Wuthering Heights — 4/5
Well, well, well, look who's been shitting on Emerald Fennell for the past year, who now has to eat said shit. It's me! Man, this movie looks and sounds fucking great. Flesh-covered walls, blood red skies. "I think I'm going to die in this hoooouuuse." I thought this story was some 'Jane Eyre' shit, but man — Guillermo del Toro wishes he could capture this kind of gothic atmosphere. This movie feels dangerous. It feels like a distant world; I am compelled by the people in it. Jacob Elordi continues to embody the worst boyfriend you could ever have. At some point, I've told someone that he'd make a better Frankenstein than a Frankenstein's Monster, and here you have it, proof positive. And I think here Emerald Fennell is still doing that contrarian shit, except unfortunately I am also a contrarian, oops, and I happen to share a sentiment here — love is a destructive force. Love turns people into monsters. Love kills people. There has to be a force greater than that, because I don't think it's the answer everyone is thinking it is.
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