FILM REVIEW
Review Scoring Chart - 10: Masterpiece; 9: Outstanding; 8: Very Good; 7: Good; 6: Above Average; 5: Average; 4: Below Average; 3: Bad; 2: Awful; 1: Reprehensible; 0: Non- Functional.
WUTHERING HEIGHTS
Dir: Andrea Arnold
Stars: Kaya Scodelario, James Howson, Solomon Glave, Shannon Beer
Running Time: 130mins
Period dramas are often a fair bit darker on the page than they have
turned out on the screen, where many of the less audience-friendly
concepts get glossed over by a dense layer of corset envy and Colin
Firth going for an inadvisable swim in a nearby pond, fully clothed but
entirely out of character. Director Andrea Arnold's adaptation of Wuthering Heights
aims to bring some grit to a genre that has largely turned into a
fashion show, bringing in handheld cameras, myriad racial politics and
Effy from Skins.
Apart from ditching the bookends where Mr. Lockwood discovers the
history of the Heights from a chatty housekeeper, that the adaptation
stays relatively faithful to the text while adding a contemporary edge
speaks well for Arnold's nuance in picking out the most timeless
elements of Emily Brontë's novel. The film is still set in the 19th
Century, but with its historical dressings so subdued as to feel more as
though it takes place in a tiny little universe of its own. It may not
be a perfect film by any stretch, but it does feel like a fresh take on
well-worn material, which is a rare and commendable thing.
It will come as no surprise to any viewers that director Arnold's history is in minimalist kitchen sink dramas, with her debut Red Road
being set on a council estate and shot according to the Danish rules of
Dogma filmmaking, as devised by Thomas Vinterberg and Lars 'chaos
reigns' Von Trier. Here, the urban sprawl is replaced by the wide open,
wind-ravaged moors occupying the space between the farm where
Heathcliff works and the manor where his beloved Catherine is eventually
sent to learn the ways of a polite laydee. Dainty soundtracks are abandoned in favour of howling gales - only one piece of music is used, and it's a
mood-breaker at a crucial moment. Youthful disaffection expresses
itself on long walks through nettles and thistles, rather than
hanging out in gangs on street corners. In taking Brontë's description
of Heathcliff as dark-skinned to mean black, rather than the original
gypsy, the film replaces the novel's concerns about class with more
modern questions of race.
There's also the language, replete with effing, blinding, and the
occasional See You Next Tuesday for good measure. Thanks to Arnold so
effortlessly marrying the 19th century setting with more modern day
presentation - take notes, Ralph Fiennes - it is a smoother fit than
might be expected. One of the problems with many period dramas is that
even the poor are presented with a certain nobility, as though they're
much the same as their upper caste companions, only in less colourful
outfits.
Arnold uses harsher language to emphasize how much more
dangerous and aggressive life is on the farm compared to the manor. When
resources are tight, it's be or be killed, and anyone taking what is
yours - work, food, a father's affection - instantly becomes an enemy in
the struggle to stay alive. For whatever shock value swearing can have
any more, it is justified as character detail in this case. Hindley's
hatred and racial abuse of Heathcliff is more rooted in his being forced
to give up room in the family home to a stranger than it is to the fact
that Heathcliff is specifically black.
The cast are good, but occasionally struggle to keep up with the
naturalism of the rest of the presentation. Kaya Scodelario, as the
older Cathy, is a little too actorly in her manner to convey the depth
of her feelings and anger towards Heathcliff. It is a decent
performance, but noticeably a performance. When she stamps on
Heathcliff's face, in a fit of frustration at her inability to control
him, it's too staged to have the desired impact. Her slightly exotic
looks also don't quite fit with the rural, more bullish beauty of
Shannon Beer as the young Cathy.
James Howson as older Heathcliff
conveys the character's intensity, but sometimes the longing stares look
a little blank-eyed. It's a remarkable effort for someone who had never
acted before, but almost the opposite problem to Scodelario - she's too
trained, he can't quite get the nuance to complement his instincts. The
younger actors (Shannon Beer and Solomon Glave) have more chemistry
than their adult counterparts and thus end up offering more balanced
performances.
Because of the grown-up actors' difficulty in conveying their
characters' raw, almost animalistic longing to possess one another, the
film's dramatic centre always feels one step removed from where it needs
to be. Heathcliff's agony is tangible - moreso than Cathy's - but the
intensity does not quite come through as it should. We get a better
sense of that side of the characters through the camera's obsession with
texture and tactile sensation, lingering on prickly mountaintop fauna,
different types of feather, the burning red of Cathy's billowing coat,
or a fierce rainstorm splattering off Heathcliff's despondent face.
Arnold's presentation is brave and astonishing, a serrated edge
interpretation of a genre that has been blunt for far too long. If only
its heart pounded a little stronger beneath that hardened skin, it might
have really conquered the Heights in the way it only threatens to. [ 7 ]
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