You're unlikely to see a movie this year more visually sumptuous than Wuthering Heights. The costumes are exquisite. The production design is gorgeous. The cinematography is breathtaking. But you're also unlikely to see a movie this year with less faith in its audience's intelligence than Wuthering Heights.
Emerald Fennell's adaptation of Emily Brontë's classic makes a lot of changes to the story, but the contours are still the same: Cathy (Margot Robbie) and Heathcliff (Jacob Elordi) are joined together at an early age, but separated by society's insistence that a lady of her stature must marry into wealth. And it's still bound by the same traditions of almost every other version, namely ignoring the book's second half and casting a white actor as Heathcliff.
Those choices hamstring it a bit, but it's got bigger problems. The biggest of which is that it doesn't believe the audience will understand the story's symbolism and themes, so it makes sure to underline them at every turn. (A similar problem befell Elordi's last film, Guillermo del Toro's Frankenstein.) It also buys into the marketing that this is a love story for the ages, and not a tragic story of two cruel, selfish people who wreck multiple generations getting revenge on one another.
Somewhat surprisingly, it's also not that racy. Fennell's previous film had Barry Keoghan drinking the bodily fluids of multiple Catton family members. Wuthering Heights, by contrast, has almost no nudity, but a lot of heavy breathing and uncomfortable-looking positions. It's no more salacious than an average episode of Bridgerton.
But when Fennell hands over the reins to editor Victoria Boydell, the film ascends to a higher plane. There are multiple montages – including one that cuts between multiple Christmas celebrations – that deliver some absolutely stunning filmmaking. The movie is at its best when no one is talking, allowing us to take in all the film's ravishing beauty. Cathy walking through the moors in a wedding dress with an impossibly long train. Heathcliff riding a horse off into the sunset, looking like he's on the cover of a Harlequin romance. It's simple but effective stuff.
Wuthering Heights may not actually be romantic. It may not even be that sexy. But it is never boring and always stunning to look at. That's enough this Valentine's Day.
