Since her feature film debut with Red Road in 2006, Andrea Arnold has been building quite a reputation for herself as a visionary filmmaker. She has shown an aptitude for harsh landscapes and even harsher characters, for using dialogue only when it's absolutely necessary, and for making films that are so up close and personal they're often uncomfortable to watch - Wuthering Heights is her magnum opus, making the best of all her directorial quirks to create an unusual take on tired material and resulting in a fascinating, disarming viewing experience.
As usual, Arnold's adaptation leaves out the second half of the novel and focuses intensely on Heathcliff and Catherine's relationship - she, though, places huge emphasis on their lives as children; a smart move, as by the time they're grown up you can see hints of their childhood feelings, passions and experiences still influencing them. Solomon Glave and Shannon Beer are captivating performers, very primal and instinctive which suits the tone and setting of the movie, and they are mostly silent which allows most of the development and interaction to come through physicality. A rare smile from Glave is more impactful than any line in the movie; the way Beer lightly touches him says more than words ever could.
Where Wuthering Heights truly stands out is in its infrastructure. It's incredibly bleak and barren, the sound of wind battering the microphones often drowning out the actors, and the regular landscape shots suggest a loneliness and a desolation that do wonders for the atmosphere. Arnold doesn't shy away from the dark, violent parts of the source material, and since the movie moves so slowly with very little happening, the violence seems more disturbing by comparison.
This, in my opinion, is the way the story is meant to be told. On release, readers were shocked by Emily Bronte's daring, and the book wasn't very popular because it's such an uncomfortable read - yet most movie adaptations romanticize it to some extent. Wuthering Heights is not a sweeping romance. It's not one of the great love stories. It's a tale of hereditary cruelty, frightening passion, selfish, twisted characters, distressing physical and emotional abuse, and Arnold understands that. Her filmmaking techniques might be unconventional, but in a sense, this is as by-the-books as any Wuthering Heights movie ever has been.
The second half of the film features an intensely physical performance from newcomer James Howson and an icy, erratic one from Kaya Scodelario, and is talkier than the first half - it's a nice contrast. It implies that as the characters grow, they learn to hurt each other with more than just their bodies. If I have one complaint it's that we don't see much of the adults, but that's not to suggest that their segment is in any way lacking the piercing power or derelict beauty of the first. A gorgeous shot of Scodelario with the sun in her hair might be the most memorable of the entire movie. Arnold ends the film with Mumford and Sons' The Enemy, the first full-length piece of music used, which effectively marks the ending as an event, closing the story with firm finality, and combined with a montage of flashbacks it lets the audience reflect on the journey these characters have taken with each other, and how much it's changed them by the end.
Wuthering Heights isn't for everyone - my first screening had a lot of fidgeting and walkouts - but there's no denying that it's an impressively ambitious, challenging movie and that I think is something to be respected. Whether or not daring like this actually works depends on the talents of the director, and Andrea Arnold has proved here that she has what it takes to go against the grain and successfully produce a unique, beautiful work of art.
As usual, Arnold's adaptation leaves out the second half of the novel and focuses intensely on Heathcliff and Catherine's relationship - she, though, places huge emphasis on their lives as children; a smart move, as by the time they're grown up you can see hints of their childhood feelings, passions and experiences still influencing them. Solomon Glave and Shannon Beer are captivating performers, very primal and instinctive which suits the tone and setting of the movie, and they are mostly silent which allows most of the development and interaction to come through physicality. A rare smile from Glave is more impactful than any line in the movie; the way Beer lightly touches him says more than words ever could.
Where Wuthering Heights truly stands out is in its infrastructure. It's incredibly bleak and barren, the sound of wind battering the microphones often drowning out the actors, and the regular landscape shots suggest a loneliness and a desolation that do wonders for the atmosphere. Arnold doesn't shy away from the dark, violent parts of the source material, and since the movie moves so slowly with very little happening, the violence seems more disturbing by comparison.
This, in my opinion, is the way the story is meant to be told. On release, readers were shocked by Emily Bronte's daring, and the book wasn't very popular because it's such an uncomfortable read - yet most movie adaptations romanticize it to some extent. Wuthering Heights is not a sweeping romance. It's not one of the great love stories. It's a tale of hereditary cruelty, frightening passion, selfish, twisted characters, distressing physical and emotional abuse, and Arnold understands that. Her filmmaking techniques might be unconventional, but in a sense, this is as by-the-books as any Wuthering Heights movie ever has been.
The second half of the film features an intensely physical performance from newcomer James Howson and an icy, erratic one from Kaya Scodelario, and is talkier than the first half - it's a nice contrast. It implies that as the characters grow, they learn to hurt each other with more than just their bodies. If I have one complaint it's that we don't see much of the adults, but that's not to suggest that their segment is in any way lacking the piercing power or derelict beauty of the first. A gorgeous shot of Scodelario with the sun in her hair might be the most memorable of the entire movie. Arnold ends the film with Mumford and Sons' The Enemy, the first full-length piece of music used, which effectively marks the ending as an event, closing the story with firm finality, and combined with a montage of flashbacks it lets the audience reflect on the journey these characters have taken with each other, and how much it's changed them by the end.
Wuthering Heights isn't for everyone - my first screening had a lot of fidgeting and walkouts - but there's no denying that it's an impressively ambitious, challenging movie and that I think is something to be respected. Whether or not daring like this actually works depends on the talents of the director, and Andrea Arnold has proved here that she has what it takes to go against the grain and successfully produce a unique, beautiful work of art.