Emerald Fennell’s Wuthering Heights, fronted by Margot Robbie and Jacob Elordi, is landing in theaters like a full‑on moorland storm: loud, moody, and leaving critics sharply divided. As early reviews roll in ahead of its Feb. 13 release, the conversation isn’t just about whether the film is “good” or “bad” but about what it means to reinvent Emily Brontë’s Gothic classic for a post‑Saltburn, post‑“prestige IP” era.

Reactions so far paint a picture of a daring, sometimes exasperating adaptation—one that is more interested in emotional excess and vibe than in strict literary fidelity. Think of it as a high‑style remix of a 19th‑century emo epic, designed as much for heated group chats as for traditional period‑drama fans.

Margot Robbie and Jacob Elordi in Emerald Fennell’s Wuthering Heights
Official still from Emerald Fennell’s Wuthering Heights, starring Margot Robbie and Jacob Elordi. Image: © The Hollywood Reporter / studio promo.

A New Wuthering Heights in the Age of Prestige Adaptations

Emily Brontë’s 1847 novel has been adapted repeatedly—from the 1939 Laurence Olivier classic to Andrea Arnold’s raw, windswept 2011 version—but Fennell’s take arrives in a very different media landscape. After Promising Young Woman and the divisive Saltburn, her name signals a particular brand of heightened, provocative storytelling that critics now approach with sharpened expectations.

Casting Margot Robbie and Jacob Elordi folds the film neatly into current pop‑culture currents. Robbie is coming off her cultural juggernaut run with Barbie, while Elordi has become the go‑to figure for beautiful, dangerous men after Euphoria and Sofia Coppola’s Priscilla. Their pairing makes this Wuthering Heights feel less like homework canon and more like must‑see discourse bait.


Mixed Reviews: What Critics Are Actually Saying

Early reactions collected by outlets like The Hollywood Reporter, Rotten Tomatoes, and major broadsheets sketch out a sharply polarized response. The film is neither a universal triumph nor a total misfire; instead, it’s landing as a love‑it‑or‑hate‑it experience.

  • Praise: Visual style, audacity, performances, and a willingness to lean into the novel’s cruelty and obsession.
  • Criticism: Tonal whiplash, heavy‑handed symbolism, and a script that sometimes flattens the book’s prickly complexity.
“Fennell’s Wuthering Heights is a feral mood piece, less an adaptation than a fever dream of Brontë’s novel,” one critic writes, admiring the film’s “willingness to go too far rather than not far enough.”

Others are less charmed, describing the film as an “aestheticized tantrum” that mistakes volume for depth. Where some viewers see bold reinvention, detractors see over‑directing and a lack of trust in the source’s own power.


Emerald Fennell’s Direction: Gothic Maximalism on the Moors

Stormy moor landscape evoking Wuthering Heights atmosphere
Storm‑lashed landscapes and Gothic atmosphere are central to Fennell’s visual approach. Image: Pexels (royalty‑free).

Fennell doubles down on the heightened sensibility that made Saltburn a lightning rod. The camera is restless, the production design stylized rather than strictly period‑accurate, and the soundscape leans into anachronistic flourishes and needle drops that are already inspiring lively debate.

Some critics find this approach invigorating, arguing that Brontë’s book has always been closer to Gothic horror than to genteel costume drama. For them, Fennell’s maximalism is a correction to decades of soft‑focus, romanticized adaptations.

“This isn’t your grandmother’s Wuthering Heights,” notes one reviewer. “Fennell shoots the moors like a psychological battlefield, not a postcard.”

Others argue the director’s signature provocations eventually overshadow the emotional core. When every scene is turned up to eleven, the argument goes, nothing feels truly shocking anymore—least of all Heathcliff and Catherine’s self‑destructive bond.


Margot Robbie and Jacob Elordi: A Volatile Central Pairing

Silhouetted couple arguing in a dramatic landscape
The film leans into the toxic push‑pull between its two leads, rather than sanitizing their relationship. Image: Pexels (royalty‑free).

Across the board, critics seem most engaged when talking about the leads. Margot Robbie’s Catherine is described as “volcanic,” “spiteful,” and “tragically self‑aware,” a performance that leans into the character’s uglier impulses rather than chasing likability. Jacob Elordi’s Heathcliff, meanwhile, builds on his growing image as cinema’s go‑to for wounded, magnetic men whose beauty barely conceals their damage.

  • Robbie: Praised for embracing Catherine’s cruelty and class anxiety without softening her edges.
  • Elordi: Noted for a brooding, physically imposing take on Heathcliff that foregrounds his outsider status.
  • Chemistry: Some reviewers call their dynamic “electrifying,” while others think the performances feel like they belong to different movies.
“Robbie and Elordi weaponize their star personas,” one critic observes, “turning the promise of glamorous romance into something jagged and deeply uncomfortable.”

How Faithful Is This Wuthering Heights to Emily Brontë?

Any new Wuthering Heights has to answer to a fiercely protective literary fandom. On that front, Fennell’s film is unapologetically selective. Critics point out that the screenplay compresses timelines, sidelines some of the second‑generation storylines, and reframes key events to better fit a two‑hour, star‑driven movie structure.

Where the film seems truest to Brontë is in its embrace of emotional extremity: jealousy, class resentment, and the destructive fantasy of a love that wants ownership rather than partnership. What it sacrifices, according to some reviewers, is the intricate web of social context and narrative framing that makes the novel such a strange and layered experience.


Visual Storytelling: Costume, Color, and the Haunted House

The production design treats Wuthering Heights itself as a character—decaying, grand, and emotionally charged. Image: Pexels (royalty‑free).

Critics largely agree that the film is visually striking. The house of Wuthering Heights is rendered as a decaying, almost surreal space, cluttered with symbolic objects and lit in aggressively expressive ways. Costumes blend period silhouettes with bold color choices, sometimes drifting toward the theatrical in a way that will either delight or alienate viewers.

Some reviewers compare the look to recent “auteur Gothic” projects like Crimson Peak or Poor Things, where production design becomes a psychological map. Detractors argue that in trying to be visually metaphorical at every turn, the film occasionally undercuts the rawness of the characters’ suffering by turning it into curated spectacle.


Soundtrack, Needle Drops, and Tonal Whiplash

Close-up of vinyl record and headphones suggesting a stylized soundtrack
An eclectic soundtrack and bold needle drops play a big role in shaping the film’s modern sensibility. Image: Pexels (royalty‑free).

One of the most contentious elements in reviews is the film’s sonic palette. Without spoiling specific tracks, critics note a mix of period‑evoking score and conspicuously modern song choices. For some, this creates a bracing, anachronistic jolt in the vein of Sofia Coppola’s Marie Antoinette; for others, it breaks the spell of the world entirely.

“Every time a needle drop hits,” a skeptical critic notes, “you can feel the film elbowing you in the ribs, asking if you ‘get it’ yet.”

Tonally, reviewers describe a constant oscillation between black comedy, high tragedy, and near‑camp, a balance Fennell has played with before. Your tolerance for that kind of tonal tightrope may ultimately determine whether the film feels exhilarating or exhausting.


Why This Release Matters in Today’s Film Landscape

Audience watching a film in a cinema, silhouetted by screen light
A star‑driven literary adaptation testing whether risky, adult‑skewing dramas can still command theatrical attention. Image: Pexels (royalty‑free).

Beyond individual reviews, Wuthering Heights is a notable test case for the industry. It’s a mid‑to‑large budget literary adaptation anchored by movie stars and directed by a filmmaker with a distinct, sometimes polarizing stamp. In an era where studios increasingly chase safe franchises, Fennell’s take is a reminder that “prestige IP” can still be weird, messy, and intensely personal.

The mixed critical response may actually help the film’s cultural footprint. Polarization fuels conversation, and this is the kind of movie that invites think‑pieces about toxic love, class, and the ethics of romanticizing deeply damaged characters—much as the original novel has done for more than a century.


Final Take: A Divisive but Conversation‑Worthy Adaptation

Synthesizing the early critical chatter, Emerald Fennell’s Wuthering Heights emerges as an aggressively authored, tonally risky adaptation that refuses to play it safe. Its performances, visual bravado, and thematic ambition are widely acknowledged, even by detractors, but so are its excesses and occasional lack of restraint.

If you want a reverent, museum‑grade version of Brontë’s novel, this is probably not it. If you’re curious about how far a filmmaker can stretch a canonical text without snapping it entirely, this might be one of the more intriguing—and divisive—romantic dramas to hit theaters this year.

Expect strong feelings, heated debates, and plenty of think‑pieces. In other words: exactly the kind of afterlife Emily Brontë’s wild, unsettling love story was built for.