Emerald Fennell’s Wuthering Heights (2026) is a visually stunning yet intense retelling of Emily Brontë’s classic novel. The film opens with an unsettling juxtaposition: what sounds like passion is revealed to be the anguished breaths of a public hanging. Right from the start, Fennell intertwines themes of desire with suffering, suggesting that love and cruelty are closely linked.
This adaptation is not about faithfully recreating Brontë’s story. Instead, Fennell delivers a bold reinterpretation focusing on obsession, class struggle, and self-destruction. It’s an emotionally charged experience that may thrill some viewers while exhausting others.
The film follows Cathy Earnshaw (played by Margot Robbie) and Heathcliff (Jacob Elordi). Their bond begins in childhood, rooted in shared trauma and isolation. Heathcliff, a victim of abuse, finds solace in Cathy. Their connection, however, feels toxic—a desperate need shaped by the harshness of their world. Cathy represents both comfort and turmoil, suggesting that love can often lead to pain.
As they mature, their once innocent bond warps into something darker. Cathy becomes aware of her class status and the societal limitations placed on her. Although she loves Heathcliff, marrying Edgar Linton (Shazad Latif) becomes a brutal but necessary choice for security. Fennell captures this complexity, portraying Cathy as fiery yet realistic, caught between passion and practicality.
Elordi’s Heathcliff is the film’s intense focal point. His character embodies obsession that flourishes from rejection and humiliation. When he returns wealthier but more dangerous, his transformation is less about healing and more about becoming a weapon in a cruel world.
The chemistry between Robbie and Elordi is palpable—full of desire laced with self-destruction. Their relationship is raw and uncompromising. Fennell doesn’t glamorize their connection; instead, she shows how deeply their love can harm both themselves and others.
Visually, the film is captivating. Linus Sandgren’s cinematography employs rich, vibrant colors that reflect the emotional highs and lows of the narrative. The Yorkshire moors serve as both a beautiful backdrop and a metaphor for isolation. Costumes, particularly Cathy’s, evolve to symbolize her internal struggles, becoming increasingly confining as her situation worsens.
However, the film’s excessiveness can be a drawback. Fennell often prioritizes intensity over nuance, which may leave audiences feeling overwhelmed. Characters communicate their feelings with little subtlety, hampering the film’s pacing.
The themes of class disparity, trauma, and repression are present but delivered with such forcefulness that they can feel one-dimensional. It’s as if Fennell is anxious that the audience might miss the underlying messages if not emphasized with vigor.
Despite these criticisms, Wuthering Heights has a captivating essence. It dives deeply into longing and despair without shying away from its characters’ toxic nature. Cathy and Heathcliff are destructive yet bound by an undeniable connection. Their relationship serves as a complex portrait of desire gone awry, underscoring that trauma can be mistaken for fate.
This film is divisive; some may revel in its boldness while others may recoil from its intensity. Personally, I found it exhilarating at times but also wearing in its relentlessness.
Emerald Fennell’s Wuthering Heights is unapologetically intense. It challenges viewers to either embrace its raw emotional landscape or turn away from its stark truths. Released in theaters globally, it stands as a unique interpretation, leaving a lasting impression.
For further exploration of emotional narratives in film, check out The Guardian’s coverage of recent cinematic trends.
