Fennell her own worst enemy in Wuthering Heights
Emerald Fennell’s Wuthering Heights is a glorious, frustrating mess of a film. The
sumptuous production captivates with its broad visually romantic strokes, the director
putting her distinctive stamp on the Emily Bronte classic in using a vibrant and, at times
brooding, aesthetic that’s never less than captivating. And yet, the overall effect is brought low by Fennell’s tendency to go too far, shocking the viewer for shock’s sake with radical additions and alterations that either produce head-scratching moments or feelings of disgust. The end result is a curious disappointment that, ironically, despite its flaws, still proves haunting.
Much has been made about Fennell’s many changes to Cathy and Heathcliff’s doomed love story. There are so many, in fact, that space prevents me from listing them all. And while some of the alterations help streamline the story, far too many highlight and expand on the sensational aspects of the tale, to the film’s ultimate detriment.
The novel’s basic premise remains the same. Returning from a trip to England, the owner of Wuthering Heights, Earnshaw (Martin Clunes), has brought with him a child of the streets, a ragged boy he gives to his daughter, Catherine (Charlotte Mellington), as a present. She names him Heathcliff (Owen Cooper) after her dead brother, which sets in motion a story in which the two look after and torment one another over the years as they traipse around the moors and estate.
Time passes, Wuthering Heights gradually falls into ruin and Cathy (Margot Robie) longs to save her father and their home. She gets the chance when she catches the eye of Edgar Linton (Shazad Latif), who has just moved into Thrushcross Grange, a posh neighboring estate, with his sister Isabella (Alison Oliver). They soon marry, Cathy sacrificing her own happiness, leaving behind Heathcliff (Jacob Elordi) for the riches she’ll have at her disposal. However, her former playmate soon leaves, only to return some three years later, rich, handsome and eager to torment his former companion for having spurned him.
Combining Cathy’s brother and her father into one abusive character provides the story with expedience and provides some intriguing emotional tension between Earnshaw
and the children. Abusive towards Heathcliff, the scenes between the two when the
latter has returned to Wuthering Heights and becomes the owner, the old man still living
in the rundown home, have a greater impact. This is true as well between father and
daughter, Cathy coming to resent Earnshaw for having allowed his base nature get the best of him, at the cost of her home and happiness.
That Fenell alters Cathy’s purpose for marrying Linton is perhaps the most significant
change. Presenting her as a noble sacrifice, wedding out of expedience instead of selfishness, is a desperate attempt to make her more relatable and cast her in a more
sympathetic light. Yet, elements of the character’s capricious, frivolous nature still exist,
clashing with Fenell’s added traits of benevolence, making Cathy contradictory and
inaccessible.
Also of note is the alteration to Nelly (Hong Chau). The loyal servant from the novel has
become a duplicitous, manipulative woman who serves as the reason for the discord
between Cathy and Heathcliff. Cut from the same cloth as Mrs. Danvers from “Rebecca,” using the character in this way adds nothing of note to the story and robs it of the tragic, bitter irony that keeps the lovers apart.
Unable to curb her most lurid impulses, Fennell repeatedly implements a sordid aspect
to Cathy and Heathcliff’s romance in the third act. That they never consummated their
relationship in the novel and other adaptations maintains a degree of purity in their connection and contributes to their ultimate tragedy. Portraying them as two base, rutting animals makes the couple and story, common.
And yet, there are Fenell’s striking visuals which, momentarily, sweep you away. The
Grange is an ornate dollhouse brought to life, its vast rooms decked out in vibrant,
lacquered reds and pinks, its pristine nature, at times, blinding. Countering that is the
titular residence, a brooding, dark and dank structure that seems to have been cleaved
out of the massive rockface that looms behind it. While the Grange is a home of hope
and optimism, Wuthering Heights is a place of death and despair, from which nothing
healthy or moral can emerge.
The many gowns and outfits Robie dons are as stylized and striking as the home in
which Cathy resides, each gorgeously rendered and reflective of her moods. Equally
striking is a shot of her wedding gown with its vast train spread behind her as she walks
across the heath to her new life, a showstopping scene of many implications.
All of these elements are so well done, you wish they were in the service of a better
movie, perhaps a new version of Dracula. I couldn’t help but think during the film’s
darkest moments, including a shot of a river of blood flowing off a bed, were Fennell to
employ similar resources and her provocateur’s flair to the seminal horror story, it could
be quite something. To be sure, in the end it may be as inconsistent as this movie, but
her visual and thematic approach would be more in keeping with Bram Stoker’s novel.
Surprisingly, I found myself quite moved by the film’s final moments. Employing a
flashback in which we see the young Cathy and Heathcliff first declare their allegiance
to one another, the sincerity and purity of their bond is lovingly captured. Though she
may find it gauche, had Fennell applied as much energy to the story’s romantic aspects,
as she does to sensationalizing it, her Wuthering Heights may have rivaled the 1939 classic. As it is, this is the work of an immature artist, one who would rather shock her
audience, than compel them to feel. In theaters.
Powell slays in killing
A modern update of the classic English film Kind Hearts and Coronets, John Patton
Ford’s How to Make a Killing manages to finally give Glen Powell a role he can make
his own. With the exception of Richard Linklater’s Hit Man, the actor has labored in the
shadow of Tom Cruise (Top Gun: Maverick) and been saddled with character clones in
a reboot and a remake (Twisters and The Running Man). The “next big thing” hasn’t
had much of an opportunity to prove his movie star mettle and while his work in Killing
won’t guarantee him a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, he seems more at ease
here than he has previously.
From an early age, a sense of entitlement has been hammered into Becket Redfellow
(Powell). His mother, Grace (Nell Williams), the daughter of billionaire Whitelaw
Redfellow (Ed Harris), was disowned by her father after getting pregnant out of wedlock.
Forced to work at the New Jersey DMV, she makes sure Becket is aware that while
they’ve been ostracized, he’s still legally in line to inherit the family fortune. This is a
notion he puts out of his mind after she dies at a young age.
Content to live an ordinary life working at a Manhattan haberdashery, his yearning for
the fortune is reawakened when he crosses paths with his childhood crush, Julia
Steinway (Margaret Qualley). Choking on the silver spoon she was born with, Becket’s
well aware she’s out of his league, but if should manage to inherit the Redfellow
fortune…
His desire for Julia sets in motion our anti-hero’s plan to knock off the seven other
Redfellows who are in line to inherit the money before him. With the exception of his
benevolent Uncle Warren (Bill Camp), they’re a broadly drawn lot, each so heinous you
can’t wait to see what sort of end awaits them. Ford wisely doesn’t make any of the
murders overtly violent or gruesome, opting instead for ironic, darkly comedic deaths.
Television vets Topher Grace and Zach Woods provide broad humorous turns as
cousins Noah and Steven, the former an ego-driven artist, the latter an evangelical
fraud. As Becket’s love interest, Ruth, Jessica Henwick provides a sense of calm and
normality as the only ethical person in the film’s amoral universe, while Qualley, in full
femme fatale mode, looks as if she stumbled out of a Robert Mitchum film noir. Each of
these actors provide solid support, knowing full well this is Powell’s movie and making
the most of their moments on screen.
As for the star, he displays a degree of confidence and calm that’s been missing from
his previous work. Self-conscious and a bit too broad in many of his earlier films, there’s
an ease about Powell here that not only makes for a better performance, but allows him
to make a connection with viewers. The relationship between a performer and the
audience is based on their ability to identify with that person on screen, to believe there
is some personal connection or commonality between them. As Becket, Powell takes
the first step towards doing this, an approach he’d be wise to continue in future films. In
theaters.
Gripping Test an effective throwback
Where art and business are concerned, there’s a thought that if you’re going to steal an
idea, steal from the best. I’m sure Adam McDonald wasn’t doing this consciously when
adapting Courtney Summers’ novel This is Not a Test to the screen, but the influence of
George Romero and Sam Raimi on the film is obvious. I don’t mean this as a slight; just
because you recognize a solid approach doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll have the skill
to replicate it. It’s to McDonald’s credit that he can still find things to disturb and frighten
an audience in a zombie movie, the genre long past its sell-by date.
Setting the story in 1998, Summers puts her teen characters in immediate peril, what
with this being the pre-cellphone age. It’s a wise choice, as being cut off from the outside
world proves to be a major sticking point for the small group that finds refuge in their
well-fortified high school.
However, before the close quarters begin to wear on the five survivors, McDonald starts
things with a bang. The breakfast Sloane (Olivia Holt) and her abusive father (Jeff
Roop) are sharing is abruptly interrupted by the zombie apocalypse. Loud screams and
a car accident are heard and before she knows it, a member of the undead is in their
living room, munching on her father. Fleeing into the street, Slaone’s met with a
nightmarish situation, as packs of zombies hunt down the living, feasting on them in a
communal frenzy. McDonald’s jittery, on-the-run handheld shots effectively underscore
the chaos.
Helped by Rhys (Froy Gutierrez), Cary (Corteon Moore) and siblings Trace (Carson
MacCormac) and Grace (Chloe Avakian), the five teens barricade themselves in and try
to decide their next move. Complications ensue when they find a teacher, Mr. Baxter
(Luke MacFarlane), hiding in his room, who may or may not be infected; though sporting
a nasty bite, he claims it was not from a zombie.
As in the Romero films, questions of morality arise, each character revealing their true
nature when faced with life-or-death situations. Do they stay in a safe location or venture out for help? Do they wait and see if Baxter becomes a zombie or throw him out? Is a message left on a school phone saying things are safe to be trusted? And just which one of the impulsive teens is mature enough to lead them? The claustrophobia that sets in also has an effect on their outlook, as Summers accurately captures the teen mindset that results in decisions that aren’t fully thought out.
While McDonald does a good job increasing the tension throughout, perhaps his biggest
contribution is in having assembled a strong, young cast. So often, films of this nature
fail due to flat performances from teen performers, but across the board the five
principals are convincing. Perhaps most impressive, they garner our sympathy. The character of Sloane is front and center, as through flashbacks we become privy to her tumultuous homelife and its effects. Her mother having left, her older sister, Lily
(Joelle Farrow) has also abandoned her, leaving the young woman contemplating
suicide. For good or ill, the zombie outbreak scuttles that plan. Yet this proves to be a
transformative experience, witnessing death on a massive scale serving as a reminder
as to its precious nature.
This theme helps elevate the film above others of its ilk, McDonald and Summers
stressing the morality of the story rather than its violence. Briskly told and with an
ending that doesn’t disappoint, Test is a solid genre entry that shows that in the right
hands, even a well-worn premise can still be effective. In theaters.
