Emerald Fennell’s 2026 adaptation of Wuthering Heights has ignited a cultural stir, raising questions that reach far beyond the moors of Brontë’s classic. Is this a bold reimagining that breathes new life into Gothic literature, or a tone-deaf “bodice ripper” that strips the original of its soul? The intensity of the backlash suggests the answer—like the novel itself—is far from simple.
The casting steers away from what’s been initially perceived over the years. Jacob Elordi, a white Australian actor, takes on the role of Heathcliff, a character repeatedly described as “dark-skinned” and marked as a perpetual outsider. For decades, scholars have noted Heathcliff’s ambiguous ethnicity as central to the novel’s themes of alienation and societal cruelty. By choosing Elordi, critics argue that Fennell not only whitewashes him but also sanitises the raw, thorny social commentary Brontë embedded in the story. The charge stings all the more in an era when authentic representation is demanded, not merely requested.
With Margot Robbie’s Catherine styled like a modern influencer and Charli XCX blaring on the soundtrack, Fennell’s vision feels aggressively contemporary. Instead of windswept bleakness, trailers promise “brat-style” aesthetics and sexual provocation, which also goes all wild—something that we do not perceive from the novel itself.
Somewhere, the narrative severs the story’s heart, leaving only the fever-dream romance and violence on display.
Fennell and her cast defend their choices as artistic interpretation—which, apparently, is fair. Yet for legions of Brontë devotees, Wuthering Heights doesn’t stop at being only romance—it’s a howl against injustice, class, and prejudice. Whether Fennell’s film is a fresh vision or a tone-deaf misfire, the ferocity of the response proves this Gothic classic still sets hearts—and debates—on fire.
