I think I’m gonna die in this house…
Okay, so that is a little dramatic, but it also could not be a truer statement since 5:38 p.m. Sunday, March 1, when I walked out of AMC Tyngsboro a changed woman.
Now, these are also the lyrics of the debut song off the album paired with the blockbuster movie taking the world by storm. My dear readers, this is “Wuthering Heights,” a film by Emerald Fennell.
I had the absolute pleasure of seeing it this past weekend with my college roommate, Bella. Now, I know that I told you all to get out there and see it, and I never break a promise. I hope to be one of many who went out and saw the magic that hit the big screen.
As I have mentioned innumerable times before, this column is where I dish out the hot topics, things I deem important (hehe), and events trending around town and beyond. Hi, and welcome to my new readers. If there is ever something you would like to see covered, email me at lhanrahan@westfordcat.org. (Sidenote: I do not share my email to be polite. I am a professional yapper. PLEASE send me your thoughts, opinions, and ideas. I would love to hear them!) Fair warning: I consider this edition of Word on the Street a major headline.
I want to say that this film seems to be getting a lot of backlash, and I will be the first to say that I am NOT here for it and will head into battle for this adaptation at any given moment. Now, I will hold your hand while I tell you this… IT’S AN ADAPTATION! That is the beautiful thing about literature. It is taken and appreciated so differently by every single reader. How each person takes on the language, the lessons, the visuals, the heartache, and the dialogue becomes its own masterpiece. Fennell merely wrote a script based on the feeling of reading that book as a 14-year-old girl.
I have some mild points I would love to make that WILL spoil the film, so if you HAVE NOT seen the movie and intend to, just skip to the “It is all.” paragraph where I gush about the costumes and such. There seems to be an issue where we take art so literally. We expect it to be word-for-word how it was written. That simply is not the case.
I appreciate how Fennell almost pokes fun at how society will view and opinionize the film before even seeing it. For example, this is not a steamy romance novel turned into an even more jaw-dropping sexual awakening of a movie. Yet, by casting appealing A-list celebrities as the main characters, we lose sight of the true message and the essence of what is being shown in front of us. We walk in expecting glamour, romance, and fantasy instead of tragedy, obsession, and decay.
I love how this is demonstrated right from the beginning. As we cut to the opening scene, which is a hanging, two young boys point out a vulgar detail of the victim dangling from the gallows, merely mirroring and describing us as an audience in the present day. We are seeing something rather awful and heartbreaking, yet we cling to the lustful matters of it all. Is that really what matters here? Or is it more? It is the same with those boys, who are in town to watch a man lose his life, not to mock what his anatomy does.
It is all smoke and mirrors to the deeper meaning, which Fennell executes brilliantly. The costume, the symbolism, the stage, the setting, the dialogue. I truly will never recover from what I have seen. I have not stopped texting everyone about this movie, including Bella. We have both moved on to reading the book.
Now, do not worry, there are plenty of moments that make you think about that person you maybe should not, or the person you love so very much, or the one that got away. But what matters to me about a movie is whether it left you thinking and, excuse my language, but WHAT THE HONEYCOMB. I could not stop thinking and analyzing the small things and the big things. What could it have meant for the bigger plot?
To me, that is the beauty of cinema like this. That is the beauty of art like this. There is no right or wrong. No good or bad. Just interpretation.
And mine, dear Westford, is this. Break the chains of love. See this damn movie.
