Unpopular Opinion: Wuthering Heights Is Camp Surrealism At Its Finest
oh, the yearning
By Victoria Lewis | 19th February 2026As divisive as it has been desirable, there has been no such period film as anticipated as the latest rendition of Wuthering Heights.
A press tour that captured our hearts, a film that’s got fans’ tongues wagging and critics’ brows frowning, this – albeit loose – adaptation of Emily Brontë’s 1847 novel has taken on a life of its own – not just a film, but a cultural zeitgeist.
It’s February 15th (aka Galentine’s Day), it’s me and five of my closest girlfriends, a bottle of merlot, and a cinema nearly to ourselves – the stage was set, it was time to visit the moors.
I must admit I feel a sense of protectiveness over the film, given that our hometown heroes Margot Robbie and Jacob Elordi are QLD’s sweethearts. I’d swooned over the press tour looks, heard the rants, digested the criticisms – I wasn’t sure what I was walking into, but one thing’s for sure. The film asks us to come undone, and unravel I did.
Since when is being aesthetically driven such a sin?
Okay, yes, a lot of this movie’s charm was in the aesthetics. We get a glimpse inside director Emerald Fennell’s technicolour fantasy world where the clothes are extravagant, the emotions are heightened, and the wuthering moors only fuel the drama. Wuthering Heights is camp, and my goodness, am I here for the ridiculousness of it all. Fennell has said that her stylistic choices for the film were based on her reading of the novel as a 14-year-old girl – full of lust, full of imagination.
The result is less of a period piece and more of a whimsical fever dream, and frankly, it’s impossible to look away. This isn’t the first time Fennell has pushed the boundaries, though, known for her work on Saltburn and Promising Young Woman – two other films aided by aesthetic choices and elements of the unusual.
Stylistically speaking, I’d classify the film as a genre bender. When you bring modern music from Charlie XCX, face gems, outrageous costuming, giant strawberries, ‘skin’ walls, and dog leashes, you’ve got something that bends reality in an intoxicating, surreal bliss.
People have criticised the film for favouring aesthetics over substance, but even if it does, is that such a crime?
Costuming concerns quashed
The film’s costume designer, Jacqueline Durran, has really been copping it online for her historically inaccurate silhouettes. But she is in no way a stranger to designing period costumes whilst taking modern-day liberties; her previous work on Atonement, for instance (remember the green dress) shows this. I say, it’s a drama, not a doco, let the girl live!
The costumes were dreamlike, extravagant, and whimsical. On Cathy, this means intricate corsetry, latex, colour blocking, and outlandish furs. And on our hunky Heathcliff, this means dapper waistcoats, pussy bows, and a cheeky gold earring (we see you). Durran casts a modern eye over the Georgian period, and it’s everything upped in vibrance and volume (read: camp).
Durran is the master, and her costumes are a big part of what turned this movie into a moment – and that’s all I’ll say on the matter.
Fall in lust (again and again)
No one can deny that this film is a real scorcher, and on Galentine’s Day no less. Erotically charged, the love scenes sometimes toed the line between sexy and derranged – again, camp!
My mind kept casting back to that interview where Margot Robbie spoke of hosting a pre-screening with her closest friends, saying, “if [Elordi] walked in right now, I think they would eat him.” After about the ten-minute mark, looking around the cinema, I could see what she was talking about.
This group of girls (us) spent the first hour and a half of the movie giggling like schoolgirls and drooling over back muscles and sideburns, with the occasional gasp thrown in there for good measure. There is no denying it; those two have on-screen chemistry.
You can’t help but get swept up by the intoxicatingly taboo nature of it all.
The drama, the devastation, but was it a masterpiece?
If there is one thing that always gets me in a film, it’s a flashback. So it should have come as no surprise that in those last minutes of the film, the waterworks arrived. It seems we switch from extravagant and sexy to devastation at the drop of a hat – a sudden change that jolted the system, and it caught me off guard. I was taken from giggling in the dark with the girls to tears running down my cheeks, quite the plot twist if you ask me. It all felt like it all came to a halt just a tad too quickly.
Though the film was entertaining, that’s not to say there isn’t some very valid criticism about the casting choices, and a definite lack of cultural nuance that came as a consequence.
It’s a step away from accurate literary depiction and a leap into a teenage fantasy world, feeling nostalgic, uncomfortable, and addictive all at the same time.
All in all, should a movie like this be allowed to exist? Yes. Should it have been touted as an adaptation of Wuthering Heights? Maybe not. But did the movie wrap me up in a warm embrace for two-and-a-bit hours? Absolutely. What a way to spend Galentine’s Day.
Imagery: @wutheringheightsmovie
