“Wuthering Heights” : Quotation Marks Needed

The Fragility of Book-to-Film Adaptations in Modern Cinema

In this era of book-to-film adaptations, “Wuthering Heights” directed and adapted by Emerald Fennell may be the most disappointing as of late.  

Key features of this film include infidelity, BDSM, and Jacob Elordi’s fingers, not the characteristics I believe Emily Brontë intended to be taken from her novel. 

There is no denying that this film has been in high anticipation, receiving significant attention online since its announcement, particularly when set leaks of lead actress Margot Robbie dressed in a white wedding gown surfaced early last year. With Robbie set to star as Catherine Earnshaw and Jacob Elordi as Heathcliff, this film seemed to be a guaranteed success, yet not even its A-List cast could save it from becoming the basis of jokes and ridicule online. This seems to be on account of the film’s forgoing of key plot points from the original novel. While audiences online are certainly enjoying poking fun at the film, particularly in the virality of Charlixcx’s song House

 Cole on TikTok, which features in the film, it is impossible to escape from the trend of “Wuthering Heights”. This raises an interesting question, is the film gaining traction for the reasons Fennell intended?  

Realising the film was approaching its theatrical release in February 2026, I made it my mission to finally clear the novel from my to-read list. As I immersed myself in the depths of the moors and gothic scenery, more information about the film’s content reached me through social media. One such thing was the removal of Catherine’s older brother, Hindley Earnshaw. I learned this at around fifty pages into the novel, at which point Hindley's abuse, torment, and racist conduct toward Heathcliff felt woefully unceasing. 

To make this matter worse, Fennell made a decision that broke the hearts and minds of Brontë fans around the world, a decision that became a major topic of discussion among critics and between myself and many of my friends:  

The casting of a white actor to play Heathcliff.  

While Jacob Elordi undoubtedly transformed into the broody and troubled Heathcliff fans know and love, this key element of the character, in how and why he came to be perceived as 'different’ and isolated from the family, was removed entirely from the story.  

It would be unjust to describe the abuse and racial discrimination Heathcliff faces as a Romani man a simple storyline, as it forms the crux of the novel’s message. However, that is precisely what the Fennell’s film reduces it to. The character of Hindley was replaced by Mr. Earnshaw, the kind, gentle, and selfless man ot he original book. Rather than maintaining the villain as the racist and cruel Hindley, who torments the younger son out of anger toward his late father, the film portrays Mr. Earnshaw abusing both his daughter Cathy and adopted son Heathcliff. 

The intentional dismissal of the torture Heathcliff endures is reframed as a trope of romantic sacrifice, where he chivalrously endures beatings and lashings from Earnshaw to protect Catherine. After a particularly brutal display, occurring after Heathcliff takes the blame for Catherine, he states:  

“I will take this and more if it spares you.” 

This scene is later immortalized in Catherine’s realisation that she has made a mistake in marrying someone else. If this film stood alone, outside of the context of the novel, it might shine as a tragic gothic romance. However, it is impossible to ignore the intentional oversights on Fennell’s behalf that strip away the original themes of racism, discrimination, and cycles of abuse that define Bronte’s work. 

The premise of Heathcliff’s development and its role in the cycle of abuse is replaced by a sado-masochistic power fantasy. In the novel, Heathcliff continues the abuse he has faced through his brutal treatment of his wife, Isabella Linton. In the film, Isabella is not a victim of domestic violence but a willing participant, barking like a dog in heat at Heathcliff while chained up beside the fireplace in his dilapidated house. This unsettling dynamic is confirmed when Heathcliff lifts the chain from her neck to reveal it is not attached to anything, and that Isabella is free to leave at any point.  

The suggestive visuals certainly do not end there, sharply contrasting with the novel, where Catherine and Heathcliff’s bond is rooted in emotional connection. In the film, the pair engage in incredibly intimate acts in graphic detail, overwhelming the senses of viewers, yet without explicit nudity. This was a conscious decision made by the intimacy coordinator of the film, in which they stated in an interview with LADBible that there “just didn't seem to be a place for it.” 

Sensual imagery surrounding Elordi’s hands is another unmissable detail in the film, particularly in a close-up shot of eggshells broken in Heathcliff’s hand while creamy egg whites slip down his fingers. This moment in particular left me with no further questions on what this film would devolve into, as it seemed a portrayal of Heathcliff’s sex appeal and a forced build of sexual tension between the two protagonists was a cardinal goal of Fennell's.  

As the film concluded, my reaction was one of disappointment. Once Catherine dies, the film ends abruptly, her death was framed as a shock for the viewers. This hasty ending suggests that Fennell’s primary interest lay only in Catherine and Heathcliff’s intimacy, with no regard for the moral consequences that follow. 

One of my favourite aspects of the novel is Catherine’s ghost haunting the narrative, a feature made possible by the story-within-a-story structure, in which the events are told in retrospect and the reader is already aware of Heathcliff’s state after her death. These features collectively are essential to the gothic power and the true profundity of the tragedy throughout.  

In realising that the film would not progress any further beyond this point finalised my opinion, that the set of quotation marks in the title should have been substantially larger, or the words in between them should have been anything other than the title of Emily Brontë’s most poignant work. I am a firm believer in artistic interpretation and the subjective nature of an artwork such as film. However, when a director reduces a story about the universal calamity of abuse, its cycles, and the damages of racism into one of objectification, the line between artistic interpretation is crossed, resulting in a production of great disappointment.