With the much-anticipated release of Emerald Fennell’s "Wuthering Heights" just days away, critics and fans alike are buzzing about the latest and perhaps most radical adaptation of Emily Brontë’s 1847 classic. Starring Margot Robbie as the tempestuous Catherine Earnshaw and Jacob Elordi as the brooding Heathcliff, this new film has already sparked controversy, divided reviewers, and set the stage for heated debates about the boundaries of adaptation and artistic license.
Emerald Fennell, known for her provocative films Promising Young Woman and Saltburn, has never shied away from bold choices. In pre-release interviews, she was candid about her intentions: "I can't say I'm making Wuthering Heights. It's not possible," Fennell told Fandango, explaining her approach to adapting a book she described as "dense and complicated and difficult." She went on, "What I can say is I'm making a version of it. There's a version that I remembered reading that isn't quite real. And there's a version where I wanted stuff to happen that never happened. And so it is 'Wuthering Heights,' and it isn't. But really, I'd say that any adaptation of a novel, especially a novel like this, should have quotation marks around it."
Indeed, this is not the Wuthering Heights that Emily Brontë wrote, and Fennell never intended it to be. The film, which opens in limited theatrical release on February 13, 2026, is a stylized, anachronistic reimagining that leans heavily into modern aesthetics and pop culture references. From the outset, the movie signals its departure from tradition: the soundtrack features original songs by Charli XCX, and the visuals are a riot of color and excess, with costumes by Jacqueline Durran and production design by Suzie Davies that critics have described as "sumptuous," "extravagant," and "feverish."
The casting itself became a flashpoint for debate. Some fans balked at Margot Robbie, the "Barbie" star, as being too old for Catherine, while others argued that Jacob Elordi was too white for the role of Heathcliff, a character whose ambiguous racial background has long been discussed by Brontë scholars. Fennell, for her part, leaned into the controversy, with the film’s promotional campaign embracing romance-novel tropes and the tagline "Come undone." The posters, featuring Robbie and Elordi in a passionate embrace, set the tone for a movie that is as much about spectacle as it is about story.
The film’s narrative skeleton remains faithful to the source: Catherine and Heathcliff meet as children on the windswept moors of West Yorkshire, their bond forged in isolation and wildness. As they grow, Catherine’s desire for luxury leads her to accept the proposal of the aristocratic Edgar Linton, breaking both her heart and Heathcliff’s. Heathcliff, wounded and embittered, leaves, only to return years later, transformed by wealth and bent on revenge. Yet, as Mashable’s Kristy Puchko observes, Fennell’s adaptation "feels more like The Princess Bride than Wuthering Heights." Heathcliff’s cruelty is softened, his violence channeled into brooding and consensual kink rather than the vengeful wrath of Brontë’s anti-hero. Catherine, meanwhile, is rendered as a beautiful brat, her journey from wild child to society doll made literal by the film’s lush costuming and set design.
Fennell’s vision is unashamedly modern and self-aware. The film’s aesthetic is described by critics as "boldly theatrical, almost feverish at times, with garish colour palettes and grandiose set pieces that feel closer to a dark pop opera than a traditional literary drama," according to HeyUGuys. Linus Sandgren’s cinematography draws raves for its lushness and vibrancy, while the use of color—particularly red—serves as a visual motif for Catherine’s emotional journey. "Entire essays could be written about the way the color red seeps into and then out of Cathy’s clothes," notes Matt Singer of ScreenCrush.
The soundtrack, dominated by Charli XCX’s original songs, is as divisive as the visuals. Some critics, like Liz Shannon Miller of Consequence, praise the music for fitting "beautifully with the quasi-tragic/quasi-toxic tone," while others find the modern needle drops jarring. Peter Bradshaw of Guardian likens the film’s style to a "136-minute video for the Charli XCX songs on the soundtrack," and Peter Debruge of Variety describes the aesthetic as "akin to a cross between a pop-up book, a dollhouse, a snow globe, Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers’ Alice in Wonderland-themed music video for 'Don’t Come Around Here No More,' and a 5th Avenue department store Christmas display."
Perhaps the most contentious aspect of Fennell’s adaptation is its treatment of the novel’s darker themes. Sex and violence are intertwined throughout, but often in ways that critics found more "trashy than transgressive." The film opens with the ambiguous sounds of fabric rustling and a man groaning, which are revealed to be from a public execution rather than a sexual encounter. Later, the film features scenes of BDSM and kink, but as Puchko notes, these moments feel "half-hearted next to more successfully sexy and psychologically provocative films like Babygirl and Pillion."
Critical reception is sharply divided. Some, like Brian Truitt of USA Today, hail the film as "the first must-see movie of 2026, an enthralling retelling of an all-time love story through an accessibly modern lens." Others, like Nick Schager of The Daily Beast, dismiss it as "depressingly uninspired—a devolution into simplistic drama…an immature reimagining devoid of its source’s nuance and complexity." While many reviewers praise the commitment to a sensory experience and the audacious style, others lament the loss of Brontë’s psychological depth and narrative cohesion.
The chemistry between the leads is similarly polarizing. David Rooney of The Hollywood Reporter calls Robbie and Elordi’s pairing "volatile, unsettling, and undeniably electric," while Schager argues they "manage merely flickers of chemistry." Robbie’s performance as Catherine is described as "magnificent" by Caryn James of BBC.com, but Therese Lacson of Collider finds it "completely unremarkable." Elordi, meanwhile, is widely acknowledged as the standout, with Courtney Howard of Fresh Fiction calling him "compelling, charismatic, romantic, and dastardly, playing the clash of chivalry and cruelty with command."
Supporting performances also draw attention, particularly Alison Oliver as Isabella Linton, who Kristen Lopez of The Film Maven calls "the film’s MVP…a true revelation, all at once effervescent, charming, and provocative." The film’s supporting cast, including Hong Chau and Martin Clunes, bring gravitas and depth to a production that often teeters on the edge between silly and clever.
Ultimately, Fennell’s "Wuthering Heights" is a film that demands to be seen—and debated. It is, as David Rooney puts it, "Wuthering Heights for the Bridgerton generation, guaranteed to moisten tear ducts and inflame young hearts." Whether it succeeds as an adaptation is beside the point; what matters is that it has reignited conversation around Brontë’s enduring story, challenging audiences to reconsider what it means to adapt a classic for a new era. For some, it’s a passionate, artful reinvention. For others, it’s a passionate, incoherent collage. But in a cinematic landscape starved for boldness, Fennell’s fever dream of a film is nothing if not memorable.