This is the quintessential screen adaptation of the famous classic. I hesitate to take on Emily Bronte's great and famous moor swept novel of anguished soul mates or that brilliant actor, Lawrence Olivier, but fear I must do both.
The tale recounted to Lockwood is of a Yorkshire gentleman named Mr. Earnshaw, who returns from a business trip with an orphan waif named Heathcliff. This ragged boy becomes an inseparable companion to Mr. Earnshaw's daughter, Catherine, but incurs enmity and ill use by her brother, Hindley. When they grow up, Cathy, though soul mate to Heathcliff, deigns him unworthy of her and chooses instead to marry her prosperous, socially respectable neighbour, Edgar Linton. Heathcliff's lifelong brooding, vengeful, and haunted response to her betrayal dominate the remainder of the story.
First, Emily Bronte has created a legendary figure in Heathcliff, but as my son has said, it's a brilliant story, poorly told. I agree with him that the novel extends far...far too many chapters after the climactic death of Catherine. However, who am I to argue with Emily Bronte? and since Hollywood chose to adapt her novel to the screen, it shouldn't simply have eliminated basically ALL these chapters, which do have a significant point to them. Personally, they somewhat bored me, but I feel, nevertheless, that the film didn't really do justice to the book. The movie only tells half the story, not delving into the younger generation of Lintons and Earnshaws at all, and not truly revealing the character of Heathcliff. I don't think poor Emily Bronte would be one bit pleased with Hollywood's half tale!
Also, although I am an enormous fan of Lawrence Olivier, surely one of the greatest actors of all time, he is woefully miscast here in the role of Heathcliff. Olivier's acting is stellar as always, but he comes across too much the handsome, educated English gentleman that he is, not the rugged, brooding Heathcliff. (Olivier is perfect as the wealthy and sophisticated country squire, Maxim DeWinter in Daphne DuMaurier's Rebecca, but not Heathcliff, please!) Furthermore, the film eliminates the crucial (if overlong!) latter Bronte chapters, in which Heathcliff proves rather a vindictive monster. This immortal villainous hero (or heroic villain) is just too sympathetic a victim here, especially when combined with Olivier's dashing gentlemanly demeanor.
The beauty of Wuthering Heights lies in its complexity, seeing the rather despicable creature Heathcliff becomes, yet having compassion for him because of his torment, as caused by his soul mate's betrayal and death. So, a simplified and flawed version of a great story, in my opinion, but an old classic worth watching from a sense of nostalgia.
The tale recounted to Lockwood is of a Yorkshire gentleman named Mr. Earnshaw, who returns from a business trip with an orphan waif named Heathcliff. This ragged boy becomes an inseparable companion to Mr. Earnshaw's daughter, Catherine, but incurs enmity and ill use by her brother, Hindley. When they grow up, Cathy, though soul mate to Heathcliff, deigns him unworthy of her and chooses instead to marry her prosperous, socially respectable neighbour, Edgar Linton. Heathcliff's lifelong brooding, vengeful, and haunted response to her betrayal dominate the remainder of the story.
First, Emily Bronte has created a legendary figure in Heathcliff, but as my son has said, it's a brilliant story, poorly told. I agree with him that the novel extends far...far too many chapters after the climactic death of Catherine. However, who am I to argue with Emily Bronte? and since Hollywood chose to adapt her novel to the screen, it shouldn't simply have eliminated basically ALL these chapters, which do have a significant point to them. Personally, they somewhat bored me, but I feel, nevertheless, that the film didn't really do justice to the book. The movie only tells half the story, not delving into the younger generation of Lintons and Earnshaws at all, and not truly revealing the character of Heathcliff. I don't think poor Emily Bronte would be one bit pleased with Hollywood's half tale!
Also, although I am an enormous fan of Lawrence Olivier, surely one of the greatest actors of all time, he is woefully miscast here in the role of Heathcliff. Olivier's acting is stellar as always, but he comes across too much the handsome, educated English gentleman that he is, not the rugged, brooding Heathcliff. (Olivier is perfect as the wealthy and sophisticated country squire, Maxim DeWinter in Daphne DuMaurier's Rebecca, but not Heathcliff, please!) Furthermore, the film eliminates the crucial (if overlong!) latter Bronte chapters, in which Heathcliff proves rather a vindictive monster. This immortal villainous hero (or heroic villain) is just too sympathetic a victim here, especially when combined with Olivier's dashing gentlemanly demeanor.
The beauty of Wuthering Heights lies in its complexity, seeing the rather despicable creature Heathcliff becomes, yet having compassion for him because of his torment, as caused by his soul mate's betrayal and death. So, a simplified and flawed version of a great story, in my opinion, but an old classic worth watching from a sense of nostalgia.