Emerald Fennell’s “Wuthering Heights,” an adaptation of the classic novel by Emily Brontë, hit theatres on Feb. 16. It received mixed reviews from critics and online communities; some criticized the movie for its significant departure from the original novel, its modern fashion, and its uncomfortable, borderline sadistic scenes. As someone who watched the movie and read the book, I found Fennell’s adaptation an incredible, modern twist on Brontë’s novel, which left me in tears as I exited the movie theater.
“Wuthering Heights” focuses on the toxic relationship between Catherine (Margot Robbie) and Heathcliff (Jacob Elordi), who was an orphan introduced to the household one night by Catherine’s alcoholic father. Heathcliff and Catherine grow up together, although in different societal statuses, and they develop feelings for each other. Years later, Catherine decides she cannot marry Heathcliff due to his status and wealth, and instead marries Edgar Linton (Sahazad Latif), a wealthy man living in an incredible estate, Thrushcross Grange, with his sister Isabella Linton (Alison Oliver). Catherine and Heathcliff then begin an affair years later, which inevitably ends, causing Heathcliff to fall into madness and Catherine to eventually die from a broken heart and sepsis caused by a miscarriage.
Although Fennell’s adaptation left out characters and flipped plot details, it also captured the themes and feelings the book produced in me. Robbie plays Catherine superbly; she captures her selfishness, anger, fear, grief and longing perfectly. Elordi captures Heathcliff’s emotional turmoil and vitality beautifully. As I watched the movie, by far the best part was the symbolism, fashion, and portrayal of Catherine and Heathcliff’s relationship. Catherine’s dresses are a mix of mid-19th-century fashion with a modern twist; not only this, but her dresses and several scenes from the movie reference historical paintings.
For example, Catherine can be seen wearing a white dress with a black bodice that hugs over her shoulders, which clearly recalls The Girl of Interlaken by Xaver Winterhalter. There is a scene where Isabella Linton swings Catherine on a wooden swing in their magnificent garden, which can clearly be connected to the 1767 painting The Swing by Jean-Honore Fragonard.
The symbolism in the movie is so intentional and perfectly thought through; from the dollhouse, to Catherine’s room being a perfect replication of her skin, to the overuse of red to signify her ultimate demise, Fennell mastered the use of symbolism in the film. A notable scene is when Heathcliff is whipped with a belt by Catherine’s father so hard that it leaves bloody marks on his back that scar. Years later, Catherine has Nelly tighten her corset so tightly that it leaves similar marks on her, symbolizing Catherine and Heathcliff’s destructive and obsessive relationship; they are not separate people, as Catherine states in the movie, “He is more myself than I am.” Their relationship is beyond love; it’s molded by an abusive household, neglect and abandonment, forcing a toxic codependency.
However, as I scrolled through the reviews, I noticed criticism was heavily received due to the movie’s disturbing scenes, absence of characters and particular looks. In the book, Heathcliff is described as having an “olive skin tone”; thus, his treatment by the rest of the characters and his status.
As critics have noted, this is not the case in the movie; Fennel chooses to focus on Heathcliff’s ‘ alienation through his servant status and financial difficulties rather than anchoring it on race. The discrimination is still present, and although it is depicted slightly differently, the film still preserves Heathcliff’s mistreatment as a central idea to the story- this is both in the movie and in the book, the ultimate reason Catherine refuses to marry him.
To me, it feels as if critics are choosing when to compare the novel and film. They embrace the novel’s deranged elements as “literary depth,” such as Heathcliff’s forced marriage of Catherine’s daughter to his son, who he conceived with Isabella Linton, essentially incestuating the two families in his grief. Yet, they condemn Fennell’s version for causing identical feelings through the use of uncomfortable scenes, not to mention that there is actually zero explicit nudity in the film.
Anyone who was expecting an “action-packed love story” or felt bored and disturbed throughout the film, has either never read the book, or just never understood it. If you’re looking to watch a perfect adaptation of the novel, is this the movie you want to watch? I admit, probably not. I would recommend the 1992 version and the many others that exist already.
But if you’re looking for an adaptation that is not only remarkably original, but also captures the raw vigour of madness, grief, need, abuse, selfishness, and yearning that is in itself the heart of the novel, this – this is what you sit down and watch.
