I have read Wuthering Heights, and fallen in love with it; this is the first (and only) movie version of it I've had the opportunity to watch so far, and, sadly, I cannot say I'm satisfied.

The directing is mediocre at best, with awkward results altogether, and the film overall fails miserably at both conveying the overwhelming, passionate emotion the written masterpiece is practically based upon and, despite all obvious efforts, achieve its ethereal darkness and cruelty. The story does not flow naturally (or, rather, it's too rushed), and, as can be expected from any movie adaptation, there are plenty of plot cuts to drive any fan of the original novel mad. This last aspect, however, could be easily excused, were the former absent; however, they are not.

As for the acting, I always imagined Juliette Binoche had a lot of potential to make a good Catherine, and was deeply disappointed to find it was not, by any means, fully explored. Indeed, Binoche's Cathy is not half as wild, passionate and crazy as she could and should have been -- instead, she remains pretty much the same throughout the movie: so emotionless that, eventually, it becomes annoying and frustrating; certainly, a great enough part of her strong personality is there, but many other aspects of her complex character were more or less neglected. While Ralph Fiennes makes a decent Heathcliff, and a handsome, tortured one at that, with an already expected climax in the scene immediately after Catherine dies (where else, right?), I still can't forgive the producers for a certain detail in his countenance: surely, he had a gorgeous, piercing -- sometimes verging on mad -- pair of blue eyes, but, as anybody who's read the novel will know, they should, even for symbolical reasons, have been black; furthermore, his portrayal shares some of the female lead's faults, including, sadly, an inexcusable lack of emotion and expressiveness throughout most of the film. The supporting cast was tolerable; then again, most secondary characters had so little screen time that I can hardly judge (character development was practically nonexistent in this movie; I wonder whatever happened to Edgar's likable, tender ways, or his special relationship with his daughter: two examples among the many aspects that were either neglected or badly mistreated in this adaptation). Ellen Dean and Joseph looked a lot different from what I expected, but that's a merely personal opinion, and therefore doesn't count.

Most people acclaim the film's soundtrack; it did have its good moments, particularly after Catherine's death, but I didn't find it astounding in any way. In fact, I think the movie is somewhat lacking in the sound department, which is one of the factors that makes it so weak emotionally, since the acting doesn't make up for it.

From the awkward way the story is told, to the plot holes, to all the aforementioned flaws, I was, all in all, disappointed in this film. The title of this comment may, however, have come out a little harsher than I intended it to: Emily Brontë's Wuthering Heights is still a viewable (and, at times, enjoyable) movie, for both readers and non-readers; although the former may (or may not) be more or less unsatisfied with it, depending mostly on their take on the novel and how fond they are of it, and the latter are likely to find themselves lost a little too often, since very little is explained concerning the plot (in short, it's not made clear how the characters come to feel the way they do at virtually any time), making it difficult to follow and enjoy. It is not, in any way, an insult to its written counterpart, and takes good advantage of most of its best quotes, but surely doesn't come anywhere near its greatness and intensity.

In conclusion, while I don't regret viewing the film, I'm strongly convinced I won't be going out of my way to watch any other movie version of this classic ever again.

This is an unfairly maligned adaptation. True, if you judge it against more famous adaptations (e.g. the 1939 version), the first half of the film feels inadequate. However if you hold on in there, you'll get the second half of the book, revealing a plethora of themes Emily Bronte was exploring that are non-existent in the other films and revealing the novel's dark cruelty. Why previous adaptors chose to turn the film into a simple love story can be put down to sexism; had it been written by a man, the filmmakers would accept the brutal aspects of the book but of course a Victorian woman could never write such shocking things. For those who only know the story from previous adaptations or the brilliant Kate Bush song, it is a saga of hatred. Being rejected by his childhood love/adopted sister/soulmate Cathy Earnshaw (Juliette Binoche) when she chooses to marry prim Edgar Linton (Simon Shepard). Heathcliff vows vengeance on the Lintons by marrying Edgar's sister Isabella (Sophie Ward) and then also torturing Cathy and Edgar's daughter, Catherine Linton (Juliette Binoche- again!).

The film's mistake is that it is too tentative in the first half. Director Peter Kosminsky still wanted to give viewers the conventional love story that they knew and loved so he made the first half quite gentle in order to mitigate the darker second half. Unfortunately it means that Cathy and Heathcliff's relationship is not tempestuous enough. The famous declarations- "I AM Heathcliff", "I cannot live without my soul"- are spoken quietly and demurely.

Others have mentioned Binoche's excessive giggling, which doesn't convince me that she's seventeen but rather that she's under the influence. The criticisms of her accent is unfair; she has a clear French twang but it's hardly up there in the Hall of Bad Movie Accents. Fiennes' Yorkshire accent is far worse, sounding as if he'd learnt it through watching Postman Pat episodes. His initial niceness is overdone; Heathcliff is a gentle nature-loving soul who we cannot imagine why anyone would be so mean as to beat him as his adoptive brother Hindley (Jeremy Northam) does. Binoche is far too girlish as Cathy, who is essentially a tomboy and whose wild nature makes her identify with Heathcliff.

Things only really get going when Heathcliff returns, allowing Fiennes to drop the awful accent. Kosminsky keeps the novel's framed narrative, with tenant Mr Lockwood arriving at Wuthering Heights and meeting Heathcliff and Cathy II, who he mistakes to be Heathcliff's wife. If you are unfamiliar with the novel, it may be best to locate a family tree as a handy guide. Don't worry though; Emily Bronte meant the family tree to be messy and confusing. That is why I think the double-roling of Binoche as mother and daughter works. It shows how Heathcliff sees Cathy everywhere and adds a perverse sexual tension as well. Binoche is much better as the daughter and Fiennes is stronger as older Heathcliff.

One of the good things about the adaptation is its fidelity to the novel. Using much of the novel's original dialogue, we get a truer picture of Heathcliff's cruelty. It is hard to argue that Heathcliff isn't really that bad when he beats his wife, calls her an 'abject thing' and says she 'degenerates into a mere slut'. Fiennes refreshingly doesn't try to make Heathcliff sympathetic or gloss over his actions; rather he plays a torturer who is tired of tormenting yet unable to stop himself. Heathcliff could have left the second generation alone but instead he punishes them and plays with them like chess pieces.

Whilst I do like the perversely seductive evil of Fiennes' interpretation (his performance here is what got him the role of Amon Goth in Schindler's List), like Olivier he is a little too refined to play early Heathcliff. We can never really buy him as savage; in the book, he is characterised almost like a creature rather than a human. This is why to an extent readers pity him. However Fiennes' Heathcliff is suavely evil.

The inclusion of the second half of the novel is really what recommends this film and why fans of the novel should put it top of their list of adaptations to see. Bronte did not include the main characters' children to be cute or to drag out the story. It gives the story more impact, making the film a saga of one man's bitterness rather than a doomed love story. The film keeps the wonderfully atmospheric ending of the novel and shows through the second generation that the conflict may be resolved and that the things dividing Cathy and Heathcliff will not divide this second generation. Other film adaptations ignore this small ray of optimism and hence the novel is remembered as a big misery fest. First timers to the story may find themselves lost; Wuthering Heights is an odd tale even in the generic film adaptations. The relevance of the second half may not be instantly apparent to them and will certainly be confusing if they come to it with preconceptions of the story. However a re-watch brings new subtleties and nuances that aren't present in the other film adaptations (bar elements of the dreadfully dull 2011 version).

Ironically in order to see the true nature of the story, you have to watch two flawed films (1992 and 2011). One day someone will get it right- hopefully the 1992 film has opened up doors for future films to tackle both generations.

It was with some trepidation that I sat to view a film version of 'Wuthering Heights' (made in 1992), especially one that called itself 'Emily Bronte's Wuthering Heights'. Such titles from Hollywood are by norm the outcomes of copyright wrangles with little intention if any of actually paying homage to the original source, and more likely to defile their memory. This is, I warn you an unqualified review since I have read only a small part of the book (I'd started on it but it seemed too dark and insane to read en route to work, I promise I'll get back to it), but I'll say one thing: I've seen a very good film.

As expected the story essentially deals with the doomed romance between Heathcliff and his foster sister Cathy and the trail of human destruction wreaked by the former when he feels that the world has cheated him of his companion. The film is shot in close communion with the elements of nature that help to accentuate the raw passions that fuel its narrative. Color is an integral part of the screenplay, be it the warm hue of sunshine that plays on Cathy's innocent countenance in happier moments or the sepulchral black outfit that is Heathcliff's identity in the stormy sections. Music (Ryuichi Sakamoto) flows like a moor wind segueing through the various parts of the film, returning periodically to its distinctive title theme.

This is in no way your standard Hollywood costume romance and no small measure of the credit goes to the actors. Juliette Binoche (Cathy Earnshaw/Catherine Linton) is the pearl of the casting and as the object of Heathcliff's obsessions she is almost a justification for his vengeful acts. Her performance is this simmering pot of innocent charm and searing passion and it is difficult to come out of this film without being utterly touched by her delicate, yet compelling air. Ralph Fiennes' Heathcliff seemed a bit stiff in the opening scenes but picks up steam quickly (warmed, I assume by Cathy's love) and is stunningly savage when the film rushes headlong into its darker sections, reviving the memory of those qualities that made us wake up to his Amon Goeth (Schindler's List).

The film contrary to expectations does not flinch away from the more cruel aspects of the story (although whether to the novel's extent I cannot say). Heathcliff is not at any point of the plot a nice man to know, and the more we know him the less we like of him. He is an animal that stops at nothing to get what he wants and destroy what he can't get.

There are flaws, yes. The parts dealing with their youth seem glossed over and less credible. The Bible-reading Joseph is a mere comic cameo and Hindley Earnshaw not as spiteful as he seemed of what I'd read in the novel. Hareton (Hindley's son), a Heathcliff clone to match Cathy's daughter Catherine, appears to have been played by a magna cum laude of the Charlie Sheen School of Acting for the Bewildered. The character of Lockwood (whose entry into Wuthering Heights commences the novel) is dealt with carelessly and could have been altogether dropped from the narrative. The climax seems a letdown (Heathcliff shown to join the spirit of Cathy in a brightly lit unknown after-abode) and rather abrupt, but better abrupt than tediously drawn out. For God-knows-what reason, the plot is revealed as a narration by a hooded monk-type played by Skinhead O' Connor (restricted, thankfully, to the opening and closing sections of the film).

Still the good parts of this film far outshine its failings and I hope that those who have read the complete novel will be able to agree that this is one amongst few films based on a classic book that can be watched without cringing in embarassment.