity the source material of Wuthering Heights faced in Fennell’s new adaptation. Characters are mutated to better fit the shape of the whitewashed version of Cathy and Heathcliff’s romance; the most intriguing parts of the novel are replaced with copious amounts of finger sucking, and the themes of Brontë’s original masterpiece are nowhere to be found, or worse, turned on their heads entirely. But, hey, at least Charli XCX sounded great. (Kendall Meachum)
It’s fair to criticize the film for its straying from the source material and rejecting many of the themes that book readers respect about Bronte’s masterpiece. Admittedly, “Wuthering Heights” isn’t a sacred text to me, so I was not as bothered by such a large change. Especially because going into the film, I knew it was going to be different. Fennell was clear from early on that this adaptation of the story was going to diverge substantially from the source material; this is why the title intentionally has quotations. Instead of focusing on the changes, I enjoyed the movie for what it was, a visually striking, toxic romance. I just want to clearly caution that those expecting a strict book adaptation need to know what they are going into and prepare accordingly.I knew I was going to like “Wuthering Heights,” but I didn’t know just how much I was going to love it. More than anything, the film (and its press tour) started to slightly conjure feelings from my “Titanic”-obsessed adolescence, where I watched the film over and over in theaters and devoured anything the actors did to promote the film. Will I watch this film as many times as I did “Titanic?” No, but I will definitely be seeing it again in theaters… and I implore you to see it in theaters as well. The brilliant score, gorgeous cinematography, and Elordi and Robbie’s beautiful faces should be enjoyed on the loudest, crispest screen you can find.
Some critics have been frustrated that the movie doesn’t capture every detail from the novel, and while I may feel the same way, I think that approach seems intentional. Director Emerald Fennell brings a creative twist to the story, focusing more on the emotional interpretation than accuracy. She ties in her creative styles through the modernized wardrobe, passionate scenes and intense colors. This version offers a different perspective that still respects the emotional core of the original.Overall, “Wuthering Heights” is beautifully painful, emotionally intense, symbolic and well worth watching. It may not be a critics favorite, but it has clearly captured countless viewers’ attention. It reflects the devastating heartbreak that has ultimately kept this story alive for nearly 200 years. (Sara Camino)
The cinematography is easily the film’s strongest element. From the delicate candle lighting in the Grange household to the dramatic color shifts that mirror the emotion of each scene, every frame feels intentional. The contrast between the gloomy, off-kilter shots at the Heights and the warmer, more refined symmetrical framing at the Grange visually reinforces the social and emotional divide central to the story.The orchestral score, composed by Anthony Willis, carries much of the film’s emotional weight. Pop artist Charli XCX reinterpreted themes from the score into a companion album that is also incorporated into the film. While her additions are not necessary for the film to succeed musically, they bring a contemporary layer that adds something fresh to Brontë’s classic story. [...]Despite divided reception, the film stands out for its visual ambition and atmospheric execution. It earns a 3.5 out of 5.For viewers drawn to dramatic romance and striking cinematography, “Wuthering Heights” offers a visually immersive experience that is worth seeing on the big screen. (Sawer DeWitt)
As austere as the windy-whipped, fog-choked moors by which they are surrounded, “‘Wuthering Heights’,” does provide some needed comic relief in the form of Isabella. To Oliver’s credit, she steals every single scene in which she appears. It doesn’t matter whether Isabella is fawning over Cathy, destroying the doll she made in Cathy’s likeness, or becoming Heathcliff’s tortured submissive, Oliver rises to the occasion whenever she’s on screen. Elordi, and his hairy, muscular chest are a decent distraction, but not enough to make it worth sitting through two hours and fifteen minutes of Margot Robbie’s scenery chewing (sorry, Margot). The blame falls squarely on Fennell’s shoulders, for whom the third time was definitely not the charm. (Gregg Shapiro)
There is one thing both enjoyers and critics of this movie have notably agreed on: the film itself isn’t objectively bad as a stand-alone. Many suggest it would’ve been much more enjoyable as a “perverse standalone Gothic fever dream”, rather than a poor attempt at interpreting a beloved nearly two-century old novel. Elordi (Heathcliff) has especially been commended for his acting ability, with many expressing disappointment that he had not been given a “better” script.With the release of “Wuthering Heights” (2026), Fennell unintentionally sparked widespread online discussion of art, politics, and the way they’re inevitably intertwined. While looking through the many complex reactions and justified criticism towards this film, one truth becomes inescapable: art directly reflects the society producing it. (Finley Hill)
The cinematography of the film was atmospheric, with the shots panning over the Moors some of the most impressive in the film. The initial montage that shows Cathy’s early days at Thrushcross Grange feels overly-manufactured and out of place, especially when considering the preceding events. Lighting is also used to great effect in furthering the sense of intimacy in some scenes and reflecting the emotional storm brewing between characters in others.At times, the score felt out of place, almost like a music video, notably during Charli xcx’s ‘House’ and ‘Wall of Sound.’ However, Olivia Chaney’s ‘Dark Eyed Sailor’ and most of Charli xcx’s other contributions are effective in adding to the emotion of the scene.“Wuthering Heights” is a visually impressive film with quality performances, but lacks emotional depth and complex characters. The dependency on overt sex scenes to shock and distract from what is a lacklustre film does not go unnoticed, as its marketing as an intense, erotic adaptation is not quite realised.Even when viewing the film in isolation and disregarding the novel, it feels superficial and unentertaining. The novel and this ‘version’ should be viewed as two entirely separate entities, but I fear the novel may be overshadowed by this adaptation for those who have not read the book. (Erin O’Connor)
Margot Robbie embodies Catherine’s spirit, but is almost mechanical in her responses to Heathcliff’s provocations. Though it is meant to be sexual and thrilling, it achieves it performatively, rather than authentically. (Kaveree Bamzai)
If there are redeeming qualities, they lie in the film’s technical craftsmanship. The cinematography is undeniably beautiful. The moors are captured in sweeping, windswept frames that feel vast and unforgiving. Candlelit interiors glow with painterly composition. Visually, it’s a feast.The score is equally strong. It swells and aches with emotion that the dialogue often fails to deliver. There are moments where the music nearly convinces you that the tragedy is landing, even when the performances do not.In the end, this “Wuthering Heights” feels like a case of style overpowering substance. It looks stunning. It sounds stirring. But its central relationship, the very heart of the story, lacks the complexity and authenticity needed to make it resonate.Instead of leaving haunted by their love, I left relieved it was over. (Andrew McManus)
For such a boisterous, visually breathtaking movie, the resulting story feels pretty one-dimensional. When the director favours cheap tricks to shock the audience over thoughtful narrative development, refusing to flesh out her protagonists, a timeless classic is reduced to a gimmick. This doesn’t seem to have put viewers off. The film earned over $83m (£61m) in its opening weekend. If you’re still thinking of buying tickets, I sincerely recommend that you pick up a copy of the book instead. Or perhaps take a trip to Haworth, to experience the magic of Brontë’s beloved moors for yourself. Then, if you’re still dissatisfied, watch the film. (Tilda Gladwell)
The choice to spend half the movie’s runtime before Heathcliff’s return hurts the pacing. Spending more time on Cathy and Heathcliff’s relationship falling apart and adding more nuance to their characters would have gone a long way in making the ending less saccharine. The end of a great love story is something to be mourned, yet I felt relief when the credits started rolling.There are a few things I’ve learned recently that have made this movie make more sense. One is that there appears to be a rise in people reading smut -- I’m not here to judge; more power to them. The other is that Fennell’s last movie was very popular on TikTok.That’s all to say that this film will likely find its audience in an unconventional place. Maybe Emerald Fennell is farther ahead in the film game than people realize, and she’s future-proofing her work for a new generation. Either way, people who want a great romance story with deep characters will likely have to look elsewhere. (Ulises Duenas)
All in all, as you can tell, I did not enjoy the film. I am still shocked about what Fennell did to this beloved classic, and as someone who is very fond of the Brontë sisters, this was an offensive film to Emily Brontë.I hope Emerald Fennel never has the idea to adapt Jane Eyre into film, or if she does, she should at least read the book again after reading it at the age of 13. (Chelsea Dalscheid)
Entire droves of characters that were integral to the novel were erased, relationships were simplified, and the remaining characters were molded like taffy into flattened versions of themselves that were more palatable to a modern obsession with graphic romance. An example is Isabella in the movie, her portrayal is tone deaf. Instead of being a figure that silently empowers women of the time by escaping Heathcliff, who abused her emotionally and physically, she is made to act like a dog in the movie (in reference to her dog that Heathcliff kills in the book), and is a willing participant in his abuses. The entire second half of the novel is missing in the adaptation, where Catherine’s haunting of Heathcliff leads to his descent into madness. Fennell’s decision to end the narrative halfway further speaks to her infatuation with the love story, not what the relationship actually meant between the two characters. By doing this, she strips what makes this novel a Gothic classic. (Zaccary Kimes & Mia Strand)
Not once was I moved, transported, enthralled, what have you. “Wuthering Heights” is a really boring movie made by someone who never would’ve gotten a job in Hollywood 20 years ago. Standards were higher than. Now, most movies look like the trailers at the top of Tropic Thunder, even the Oscar nominees. I’m ready to send in the robots. There’s no way they’ll come up with a worse Wuthering Heights than this one. (Nicky Otis Smith)
Songs like Always Everywhere, which blur the line between classical and electronic textures, offer a Pachabel’s Canon-style comedown for the party generation, while bombastic lead-off single Chains of Love will put to rest any questions about the absence of a Kate Bush cover. New and fresh yet unmistakably written by one of the voices of her generation, it’s a collection that shows an uncompromising artist more plugged in than ever. (Jonathan Seidler)
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