Emerald Fennell’s much-anticipated reimagining of Emily Brontë’s classic novel, Wuthering Heights, swept into theaters on February 14, 2026, just in time for Valentine’s Day. But rather than offering a faithful adaptation, Fennell’s version delivers a bold, visually stunning, and highly divisive take that’s left both fans of the novel and newcomers debating its merits. Starring Margot Robbie as the tempestuous Catherine Earnshaw and Jacob Elordi as the brooding Heathcliff, the film has become a talking point for its radical departures from the original text and its unapologetic embrace of modern sensibilities.
From the outset, Fennell makes it clear that her Wuthering Heights is not your grandmother’s Brontë. According to Entertainment Weekly, she crafted the story based not on a meticulous rereading of the novel, but on her own teenage memories of it—memories that, by her own admission, were “both real and not real.” Fennell explained, “I wanted to make something that was my response and interpretation to that book and to the feeling of it,” rather than a line-by-line recreation. This approach led her to consolidate characters, pare down the sprawling plot, and focus almost exclusively on the doomed romance between Catherine and Heathcliff.
The result is a film that feels both familiar and startlingly new. The story begins on the windswept Yorkshire Moors, where young Catherine lives under the thumb of her alcoholic and cartoonishly abusive father, played by Martin Clunes. Into this bleak household, her father brings home Heathcliff, an orphaned boy he rescues from the street. Catherine, ever strong-willed, names him Heathcliff and treats him as a kind of pet. Over time, their relationship deepens, though it remains ambiguous—part sibling, part something more.
Years pass, and Catherine and Heathcliff, now portrayed by Robbie and Elordi, are still cavorting around the family’s neglected estate. But the arrival of the wealthy Linton family next door changes everything. With her father having gambled away the family fortune, Catherine seizes the chance to secure her future by marrying Edgar Linton (Shazad Latif). This decision shatters Heathcliff, who vanishes—only to return years later, mysteriously rich and more dashing than ever. The pair’s reunion sparks a torrid, clandestine affair that forms the emotional (and sensual) core of the film.
Fennell’s adaptation is not shy about its eroticism. As Keith & The Movies notes, the film is “more in love with itself than with anything Emily Brontë put to page,” with pseudo-eroticism and soapy melodrama taking precedence over the gothic darkness and raw dysfunction of the source material. The supernatural elements that haunt Brontë’s novel are nowhere to be found, and the narrative is stripped of the second half of the book, which in the original charts the fates of the next generation. Instead, Fennell zeroes in on Catherine and Heathcliff’s passionate, destructive bond, leaving other relationships and subplots underdeveloped or excised altogether.
This focus, while yielding some breathtaking scenes—both in terms of scenery and steamy encounters—has drawn criticism for its narrative choppiness and lack of character depth. The film “erratically bops from point to point, force-feeding us a wild array of emotions that always feel more contrived than organic,” laments Keith & The Movies. The passage of time is often unclear, and characters undergo abrupt shifts with little buildup. Edgar Linton, for example, conveniently disappears from the story so that Catherine and Heathcliff can carry on their affair unimpeded. Even the central romance, despite the chemistry between Robbie and Elordi, sometimes feels more performative than profound.
Yet for all its flaws, Fennell’s Wuthering Heights is a feast for the senses. The film is “completely and utterly breathtaking with its showcase of sweeping outdoor landscapes as well as big lavish set design you can get lost in,” raves one reviewer. The period costumes dazzle, and the soundtrack by Charli XCX—though initially jarring—ultimately grows on the audience, adding a modern twist to the period setting. Fennell’s technical prowess, previously displayed in Promising Young Woman and Saltburn, is on full display here, even if the substance doesn’t always match the style.
One of the most significant departures from Brontë’s novel is the ending. In the original, Catherine dies after giving birth to her daughter, Cathy, who goes on to play a central role in the second half of the story. Fennell, however, opts for a more abrupt and tragic close: Catherine suffers from sepsis and has a miscarriage, dying without ever giving birth. Heathcliff arrives too late, cradling her body as a montage of their memories flickers across the screen. There is no ghostly reunion, no next generation to carry on the saga. “It begins where it ends and ends where it begins,” Fennell told Entertainment Weekly, emphasizing the cyclical, eternal nature of Catherine and Heathcliff’s love. “That’s the thing about love, and it’s the thing about the book, right? It’s that it’s forever and it’s cyclical, and so there’s no stop—even when there’s a terrible, sad, tragic stop, it’s not really a stop.”
This creative choice, while poetic in its own way, effectively closes the door on any sequel. “I think of this as a one-off, and I’m not alone in that when you look at other adaptations,” Fennell explained, referencing the long tradition of Wuthering Heights films that focus solely on the first half of the book. “There’s a world where this is a miniseries and you really get into deep, deep detail of every single thing that happens. But for me, the thing I connected to as a reader was always (Catherine and Heathcliff). I also don’t know if I’d be very good at sequels!”
The response from critics and audiences has been as tempestuous as the moors themselves. Some praise the film’s emotional intensity and the electric chemistry between its leads. Others dismiss it as an overindulgent, hollow exercise in style over substance. Even those unfamiliar with Brontë’s novel have found the film’s length and repetition a bit much, with one reviewer noting that by the time the leads have “gone back and forth a few times, sneaking around sticking fingers in each others’ mouths and repeatedly saying ‘this is wrong’ alongside ‘I love you’s,’ it does get, dare I say, a little stale to watch.”
Ultimately, Fennell’s Wuthering Heights stands as a visually sumptuous, emotionally charged, and deeply polarizing interpretation of a literary classic. It may not please purists or those seeking a faithful adaptation, but it offers plenty to chew on for viewers drawn to bold, provocative filmmaking—and, of course, for anyone who can’t resist a good old-fashioned bit of tragedy on Valentine’s Day.