The latest film from writer-director Emerald Fennell, “Wuthering Heights,” hit theaters on Feb. 13, amid intense discourse about its bold reinterpretation of Emily Brontë’s novel. Adapted from the gothic classic and brought to life with Fennell’s taste for stylized provocation, it is another attempt to translate canonical literature into contemporary pop spectacle.
“Wuthering Heights” chronicles the volatile connection between two figures drawn together by an enduring obsession. Heathcliff (Jacob Elordi) and Catherine (Margot Robbie) move through windswept estates and candlelit interiors, their romance framed as youthful self-mythologizing.
The first act moves with confidence, filled with bold visuals and carefully designed scenes that feel like a stylish mood board come to life. Still, many of the film’s strongest images feel oddly restrained by Fennell’s straightforward direction.
The movie hints at something more daring but never fully commits to it. The romance and sensuality feel held back as well – almost like a cautious step away from the backlash about the overt sexuality surrounding Fennell’s previous film, “Saltburn.”
There is also a light, ironic humor running through the film, though it never hits as sharply as in her earlier work. At times, the adaptation recalls Baz Luhrmann’s flashy ambition, more interested in style than substance. The film keeps circling bold ideas without quite pushing far enough to make them truly provocative.
Elordi brings an exciting physicality to Heathcliff, grounding the character’s volatility even when the script struggles to deepen him beyond archetype. Robbie’s performance balances elegance and fragility, though their chemistry occasionally feels more conceptual than lived-in.
Alison Oliver’s Isabella emerges as a standout, lending a strikingly awkward yet intoxicating energy that felt in tune with Fennell’s vision. Meanwhile, Charli XCX’s soundtrack is woven surprisingly well into the film’s texture, rarely becoming the distraction many feared it might be.
Visually, the film finds undeniable strength. The lighting is sumptuous, imbuing late 18th-century interiors with a distinct and pointed identity. Compared with recent literary adaptations such as Guillermo del Toro’s “Frankenstein,” whose washed-out palette left little impression, Fennell’s work feels alive with intention, even when that intention stops short of revelation.
It’s impossible to ignore that “Wuthering Heights” doesn’t entirely deliver on its ambitions. The themes remain largely shallow, the provocation safer than advertised and the emotional stakes occasionally superficial. Yet for all its faults, this is a film with a clear vision, a notable improvement on Fennell’s “Saltburn” and an adaptation that understands the thrill of discovering the novel for the first time.
Cinema is better when competent auteurs make films for emerging cinephiles to wrestle with their understanding of taste. While this certainly won’t be a standout for everyone, the very existence of this film feels exciting, a reminder that adaptations can be conversations rather than reverent reproductions, and that exciting cinema for developing teenage audiences is an important component to the film ecosystem.
A pleasantly surprising, flawed but fascinating exercise in form. 6/10.
