Emerald Fennell’s take on Emily Brontë’s Wuthering Heights isn’t a faithful adaptation, and that’s precisely the point. The film, awash in vibrant color and brimming with a distinctly modern sensibility, isn’t attempting to replicate the gothic novel’s austere atmosphere. Instead, it’s a bold, often unsettling, reimagining that prioritizes visceral impact over literary reverence. While the central romance between Cathy and Heathcliff feels strangely muted, the film finds its most compelling energy in the portrayal of Isabella Linton, a character whose desires and agency are amplified to deliciously subversive effect. This Wuthering Heights isn’t about star-crossed lovers; it’s about the intoxicating power of female desire, even – and perhaps especially – when it’s messy, and destructive.
Fennell’s adaptation, as noted by many, leans heavily into the campy and the overtly sexual. Tina Fey even pointed out on the Las Culturistas podcast that the film takes a sexually violent turn in its third act, a choice designed to shock and provoke. But beyond the stylistic flourishes – the blood-red rivers and oversized strawberries – lies a fascinating exploration of female frustration and rebellion. The film’s strength lies not in replicating the novel’s psychological depth, but in reframing its themes through a contemporary lens, and Isabella Linton is the key to unlocking that interpretation. This isn’t your grandmother’s Wuthering Heights; it’s a story about power dynamics, sexual awakening, and the consequences of unchecked passion.
Isabella Linton: A Character Reclaimed
In Brontë’s novel, Isabella Linton is often portrayed as a naive and ultimately tragic figure, a victim of Heathcliff’s cruelty and her own romantic delusions. Fennell’s Isabella, however, is anything but passive. She’s actively, aggressively, and unapologetically horny. She pursues Heathcliff with a single-minded determination that is both captivating and disturbing. This isn’t simply a matter of adding a few steamy scenes; it’s a fundamental reinterpretation of the character’s motivations. She isn’t merely falling for Heathcliff’s brooding intensity; she’s actively seeking pleasure and control in a world that denies her both.
The film’s visual language reinforces this reading. While Cathy, played by Margot Robbie, is often presented as a doll-like figure, infantilized by ribbons and elaborate costumes, Isabella is allowed to be raw and uninhibited. Her desires are palpable, and her pursuit of Heathcliff feels less like a romantic fantasy and more like a calculated attempt to disrupt the established order. This is a woman who understands the power of her own sexuality and isn’t afraid to wield it, even if it means courting disaster.
A Visual Feast, But Does It Deliver?
Fennell’s aesthetic choices are undeniably striking. The film is visually arresting, drawing comparisons to both Sofia Coppola’s Marie Antoinette and Yorgos Lanthimos’s Poor Things. Like Coppola, Fennell uses lavish sets and vibrant colors to create a sense of decadent excess. And like Lanthimos, she isn’t afraid to explore the darker, more perverse aspects of human desire. Emma Stone’s performance in Poor Things, with its unflinching portrayal of female sexuality, is a clear touchstone for Fennell’s approach. However, while Stone’s Bella Baxter feels fully realized and believable, Robbie’s Cathy often feels strangely detached, flouncing around the moors with a pouty indifference that fails to ignite the screen.
Jacob Elordi, as Heathcliff, also struggles to fully embody the character’s monstrous intensity. While his physical presence is imposing – he stands at 6’ 5” – he lacks the simmering rage and barely-contained violence that define Heathcliff in the novel. He spends much of the first act hidden behind a wig, and even after its removal, he doesn’t quite manage to convey the character’s inner turmoil. The film hints at Heathcliff’s darkness, but it never fully commits to it, leaving the audience feeling strangely unmoved by his suffering.
What’s Next for Fennell’s Vision?
Emerald Fennell’s Wuthering Heights is a divisive film, and it’s unlikely to satisfy purists. But it’s a fascinating experiment, a bold attempt to reimagine a classic novel for a contemporary audience. The film’s focus on Isabella Linton, and its exploration of female desire, is a welcome departure from traditional interpretations of the story. While the central romance may lack the emotional weight of the source material, the film’s provocative visuals and subversive themes are sure to spark conversation. Fennell continues to establish herself as a director willing to take risks and challenge conventions, and it will be intriguing to spot what she tackles next.
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