Emerald green Fennell’s take on Emily Brontë is a psychologically hollow, bodice-ripping misfire that misuses Margot Robbie and Jacob Elordi however maximizes Martin Clunes
Emerald Fennell cranks up the campery as she reinvents Emily Brontë’s story of Cathy and Heathcliff on the windy Yorkshire moor as a 20-page fashion shoot of ruthless stupidity, with bodices ripped to shreds and a saucy put of BDSM. Margot Robbie‘s Cathy at one phase secretly avoids to the moor for a hilarious little self-pleasuring– although, regretfully, there are no audaciously intercut scenes of thirst-trap Heathcliff, played by Jacob Elordi, all at once doing the same point in the stable, while sputtering gruffly in that Yerrrrrkshire accent of his.This after that
is Fennell’s Wuthering Heights, or rather “Wuthering Heights”; the title archly appears in upside down commas, although the postmodern paradox appears pointless. Cathy is a primped belle trembling in the existence of Heathcliff, that himself is a moody, long-haired, bearded outsider, as if Scarlett O’Hara were going to melt into the arms of Charles Manson. Nonetheless, he does get considerably Darcyfied up later, shaking a much shorter and more winning hairdo, his gossamer-thin t shirt never completely dry.
Source: The Guardian