It's rare that I don't know where to start when it comes to writing a movie review, but there's a first time for everything. I'll just give the bad news to you straight: like a vet's trip to get your old pet put down, "Wuthering Heights" is about as spicy as a plain meal at Nando's, and as basic as the restaurant choice.
But we knew this going into it, didn't we? We've had the collective debate about the death of modern literacy, the outrage about the casting choices and Emerald Fennell's outright refusal to include the Emily Brontë novel's original themes of race and colonialism. They're all necessary conversations and causes for concern, and I agree with them.
