The cultural cache of Emily Brontë’s iconic novel Wuthering Heights should not be underestimated by any means – one of the most beloved novels of the romanticism era, and one that spurred numerous adaptations, imitations and even a classic song that has once again become wildly popular with the younger generation this past summer. One of the foremost interpretation of the author’s work came from the esteemed William Wyler, one of the most devilishly prolific directors of his generation, and someone who could pull together a quality film with absolute ease. His version of Wuthering Heights is perhaps the definitive screen version (albeit being one of many attempts to interpret the work that elides a large portion of the novel, almost a convention at this point), a cinematic odyssey into one of literature’s greatest romances, and most heartbreaking tragedies. Wyler’s consistency as a director, as well as his tendency to move aside in favour of putting the actors in control, worked immensely well here, and resulted in a fascinating foray into the stunning world Brontë created nearly two centuries ago, and which is only made more compelling through the vivid directorial choices made by a filmmaker that was already well on his way to commanding the medium, but still willing to do the necessary work to establish a tone that is poetic but not too overly sing-song in its approach to a text that often oscillates between being hopelessly dense and glorious in its splendour, depending on who is behind the adaptation. Not necessarily the film that will convert cynics to this era of filmmaking, or this kind of overly romantic, Victorian-era storytelling, but rather one that will satisfy both casual fans and passionate devotees, who will doubtlessly find Wyler’s delicate but assured vision serves this film exceptionally well, and elevates it far beyond the confines normally seen with this kind of period romance.

Wuthering Heights, despite being a classic of literature, has received its fair share of criticism, especially from those who view it as an overly-sentimental, heavy-handed romance that appeals to those who like to situate themselves outside of reality – some dreadful individuals may even reduce it to the status of simply being the horribly inappropriate term “women’s literature”, an outdated term that is as offensive as it is entirely misguided and inaccurate. What most don’t realize is that this has become such a cherished piece of fiction for a reason – like any work of art that transcends time outside of its period of creation must have some merit, and venturing into the world of the  Brontë through their writing shows exactly why they’re considered stalwarts of not only the Romantic era, but as timeless authors whose work reflects issues far broader than the Victorian-era sensibilities they were surrounded by. Wyler understands all of this, and makes sure to employ a large amount of meaning into even the most inconsequential passages. The journey from the printed page to the silver screen is one filled with obstacles, and many of the finest filmmakers have found challenges along the way – the key is to remain close enough to the source material to be faithful, but deviate enough to allow for the director to assert their own directorial vision. Wyler was assured enough to not allow himself to be intimidated by cherished material, and as a result manages to go his own direction, remaining close to the novel, but also providing his own insights into its plethora of themes, which aren’t restricted to this particular story, but have real-world significance as well, which makes for a truly compelling piece of period drama, the kind that speaks to a much wider set of ideas.

An adaptation of a novel like Wuthering Heights depends almost entirely on the individuals who are given the chance to bring these characters to life. Wyler (and his extensive crew of screenwriters tasked with adapting the book) can only do so much before it falls into the hands of the actors. This film does deliver very strong performances, albeit none that particularly stand out beyond being solid portrayals of iconic literary characters. The stunningly beguiling Merle Oberon plays the doomed heroine Cathy, whose demise serves as the bookends for the immense tragedy that lingers over the film, while Laurence Olivier matches her beat-for-beat as the servant-turned-master Heathcliff. The pair have impeccable chemistry, and manage to evoke such earnest, honest emotion from the most subdued moments, situations where they convey entire conversations through something as simple as a longing glance, or a subtle expression. Wuthering Heights is built on their performances, and while neither had their careers defined by their work here, it does provide them both with an early example of their range, with their classical sensibilities merging with both the archaic source material, and Wyler’s unique vision of where to take this story, making for riveting viewing. The characterization in Wuthering Heights is incredibly strong, and whether dealing with the two main characters, or more peripheral individuals (such as Geraldine Fitzgerald in a small but pivotal role as Cathy’s jealous step-sister, a very young and dashing David Niven as the maniacal socialite that Cathy has to settle for marrying, or Flora Robson as the well-meaning handmaid who has a few stories to tell, which serves as the framing device for the film as a whole), there is an admirable amount of work being put in to bring this to the screen in an authentic and massively meaningful way.

Despite often being considered a package deal, period dramas and romance don’t always work well together, and part of adapting Wuthering Heights into a strong film entails understanding that it’s simply not enough for the story to hinge on these two aspects – gorgeous gowns and lavish interiors may be pleasing to look at, and we might be captivated by the passion demonstrated between characters, but what truly keeps us captivated is a clear sense of direction, and an outright willingness to expand on the world provided by the source. Restricting one’s adaptation to just the original text, and not perceiving it as the bare-bones from which the director is supposed to evolve their own vision, is a fatal flaw, but one that Wyler deftly avoids. This version of Wuthering Heights plays into a wide range of other genres – the romance is certainly present and does form the basis for much of the story. Yet, there are other forays into a variety of genres – the opening is akin to a dark psychological thriller (with the peak of the early scenes being more unsettling than anything seen in most horror films), and the ending surrenders itself to magical realism, and a number of other conventions are woven into the fabric of the film that occurs in between it. Wyler’s direction may not be amongst his best (and he wasn’t often the most extravagant of visual stylists, particularly at this point in his career), but he absolutely knew how to evoke emotion from every situation, with Wuthering Heights brimming with elegance and metaphysical poetry, which pervades every scene, even those that may not be normally considered to be particularly strong in isolation.

Wuthering Heights is a very strong film, but one that requires some patience from the viewer, especially those not acclimated to slow-burning, paced period dramas that aren’t compelled to reach any coherent point, and are more satisfied with just being beautiful descriptors of life during a particular period. As perhaps the definitive film version of the novel, it’s a worthwhile endeavour for both those who adore Brontë’s work, and potential devotees who are looking to become familiar with these stories, without committing to first venturing into the novels themselves (a challenging but thoroughly worthwhile endeavour). Wyler’s strong direction, which often entails simply shepherding this story between narrative points, is incredible, and the general emotional resonance that comes about as a result of the director picking out the most resounding moments of passion from a layered novel, makes for a captivating film that is never satisfied with neutrality. Beautifully poetic in form, and stunning in how it traverses a number of genres without ever being self-indulgent, Wuthering Heights is a very effective film, requiring very little from the viewer other than full commitment to exploring the lives of these star-crossed lovers, following them on their various (meta)physical journeys, and the many trials and tribulations of their romance. The moments of joy are abundant, and the various tragedies are difficult to experience, but still thoroughly worthwhile, since they reveal far more about the human condition than we’d expect. It’s a simple, straightforward film, with genuine emotions, solid performances and a faithful approach to the source material, which is essentially everything that a strong literary adaptation should strive to be.