In 1847, Emily Brontë published a tale of a couple as bound by a deep love as by bitter resentment. The relationship between Catherine Earnshaw and Heathcliff in “Wuthering Heights” is as wild and elemental as the moors where this love story takes place. That is, if you even consider it a love story — because that designation doesn’t properly encapsulate the plot that unfolds around the pair, the passions that draw them together, tear them apart and transcend life and death, rippling through future generations.
In the 179 years since Brontë’s Gothic classic was published, Heathcliff and Cathy (as he calls her), have been resurrected in different forms. While many of the earlier adaptations focused on the social constraints that doomed the couple, contemporary adaptations have moved more toward fetishizing the destructive romance. These six versions (completists can watch many, many more) — spanning the past 85 years — show the wild swings in passion, temperament and power dynamics.
1939: Laurence Olivier and Merle Oberon as Troubled Sophisticates
This early adaptation is a sleek, polished take in which the elegance of high society belies a subtle undercurrent of horror. In ballrooms, this Heathcliff and Cathy stand on opposite ends, trapped in each other’s gaze; the tension in the air between them isn’t loving as much as it is chilling.
Armed with a silent, piercing stare, Olivier’s Heathcliff seems justified in his anger, like a noble man alone in a world of loose morals and wrongdoings. And even through Heathcliff’s worst moments, Olivier’s effortlessly refined performance and leading man charm doesn’t allow Heathcliff to be as depraved as some later adaptations will portray him.
Opposite him, Oberon’s Cathy is a woman deluded by the promise of wealth and comfort. She tries desperately to maintain an air of sophistication, to blend in with the society she’s chosen. But Heathcliff always breaches her calm exterior. Fear sits behind her eyes, which widen with dismay at every appearance or even mention of Heathcliff. As much as she tries to deny it, she knows she and Heathcliff are intractably linked, a fact that, far from pleasing her, actually unravels her. In one scene, she declares, “I am Heathcliff!” while the rain pounds violently on the windows behind her. Gothic? Ghoulish? This adaptation did it first.
1958: Richard Burton and Rosemary Harris as Histrionic Lovers
If the 1939 “Wuthering Heights” is more polite in temper, then this live TV version is as tempestuous as the storming moors. Richard Burton’s Heathcliff boils over with cynicism and outsize passion, similar to the history professor of Albee’s famous play that he would portray eight years later, opposite Elizabeth Taylor, in the film adaptation of “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf.” This Heathcliff is blustering and ill-tempered, his relationship with Cathy noticeably more sensual, full of enthusiastic makeouts and hearty caresses.
“You just want to lay hands on me all the time!” Cathy declares in one scene, as Heathcliff gropes her on the ground. Rosemary Harris’s Cathy is aloof, a bit coquettish, but with her own capacity for rage. In a decade of entertainment marked by rebellion, paranoia and spectacle, this “Wuthering Heights” revels in the soapy melodrama between its lovers.
1967: Ian McShane and Angela Scoular as Social Antipodes
Though many adaptations focus on romance, Brontë’s book is as much (perhaps even more, I’d argue) a social commentary. Class power dynamics are at the forefront in this version, in which the spoiled Earnshaw children seem completely unloved by their father, who prefers the more amenable, lower class Heathcliff, whom he has taken in. Angela Scoular’s Cathy comes across as an overindulged, rich child in the guise of an adult woman. She’s flighty, spiteful and capricious, prone to pinching servants and rolling on the floor in an unfettered tantrum. She’s also all too happy to brag about how Heathcliff acts as her personal servant, always ready to do her bidding.
The young Ian McShane’s Heathcliff is brooding and proud, not unlike Olivier’s. This Heathcliff also feels justified in his anger because of the abuse he suffers on account of his race and class — all his life he’s beaten and dismissed as a “gypsy cur.” Not as polite as the 1939 adaptation nor as theatrical as the 1958 one, this take is gruff and at all times aware of how Heathcliff and Cathy clash with society.
1992: Ralph Fiennes and Juliette Binoche as Ruined Romantics
The most classically romantic adaptation on this list, this “Wuthering Heights” has silly wigs and soured affections in equal measure. From the ’90s on, adaptations shifted into a more atmospheric mode, with this film as the prime example. Cathy and Heathcliff lounge among the rocks, enveloped by fog. She sits between his legs while he plays dotingly with her hair. They chase each other like children — Binoche’s Cathy is playful and wild but strikingly earnest, easily overcome by peals of giggles. There’s a doomed Romeo and Juliet quality to the couple in this version. Their flirty play is interrupted by foreboding storms crossing the sky; in every scene it seems clear that these innocent lovers are fated to be heartbroken.
When this Cathy first meets Edgar Linton, her features suddenly seem to harden and mature as she sees in Edgar’s adoring gaze the option of a more elegant life. Heathcliff’s anxious visage during Cathy’s absence relays the insecurities of a lost orphan boy. This is a “Wuthering Heights” of spoiled innocence, where Heathcliff transforms from youthful lover to degenerate villain and Cathy leaves her girlish delights behind.
2009: Tom Hardy and Charlotte Riley as Toxic Exes
“Sometimes I think your true passion is hate rather than love.” This line from Cathy to Heathcliff defines the 2009 adaptation. Fitting for its era, this version is sexy and unhinged, with a Heathcliff who’s the toxic ex-boyfriend advice columns warn you about. Cathy and Heathcliff aren’t too modest to kiss and grope each other outside, even as Heathcliff’s back bleeds from a recent flogging.
Charlotte Riley’s Cathy is continuously described as “savage,” “wild” and “untamed,” but her love for Heathcliff seems more like a passionate infatuation than a deep-seated affection. When she chooses Edgar over Heathcliff, status and wealth factor into the decision, but also the prospect of an easier, more accommodating relationship overall. The sexual dynamics are emphasized as well, with Edgar portrayed as a cuckold and Cathy and Heathcliff as sexually free.
Downright feral in his passions, Tom Hardy’s Heathcliff repeatedly raps his head against a rock wall in frustration when he sees Cathy and Edgar chatting. His eyes glass over and his face runs with tears as he raves over Cathy’s death and later digs up her grave, caressing her skeleton. Self-destructive romance is the theme here.
2026: Jacob Elordi and Margot Robbie as Shallow Sensualists
Lusty and superficial, this new “Wuthering Heights” aims to present a showy display of passion but without believable chemistry to match. Jacob Elordi and Margot Robbie are nice to look at, and certainly go through the saucy motions, but their amorous affections never seem to go deeper than the heavy breathing and orgasmic gasps.
Fennell’s ornate visuals try to make the case for the difference in class between Heathcliff and Cathy; the script and performances have little to add. And this is not an idealized romance or even a decidedly destructive one; rather, this love is about ownership and desire, in a more contemporary, kinky context. Most of the other characters are either consolidated or cut, putting nearly the entire focus on Cathy and Heathcliff — though the depiction of their relationship suffers for it.
Maya Phillips is an arts and culture critic for The Times.
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