I took my girlfriend to see the new Wuthering Heights primarily because I knew she’d react in funny ways to the latest adaptation of the book (which I’ve never read), and she did not disappoint. With Emerald Fennell (Promising Young Woman, Saltburn) directing, this latest iteration promised to be edgier and kinkier–the exact kind of adjectives that tend to get my girlfriend riled up in amusing ways–and it sure is.
Wuthering Heights will also, undoubtedly, end up being one of the most visually arresting and creative movies of 2026.
While I have no idea how faithful it is to the source material, this latest iteration has two wretched souls–Cathy (Margot Robbie) and Heathcliff (Jacob Elordi)–who grew up together in an awkward sibling/servant dynamic finally admitting to the other that they love each other, even though life has other plans. They’re both pretty awful people but we’re supposed to want these two passionate lovers to somehow make it work anyway.
The first hour of Wuthering Heights is explosively vibrant, stuffed with incredible set designs, explosive characters, imaginative costumes, and characters to match. Fennell knows how to direct the hell out of a movie, and every second betrays what could easily be a stodgy period piece (I’m pretty sure I saw the last adaptation, but remember absolutely nothing about it).
Robbie and Elordi both circle each other with electric chemistry and equal willingness to spar. One could chalk this time up to watching two Extremely Good Looking People who want to f**k but don’t for a variety of reasons, their willingness to edge each other an intoxicating formula. But Fennell’s touch is never far, her craft on full display.
It’s when Cathy and Heathcliff finally begin to indulge each other that Wuthering Heights begins to sag. It’s always entertaining, to a degree, but after the sex montage goes by the story begins to play Fennell, rather than the other way around. What was a highly creative and overpowering modern retelling turns into, for a time, a rather traditional period piece romantic drama, admittedly with a little more spice thrown in. Visually, the movie loses a step, unless you count the two leads wandering around or making out in the rain (it rains an excessive amount!). Sure, there’s sex, but it’s mostly PG-rated and not nearly as steamy as you’d expect (my girlfriend would point out that a sex scene involving a horse bit is “what the hell” steamy, or, as she put it, “cringey”).
Things pick up as Cathy and Heathcliff turn into Extremely Good Looking But Horrible People, with Heathcliff turning into an absolute heathen. With an undercurrent of dark humor, Fennell embraces Heathcliff’s obsessively awful devotion to Cathy, but even still the story starts to feel a tad forced. As I walked out of the theater, I saw a woman wiping tears from her eyes–if this was supposed to be an epic love story and not a portrayal of f**ked-up love-gone-wrong, I missed the memo.
Emerald Fennell’s Wuthering Heights is a visually gorgeous and powerfully made retelling of the timeless story–the problem is that this story may not be so timeless after all. The movie would have benefited had Fennell leaned even harder into the darker, more disturbed elements of the story rather than stay beholden to some sense of real romance. Still, there’s a lot to feast on, and my girlfriend’s in-the-moment reactions made it well worth it.
Review by Erik Samdahl. Erik is a marketing and technology executive by day, avid movie lover by night. He is a member of the Seattle Film Critics Society.
