Wuthering Heights Movie Review: Passion, Pettiness, and a Whole Lot of Thirst

Emerald Fennell steps behind the camera for a new adaptation of Wuthering Heights, bringing Emily Brontë’s stormy classic back to the big screen. Set in the 1700s, the film stars Margot Robbie as Catherine Earnshaw and Jacob Elordi as Heathcliff—a brooding outsider taken in by Catherine’s father when they’re children.

He grows up loving her.

She loves him too… but pride, status, and emotional games get in the way.

Years later, Heathcliff disappears. Catherine marries someone else. Then Heathcliff returns—mysteriously wealthy, smoldering, and clearly ready to rewrite the past. The movie doesn’t spend much time explaining how he pulled off his Count of Monte Cristo glow-up, but don’t worry. He’s rich now. That’s what matters.

And yes, chaos follows.

Production Value: Finally, a Period Drama That Feels Real

Let’s start with what works.

This movie looks incredible.

The costumes are lavish without feeling like cosplay. The sets are massive, textured, and immersive. After sitting through recent gothic dramas that felt like actors wandering around inside green screens, this one actually tries to make you feel the wind on the moors.

You can almost smell the damp stone and burning fireplaces.

There’s a physicality to the environments that grounds the melodrama. And for a story this heightened, that helps.

Chemistry? Oh, There’s Chemistry.

Do Robbie and Elordi have chemistry?

Absolutely.

They’re compelling together. Volatile. Magnetic. The problem isn’t whether sparks fly—it’s that the entire film is basically a bonfire.

This movie is aggressively, unapologetically thirsty.

There are lingering stares. Breathless confrontations. Corset-grabbing. Face-grabbing. The kind of kisses that look like they might require a safety waiver. When Heathcliff hoists Catherine up to eye level in one scene, the audience reaction was… audible.

Let’s just say the theater did not feel climate-controlled.

The crowd was overwhelmingly female, and the tension in certain scenes was so thick you could cut it with a butter knife. It’s passion dialed to eleven—socially acceptable fantasy packaged as prestige period drama.

To be clear, that’s not inherently a flaw. The film knows its target. And it hits it dead center.

A Dark Beginning That Promises More Than It Delivers

The opening has bite.

There’s a bleakness in the early scenes that suggests something emotionally layered might be coming. For a moment, it feels like the film might lean into the psychological wreckage of these characters.

But that nuance never fully materializes.

Instead, what we get is a parade of deeply unpleasant people hurting each other in increasingly dramatic ways. Yes, pain and toxicity are part of the original novel’s DNA. But here, it’s presented without much shading.

Everyone is awful.

And after a while, it stops being tragic and starts being exhausting.

Adaptation vs. Interpretation: Where’s the Book?

Full disclosure: I haven’t read the novel.

But even a quick search reveals this adaptation takes significant liberties. One critic leaving the screening mentioned it was an “interesting choice” not to really adapt the book. Considering it’s reportedly one of his favorites, that feels telling.

From what I understand, Catherine is meant to be around 18 or 19. Age-appropriate casting matters here because so much of the story hinges on immaturity, impulsiveness, and emotional volatility.

In this version, those same behaviors read less like tragic youth and more like grown adults refusing to grow up.

Catherine is manipulative. She gaslights. She plays emotional push-and-pull games. The film gestures at generational trauma—her father was terrible, so she learned terrible behavior—but it doesn’t explore it with enough depth to make it feel like tragedy.

There’s a difference between context and excuse.

This film blurs that line.

Toxic Romance or Romanticized Toxicity?

The leads are, functionally, the villains of their own story.

And yet the film wants us to ache for them.

It wants us to root for their forbidden love. To see them as doomed soulmates trapped by circumstance. But without meaningful exploration of their emotional damage, it lands as surface-level melodrama.

At times, it feels like YA-level relationship chaos placed inside an R-rated period drama.

Had the film leaned harder into the cycle of generational trauma—showing how these patterns repeat and destroy—it might have landed as devastating.

Instead, it often feels like we’re just watching attractive people make bad decisions in very expensive clothing.

Final Thoughts: Beautiful, But Emotionally Hollow

There’s craftsmanship here. Strong performances. Impressive production design.

But I didn’t connect.

I didn’t feel devastated. I didn’t sympathize. I didn’t even feel particularly angry—just detached.

And that’s a problem for a story built on obsessive love and emotional ruin.

By the time the credits rolled, my reaction wasn’t heartbreak. It was more along the lines of: you made your bed.

For a film that aims straight at the heart, it left mine completely untouched.

Should You Watch It?

If you’re drawn to intense, sensual period romances and don’t mind morally messy characters, this will likely work for you.

If you’re hoping for layered psychological tragedy and faithful literary adaptation? You may walk away frustrated.

As for me, I have a feeling this one will evaporate from memory faster than the fog on the moors.