Emerald Fennell’s adaptation of Wuthering Heights landed in theaters this February, stirring up conversation among fans and critics alike for its bold, sometimes jarring, departures from Emily Brontë’s classic 1847 novel. The film, starring Margot Robbie as Catherine (Cathy) Earnshaw and Jacob Elordi as Heathcliff, offers a feverish, visually stunning take on the infamous doomed romance. But as many viewers quickly realized, this isn’t a by-the-numbers page-to-screen transfer; instead, Fennell’s version veers sharply from the original, both in plot and in spirit.
So, what exactly sets this adaptation apart? According to USA Today, the most striking change is the film’s narrative scope. While Brontë’s novel sprawls across generations, chronicling not just Cathy and Heathcliff’s destructive bond but also the lives of their children and the possibility of redemption, Fennell’s film draws the curtain at Cathy’s death. The entire second half of the book—where Cathy’s daughter and Heathcliff’s son become central figures—is left out. “It’s such a dense, complicated piece of work,” Fennell explained. “I had to kill a lot of my own darlings in order to make the story work in two hours.”
That decision to focus solely on Cathy and Heathcliff’s relationship, rather than the generational saga, fundamentally alters the story’s tone. The film becomes less a sweeping family epic and more a self-contained, tragic romance. As Yahoo notes, the finale actually plays out about halfway through the source material, leaving the novel’s intricate aftermath and the younger characters’ arcs on the cutting room floor. The result is a story that closes with the death of Cathy—no daughter is born, no next generation seeks healing, and Heathcliff’s fate is left unresolved.
In Fennell’s adaptation, Cathy’s story is one of passion, secrecy, and heartbreak. The film doesn’t shy away from depicting the lovers’ physical relationship, leaning into scenes of explicit intimacy that Brontë only ever hinted at. As Yahoo reports, the movie shows Cathy and Heathcliff’s affair in vivid detail: clandestine meetings in gardens, on the moors, and even inside a horse carriage. This is a stark contrast to the novel, where their connection is intense but rarely, if ever, sexualized on the page.
The updated portrayal of Cathy and Heathcliff’s love is not the only liberty taken. The film introduces a number of changes to characters and relationships. For instance, Cathy’s brother Hindley—so central to Heathcliff’s suffering in the book—is mentioned only in passing as a sibling who died young. Instead, Cathy’s father, Mr. Earnshaw, is recast as a cruel, tyrannical figure who abuses both Cathy and Heathcliff, blending elements of Hindley’s storyline into his own. According to Digital Spy, this condensation of characters and motives is just one example of how Fennell’s adaptation streamlines Brontë’s complex cast.
Heathcliff’s origins and ethnicity are also reimagined. In the novel, he’s described as a “dark-skinned gypsy,” fueling decades of speculation about his background and outsider status. The film, however, casts Jacob Elordi, a white actor, as Heathcliff—a decision that drew criticism and accusations of white-washing. Fennell addressed the controversy in an interview with The Hollywood Reporter, saying, “Everyone who loves this book has such a personal connection to it and so you can only ever kind of make the movie that you sort of imagined yourself when you read it.” She added that her focus was on the “sado-masochistic elements” of the story, suggesting that every adaptation is, in some sense, a personal interpretation.
Other supporting characters undergo significant transformation as well. Nelly, who serves as a housekeeper and narrator in the novel, is depicted in the film as more of a companion to Cathy, with less emphasis on her domestic duties. Joseph, the grumpy, elderly servant in Brontë’s text, is reimagined as a much younger man who provides comic relief and is even shown having a sexual relationship with another servant. The film also omits Mr. Lockwood, the narrator through whom the novel’s events are filtered. Instead, Fennell’s adaptation opens with a graphic scene of a public hanging—far removed from the book’s relatively sedate beginning at Thrushcross Grange.
The relationship dynamics between Edgar and Isabella Linton are also altered. In the novel, they are siblings; in the film, Isabella is Edgar’s ward, and both characters are introduced as adults rather than childhood acquaintances. After Cathy ends her affair with Heathcliff, he elopes with Isabella, but the motivations are different than in Brontë’s version. The film frames Heathcliff’s marriage to Isabella as an act of spite against Cathy, whereas the novel presents it as a calculated move to gain control of the Linton estate.
Cathy’s illness and death provide the film’s emotional climax. In Brontë’s novel, Cathy succumbs to a “brain fever” after a period of emotional turmoil, giving birth to her daughter before dying. The film, however, shows Cathy falling ill after hearing of Heathcliff’s elopement with Isabella. Nelly, feeling guilty for her role in the lovers’ estrangement, tries to reunite them, but Heathcliff arrives too late. Cathy dies after suffering a bloody miscarriage, and the film ends with Heathcliff crawling into bed beside her corpse as memories of their childhood play across the screen. As Yahoo observes, this ending underscores the story’s tragic passion, but omits the hope and reconciliation found in the novel’s second half.
Fennell has made it clear that she considers her film a standalone work, with no plans to revisit the story in a sequel. “I think of this as a one-off, and I’m not alone in that when you look at other adaptations,” she told USA Today. She pointed out that most film versions, including the 1939 classic, also focus primarily on Cathy and Heathcliff’s doomed love, with only a few attempting to capture the full sweep of Brontë’s multigenerational saga.
All told, Fennell’s Wuthering Heights is less a faithful retelling than a radical reinterpretation—one that strips the novel down to its most feverish, obsessive core. By focusing on Cathy and Heathcliff’s destructive love and leaving the next generation offscreen, the film offers a tragic, visually arresting portrait of passion unmoored from the possibility of redemption. Whether viewers find this approach exhilarating or frustrating, it’s hard to deny that Fennell’s vision has reignited debate around one of literature’s most enduring, and divisive, romances.
For those who cherish the intricate web of relationships and the eventual hope for healing in Brontë’s original, this adaptation may feel incomplete. But for others, Fennell’s film captures the wild, untamed spirit at the heart of Wuthering Heights—even if it leaves the moors shrouded in darkness rather than dawn.