I recently had an opportunity to watch Wuthering Heights.
My recommendation: DO NOT WATCH THIS MOVIE!!
It is DEPRESSING AS HELL!!!
I'm not sure why Heathcliff looks like Jack the Ripper in the movie poster.
From 1939, Wuthering Heights is centered around the star crossed burning for each other lovers Heathcliff and Cathy who just fricking love each fricking other until it fricking hurts.
And Cathy dies!!!
Whoa! Watch out with the spoilers there!
Well, not quite.
Like All About Eve which I wrote about last week, Wuthering Heights is one long flashback and we see Cathy's ghost up front.
A traveler named Lockwood is staying at Wuthering Heights when he sees a woman outside calling "Heathcliff, let me in! I'm out on the moors. It's Cathy!"
Heathcliff goes running after and Ellen, the housekeeper, tells the amazed Lockwood that he has seen the ghost of Cathy Earnshaw, Heathcliff's one true love who died years ago. An incredulous Lockwood settles in as Ellen tells the tale.
Heathcliff is a poor orphan boy living rough in the streets. Mr. Earnshaw brings him home to live with his two children, Cathy and Hindley at Wuthering Heights.
Heathcliff cleans up pretty well and Cathy takes a liking to him. Hindley is a total and relentless prick who takes a sadistic delight in abusing Heathcliff physically and emotionally at every moment. It is an abuse that only gets worse when Mr. Earnshaw dies and Hindley becomes master of the estate.
As young adults, Heathcliff and Cathy have fallen in love and meet secretly on Penniston's Crag which they imagine as their castle far away from a desperately dour world where dreadful men like Hindley hold sway.
One night, Cathy and Heathcliff sneak unto the neighboring Linton family estate where they are having a party. Guard dogs are on the alert and bite Cathy, seriously injuring her leg.
The Lintons are all concerned about Cathy. As far as Heathcliff is concerned, the sooner this dirty, unrefined stable hand leaves, the better.
Cathy remains in the care of the Linton family for a long while, more than enough time for Cathy to appreciate the finer things in life and long enough for Edgar Linton to fall in love with her.
Edgar proposes, Cathy says yes and Heathcliff finally knows when he's not wanted and runs away.
Two years later, Heathcliff has returned having earned his fortune in America, now wealthy and with a refined bearing. He buys Wuthering Heights our from under Hindley's sorry ass who has pissed away the family fortune in alcohol and gambling.
Heathcliff tries his sex whammy on Cathy but she is steadfast in her loyalty to Edgar even though she is clearly wobbly in the knees for Heathcliff.
Edgar's sister Isabella gets caught in the crossfire of Heathcliff's sex whammy and now she's all hot and bothered for Heathcliff.
Heathcliff and Isabella get married even though Heathcliff is still hot for Cathy and can barely tolerate Isabella's existence.
And Isabella knows this.
NOBODY in this DAMN MOVIE is HAPPY!! At all!
Then Cathy gets sick and is about to die. She has that illness that strikes female movie characters where they have smooth flawless luminescent skin and beautiful cascading hair as they slowly and dramatically die.
Cathy dies in Heathcliff's arms.
With Edgar standing right there.
Jesus H. Christ! This is a depressing movie.
We go back to the present where Heathcliff dies while chasing Cathy's ghost in the snow.
For the utterly dour and depressed Heathcliff, this counts as a happy ending.
The last scene is of the ghosts of Heathcliff and Cathy walking in the snow towards Penniston Crag.
With I imagine the ghost of Edgar Linton standing over to the side. "God damn it! I'm standing right here!"
Let me say it again:
NOBODY in this DAMN MOVIE is HAPPY!! At all!
And that's not just what we see on screen.
- Lawrence Olivier (Heathcliff) was cranky. He didn't want to be there.
- Merle Oberon (Cathy) was irritable. She didn't want to be there.
- Olivier and Oberon detested each other.
- And Olivier hated William Wyler, the director.
- Wyler was pissed off at producer Samuel Goldwyn.
The 1939 version of Wuthering Heights is considered a classic of American cinema and objectively, I can see why. The cinematography is gorgeous and everyone is acting the hell out of this thing.
But the sheer weight of the drama, the unrelenting pathos that informs every single damn thing that anyone does in this movie is a bit much to bear.
DO NOT WATCH THIS MOVIE!!
Unless you need a good cry. Grab a quart of ice cream, put on your PJs and then hunker down with Wuthering Heights.
Maybe make that 2 quarts of ice cream.
Let's close things off with some music with Hayley Westenra's cover of the Kate Bush classic "Wuthering Heights".
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