David Farnor | On 03, May 2026

Director: Emerald Fennell
Cast: Margot Robbie, Jacob Elordi, Shazad Latin, Martin Clunes, Alison Oliver
Certificate: 15

When is a book adaptation not a book adaptation? When it’s made by Emerald Fennell. The Saltburn writer/director has made no secret of the intent behind the giant quotation marks around her film’s title – and there’s something boldly liberating about acknowledging head-on the notion that we each only ever know the version of a book that’s in our own heads. And so it goes without saying that this take on Emily Brontë’s timeless novel is only loosely faithful to the text – and not just because (like many other films before it) it only adapts part of it for the screen.

The essentials are all present and correct: Cathy (Margot Robbie) is raised at Wuthering Heights by her father (Martin Clunes), along with an adopted young man, Heathcliff (Jacob Elordi), with whom she shares a connection that sits somewhere between attraction and revulsion – and winds up nothing short of obsession. As Cathy grows older and finds herself caught up in the trappings of a new neighbour’s wealthy lifestyle, she forges an unhappy marriage – while Heathcliff, scorned and rejected, disappears before returning several years later.

What ensues is a familiar tale of toxic desire, trauma, revenge and power – it’s a fascinatingly twisted portrait of unhealthy power dynamics, as everyone on screen attempts to control, diminish and punish each other in any way possible. Fennell is brilliant at drawing out the intensity of those warped relationships, unafraid to take them to dark, disturbing extremes – not sparing Isabella Linton (a brilliant Alison Oliver), the ward of Cathy’s doting husband, Edgar (Shazad Latif).

Fennell ties depravity and desire together to the point where they’re inseparable, and that suffocatingly charged atmosphere saturates the sound, costume and set design – from bedroom walls seemingly made of Cathy’s skin and latex-like dresses constraining her movements to stormy encounters in barns and cruel rituals of undressing. Fennell fuses that with a production design that’s rooted in nature, to the point where even the sound of a snail’s trail is overwhelmingly squelchy and intimate.

The cast are happy to lean into the heightened theatrics of it all, with Robbie boldly embracing the drama while still capturing the wounded insecurity of Cathy’s desperately sad schoolgirl crush. Martin Clunes steals the whole show as her horrific father, revelling in the grotesque appearance and mannerisms of a borderline cartoonish villain. It’s Jacob Elordi, though, who emerges as the key player, anchoring the extravagance in a decidedly understated and sympathetic turn as a man who you nonetheless definitely wouldn’t want as a partner.

Fennell’s far-from-subtle storytelling leaves this a far cry short of her best feature so far, Promising Young Woman – a little less framing and more courage to let the lead couple speak for themselves would have brought us a memorable Wuthering Heights for other reasons. As it stands, this enjoyably over-the-top incarnation is handsomely crafted and brilliantly acted, as it brings to life the experience of a teenager losing themselves in the tempestuous romance for the first time. But the result gives us less insight into the book than into the person behind the camera. Then again, perhaps that’s the point.