What’s it about?

Broody boy, bratty girl. Intense love. You know the gist (in case you don’t it’s based on the Emily Brontë novel about a destructive love between Heathcliff and Catherine on the Yorkshire moors, fueled by vengeance and social class).

What did we think?

Anthony Sherratt says: Coming into this film I wondered why they’d titled it with air quotes. Turns out it’s because it’s a reimagining rather than a faithful adaptation. It’s basically Brontë fan fiction written by a purveyor of 50 Shades Of Grey.

I mean it has been quite awhile since I read Wuthering Heights in high school but I’m pretty confident Heathcliffe didn’t discover Cathy masturbating on the moors. And if the novel had featured this much sex, my all-boys school would have devoured the book rather than moaned about it.

But this version, directed by Emerald Fennell (who gave us Promising Young Woman and Saltburn) adds a modern flavour with extra “spice”. Gone is the sole emphasis on gloom and doom as it intersperses the broodiness with an occasional tone of whimsy that borders on anachronistic behaviour. What do I mean? Well, imagine Cathy as alternating between the classic version and Regina George. And Isabella as a hormonal, sexually frustrated Moaning Myrtle. No I am not writing this for comedic effect.

Weirdly, it almost works and you do find yourself getting sucked into the tragic relationship. And perhaps if they’d committed to one tone or the other this would have been elevated into modern classic territory. Still, your heart breaks, you hope against hope before eventually you’re left alone in a lit cinema wondering “what the hell did I just watch?”. The answer is a “love” story. Sort of.

Despite all this, I can’t hate it. It was a bold swing and the heavy handed imagery (literally in one case – I’m looking at you weird fireplace) combined with strong acting (albeit with some interesting interpretations) means it will inspire conversation and live long in your memory if nothing else.