Review by Adam Donato

Review by Chadd Clubine

Emerald Fennell made a striking debut as a director with 2020’s Promising Young Woman, then further cemented her distinctive style with Saltburn. Love it or hate it, Fennell deliberately crafts imagery designed to unsettle, lingering in the mind long after the credits roll. Her latest film, Wuthering Heights, continues that provocative trajectory—one that has firmly established her as a standout voice in contemporary cinema. Early reports from test screenings initially suggested trouble, but whether those concerns were overblown or addressed in the final cut, this is shaping up to be Fennell’s most divisive film yet.

The film’s first half feels plucked straight from a Tim Burton fever dream. Every beat is deliberate, steeped in a dreary atmosphere and propelled by a soaring score. While the introduction may not directly serve the larger narrative, it vividly establishes the tone and foreshadows what’s to come. Composer Anthony Willis strikes the film’s emotional core, while Charli XCX’s contributions inject a modern edge that refreshes the story. From there, the production design fully immerses the viewer in its gothic world, rich with precise, evocative detail. The cinematography frames each scene in striking, unexpected ways, while the sets and costume design deepen the sense of place, pulling the audience further into this haunting landscape.
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Emerald Fennell assembles the right talent to anchor the story, even if the characterization itself lacks sufficient depth. The chemistry between Margot Robbie and Jacob Elordi is palpable and convincing, while their younger counterparts add welcome texture to their arcs. Adolescence’s Owen Cooper even makes a surprise appearance as a young Heathcliff. Robbie and Elordi’s shared intensity sells the illusion of two souls fated for one another. However, Fennell’s effort to complicate these characters often results in choices that feel inconsistent with their development, ultimately making it harder for the audience to fully connect with them.

By the time the second half arrives, the film’s momentum noticeably falters. The pacing slows, the tone grows muddled, and the narrative becomes increasingly predictable. Rather than taking bolder creative risks, Fennell opts for safer storytelling, resulting in a film that feels overly familiar—an unintended reminder of just how influential this story has been. For a filmmaker of Fennell’s stature, the material ultimately lacks the impact it promises. The film closes on an ambiguous note that feels less provocative than emotionally distant, leaving viewers uncertain of what the story is meant to convey. Whenever the film flirts with risk, it quickly pulls back, and despite its two-hour-and-ten-minute runtime, it never fully interrogates the motivations behind its characters’ actions. Without that deeper insight, the experience can feel curiously isolating rather than immersive.
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Regardless of how one ultimately feels about the film, Emerald Fennell once again proves adept at crafting work that sparks conversation and provokes emotion. It would be refreshing to see her return to more original material—something that allows her to feel less constrained by its source and more daring in its storytelling. Still, she succeeds in establishing a striking tone, drawing two compelling performances from her leads, and delivering some of the strongest cinematography of her career. Even so, the film’s purpose may feel elusive to some viewers, particularly as the second half slows and struggles to maintain its momentum.

Wuthering Heights is in theaters February 13th!

Review by Steve Barton II

Review by Chadd Clubine

​Alexander Skarsgård has made a formidable impression through his film and television work over the past decade, and his name alone may be the film’s strongest draw aside from its premise. Opposite him is Harry Melling, whom many will recognize from the Harry Potter series. The two performers could not be more different, a contrast that ultimately makes them ideal for their respective roles. Skarsgård excels in a part seemingly tailored to his strengths, while Melling emerges as a compelling and assured leading man. Together, their performances bring the film’s themes into sharp focus, allowing its ideas to resonate long after the final frame.
 
Since premiering last May at the Cannes Film Festival, the film has generated significant buzz, maintaining a perfect 100% rating on Rotten Tomatoes across 90 reviews. Given the nature of its plot—particularly its focus on a submissive relationship—the film skillfully balances discomfort with relatability. While such dynamics exist in the real world, few films have captured them on a grand scale as effectively as Pillion. Its deliberate, unhurried pacing draws the viewer deeper into each moment, allowing the audience to intuit the characters’ inner lives without the film ever needing to state them outright.
 
The film’s structure closely recalls Jean-Luc Godard’s Breathless, particularly in its editing rhythms and the way information is withheld and revealed. Key information is deliberately omitted, only to resurface later in fuller detail, a choice that can reframe earlier moments upon rewatch. While this fragmentation can add new layers of meaning, it also risks withholding essential information that might have delivered an even stronger emotional impact. Still, these stylistic decisions create a sense of emotional reserve that mirrors the characters themselves. Skarsgård’s character is as fearful as Melling’s, even if his outward confidence suggests otherwise.

The characters and the world they inhabit are richly textured, with every scene feeling purposeful and deliberate. The cinematography captures the essence of what the characters see and feel, while the sound design reinforces the quiet, insular environment they occupy, deepening the film’s sense of immersion. The score is understated yet effective, becoming especially memorable in the moments when it does emerge. Key lines of dialogue resonate later in the film, gaining greater significance in retrospect. Ultimately, the film is at its strongest in its quietest moments.
 
Several plot threads linger without full exploration, particularly those involving Melling’s character and his family. The film effectively presents him as younger than his actual age, reinforced by the fact that he still lives with his parents. Their support is genuine, though tinged with an overprotectiveness that helps explain his desire to break free. While this dynamic is illuminating, the film largely steps away from his family in its latter half. By contrast, Skarsgård’s character is easy to understand on a surface level, yet the film similarly hesitates to delve deeper into his background, leaving aspects of his emotional makeup only partially explored.
 
By the end, the film may leave you wanting more—but that lingering sense of absence is precisely the point. Writer-director Harry Lighton presents love from every angle, offering a fresh and intimate perspective. Most viewers will recognize themselves in these two characters and the choices they make. While certain events may stretch plausibility, the emotional truth remains intact: the way people can lose themselves in relationships, and how those same connections can ultimately help them grow, change, and move toward something greater.

Pillion is in theaters February 6th!

Review by Adam Donato