GREENSBORO, N.C. — A little bit of backstory – my affinity for Wuthering Heights has always been fairly minimal. I first read Emily Brontë’s novel back in the twilight years of middle school long before I could fully grasp just how dark and emotionally brutal the story truly was. Still, my wife and I went into Emerald Fennell’s adaptation expecting a bold reinterpretation of modern relevance. Instead, what I got was not only a character assassination of Brontë’s work… but of the audience’s intelligence.
Losely adapted from the 1847 novel by Emily Bronte, Wuthering Heights follows Cathy and Heathcliff whose deep childhood bond evolves into a passionate but deeply destructive relationship. Amidst 18th century societal expectations that drift them apart, their relationship, as years go by, turns into a cycle of longing and ruin.
Let’s start with being positive! The craftsmanship is undeniable. The vibe-shifting, morose score featuring Charli XCX, striking cinematography, and fantastically bombastic costumes and production design give the film a strong visual presence. Honestly, the aesthetics are gaudy and over-the-top enough to make any historical accuracy fanatic blush. Margot Robbie and Jacob Elordi, alongside the rest of the committed cast, try their absolute darndest to uncover emotional depth buried within a shallow script. This adaptation seems far more interested in Fennell’s pseudo-sadistic fantasy than in understanding why Brontë’s story has endured as a commentary on classism…