It is rare that a period piece film ever takes over the conversation of the movie industry. Of course, period pieces and adaptations of classic novels still absolutely hold a certain level of cultural capital, and the best actors of our time often find their way into such films in order to prove their chops by associating their image and career with that of a beloved character. But no recent period piece has had quite the dialogue surrounding it as Emerald Fennell’s new take on Emily Brontë’s epic novel “Wuthering Heights.” Perhaps it was the inclusion of Charli xcx, the highly contested casting, the themed press junket, the Kate Bush song or the fact that the director is openly admitting to how loose her adaptation is. No matter what drew you into “Wuthering Heights,” it has cemented itself as an undeniably magnetic must-see feature.
I must begin my review with a disclaimer: I have never read “Wuthering Heights.” I know, I know, it is a blasphemous admission for an English major, but according to my friends who have read the novel, it seems that I am the target audience to actually enjoy the movie. Ignorance, in this case, is bliss. I came into the theater with a healthy dose of hesitation—mainly due to the casting of Jacob Elordi as Heathcliff, a character who is a well-established person of color. However, people have begun to label Heathcliff as “ethnically ambiguous,” which allows just enough of a gray area for the possibility that he could be white. It is important to understand that this label was given not because his race is unknown but because Brontë did not specify his direct place of origin. Margot Robbie as Catherine “Cathy” Earnshaw was also criticized for miscasting, as the novel describes the character as a dark-haired teenager. Fennell has validated her decision by explaining that she is bringing to life the vision of “Wuthering Heights” that her 14-year-old self had upon reading the novel for the first time. Elordi and Robbie are, seemingly, the personification of Fennell’s childhood idea of Heathcliff and Cathy. Do I strongly disagree with her? Yes. Do I think the world needs yet another brooding monosyllabic Elordi performance? Nope.
With all this in mind, there are many parts of the movie that I did enjoy. At almost every turn of the story, I was surprised, confused, uncomfortable, fascinated, grossed out and emotional. The aesthetic—both in terms of set design and costumes—the pacing of the movie and the highly dramatized dialogue felt as though Fennell watched Yorgos Lanthimos’s “Poor Things” and Joe Wright’s “Anna Karenina” and decided to mash them together with a sprinkle of Brontë. “Wuthering Heights” made no attempt to be period-accurate but rather played with all the ways in which its lack of accuracy could aid in creating a specifically theatrical approach and energy. The first images that Fennell released of the film gave a peek into the costume design, done by Jacqueline Durran, and set the expectation of a highly stylized film. This remains true, but it is set in conflict with the undeniable body horror elements of the movie. Close-up shots of slugs, a pig carcass, leeches, an excessive amount of blood and other grotesque moments ensure that the audience never feels comfortable for long. The sweeping and tragic relationship between Heathcliff and Cathy is sporadic, and Fennell creates that sense of instability through the disturbing elements that surround their romance.
Robbie, alongside her husband, is also a producer on the film. She has a long-time partnership with Fennell, producing all three of Fennell’s feature films. As much criticism as Fennell has gotten for her outlandish decision for “Wuthering Heights,” it is essential to know that Robbie is endorsing those choices. The well-deserved criticism around Elordi’s casting has quieted the conversation that should be happening about the entire cast. This is not to say that everyone did not give excellent performances because they absolutely did. It was a deliciously camp film that abandoned the constraints of 19th-century literary conventions and had fun doing so.
The film begins with Heathcliff and Cathy as young children, played by Owen Cooper (of “Adolescence” fame) and Charlotte Mellington, respectively. For a film that has been advertised as so explicit and dark, it has a surprisingly tender beginning—a necessary chapter to establish the true love between our protagonists. The twisted and abusive dynamic that eventually takes over their relationship is as complex as it is because, at their core, they are devoted but never quite reach a maturation beyond that of their childhood feelings.
This immaturity is pervasive throughout the film. Cathy and her husband’s ward, Isabella (Alison Oliver), have an obsession with dolls and use them to mirror their own lives, their increasing hatred for each other and their delight at violent acts. The longer that Cathy stays in her husband’s house without Heathcliff’s presence, the more she begins to look like a doll herself, dressed up in frilly, overpowering gowns, her freckles more pronounced, her blush brighter and brighter. She is villainous and confused, stemming from her horrific upbringing and emotional dysregulation. Heathcliff is equally narcissistic and traumatized, enduring endless abuse as a child and pinning his self-worth entirely on Cathy. Their identities are wound up, tangled beyond help, with each other. Fennell plays out this relationship and their enduring tie through physical acts, quickly running the audience through their months-long, guilt-ridden affair. Heathcliff is, however, guilt-free and instead becomes consumed with an even more villainous desire to have Cathy all to himself, no matter how despicable the path to winning her might be. He corrupts Isabella in the process and drives himself to ruin as Cathy begins to slowly die from preeclampsia.
Though Fennell has situated her film as a romance, and Robbie encourages movie-goers to bring their friends and grab a cocktail for the best viewing experience, this story is, in no way, a happy one. Unlike Jane Austen, who ensures her characters end up happily married and their stories are tied up with a bow, Brontë makes no such conclusion. Heathcliff loses Cathy, Cathy loses her life and they both lose their sanity. The character that seems to be the moral backbone of the narrative, Nelly (Hong Chau), turns out to be as villainous as the rest of the motley crew. It is an epic and evil novel, and Fennell has made a movie that is true to that description. She has reopened the conversation on what defines an adaptation as true and loose but remains steadfast in the fact that the creative liberties she takes are in pursuit of bringing forth her “Wuthering Heights,” quotations included. The audience in theater 14 of the Regal Galleria Mall undoubtedly laughed, gasped and cried through the film, just as readers of Brontë’s novel would have done. So I say, put on some Charli and Kate Bush, tune out your literary criticisms and take this film as a piece of work independent of its source material.