Wuthering Heights Review

As far as adaptations go, I’ve never viewed any source material as sacred, including The Bible. While a faithful adaptation is always welcome, I’m open to a filmmaker leaving their signature on a classic story, especially one that’s been told as many times as Wuthering Heights. Emerald Fennell’s version has been advertised as “Wuthering Heights,” with the quotation marks serving as guardrails. I can’t speak on behalf of every literary purist. Personally, though, I became wrapped up in Fennell’s quotation marks. Fennell’s Wuthering Heights is as unapologetically romanticized as cinematic love stories get. That doesn’t mean the film itself is always romantic. This is the same woman who gave us Promising Young Woman and Saltburn, after all.

Say what you will about Cathy and Heathcliff’s star-crossed romance on paper, but the chemistry is instantaneous from the moment young Charlotte Mellington first lays eyes on Owen Cooper of Adolescence. Cathy and Heathcliff grow up to be played by Margot Robbie and Jacob Elordi, respectively. Elordi’s casting has been among the more contentious choices, as Heathcliff is described as “dark-skinned” in Emily Brontë’s novel. That said, the book never spells out Heathcliff’s race. Considering that Cathy names Heathcliff and her family keeps him as a servant, casting a person of color in the role might’ve sent the wrong message. In any case, Elordi thrives in the role.

Elordi can be effortlessly romantic one minute, shielding Cathy from the rain and her alcoholic father. Yet, he also brings out a darkness in Heathcliff that continues to fester over the years. Cathy’s no angel either, proving just as possessive of Heathcliff as he is of her. When it appears Heathcliff has left Cathy, she settles for the wealthy Edgar Linton (Shazad Latif). She moves into his luxurious estate, Thrushcross Grange, which will surely score production designer Suzie Davies a nomination at next year’s Oscars. Davies’ sets feel alive with hands creeping out of the walls and the interior of Cathy’s room resembling her own flesh, as if she’s becoming one with the scenery.

Likewise, the envious Edgar blends in with his green décor when an old flame comes back into Cathy’s life. Heathcliff returns, now rich, shaven, and able to sneak up on people as if he were Batman. Of course, Cathy and Heathcliff surrender to temptation in what’s easily the sexiest incarnation of Wuthering Heights. It’s also the kinkiest and most twisted. Alison Oliver plays Edgar’s sister Isabella, who’s both the most sexually inexperienced character and the one who would probably be the most open to BDSM. In a film full of flashy production values and performances, Hong Chau brings subtle nuances Cathy’s servant Nelly, who’s looking out for her own best interests. If hearts need to be broken along the way, so be it.

Fennell harkens back to a bygone era of period dramas, echoing Gone with the Wind with one particular shot. At the same time, Fennell injects many modern touches, with a soundtrack from Charli XCX accompanying Anthony Willis’ sweeping musical score. Charli XCX’s songs strangely aren’t a distraction, complementing the overarching sense of longing that follows our main characters throughout the decades. Fennell has made a beautiful film about two people who would be made for each other if only they weren’t a double-edged sword.

Her take on Wuthering Heights won’t be for everyone. It’s a film that many will hate for varying reasons. For some, it’ll deviate too much from the book. For others, it may not prove as shocking as Fennell’s previous work. Either way, one thing’s for certain. The film conveys how Fennell felt when she read Brontë’s novel. It’s hard not to become embroiled in Fennell’s passion for the source material, as well as every aspect of filmmaking in what’s ultimately a love letter to cinema.