The new film adaptation ofWuthering Heightshas ignited a fierce debate, and it centers on a single, pivotal choice: the casting of Jacob Elordi as Heathcliff. The controversy isn’t about a simple misstep; it’s a clash over interpretation, representation, and the very soul of Emily Brontë’s iconic novel.
For director Emerald Fennell, the decision was deeply personal. She sought to recapture the visceral impact the book had on her as a teenager – a feeling she described as “primal, sexual.” Elordi, she stated, simply *was* Heathcliff, mirroring the illustration from her first edition. But critics argue this intensely personal vision may have come at a significant cost, potentially erasing a crucial element of the character and denying opportunities to actors of color.
Brontë’s text is riddled with descriptions that mark Heathcliff as distinctly *other*. He’s not presented as simply English; he’s a “dark-skinned gipsy,” a “dirty, ragged, black-haired child” found on the streets of Liverpool, a “Lascar” or “Spanish castaway.” These aren’t definitive racial classifications, but collectively, they paint a picture of someone outside the bounds of accepted white society.
Experts weigh in with varying perspectives. Dr. Jenni Ramone, a professor of Postcolonial Literature, believes the details strongly suggest Heathcliff is likely Black or mixed race, particularly given Liverpool’s history as a major slave-trading port. The question of whether he had an “owner,” in that context, carries a chilling weight.
Dr. Kadian Pow, a Lecturer in Black Studies, emphasizes the deliberate ambiguity in Brontë’s writing. For a white female author to leave Heathcliff’s heritage undefined, she argues, is integral to establishing his “otherness.” Casting a white actor, therefore, isn’t a neutral act, especially considering the limited opportunities for people of color in period dramas.
Andrew Washington, founder of the film site On the Reel, calls the casting “egregious,” asserting that Heathcliff’s appearance is fundamentally tied to his conflict. While color-blind casting can be effective, it’s inappropriate here, as Heathcliff’s “dark skin” and “black hair” are defining characteristics. He suggests Elordi isn’t even a dark-skinned white man, a decision that feels disrespectful to Black actors.
It’s crucial to remember this isn’t unprecedented. In 2011, Andrea Arnold’s adaptation broke ground by casting James Howson, the first Black actor to portray Heathcliff on screen. More recently, an Audible drama featured Daryl McCormack, a mixed-race actor, in the role, exploring the character’s complex backstory.
However, some scholars defend Fennell’s choice, pointing to the ambiguity inherent in Brontë’s text. Professor Serena Trowbridge notes that Brontë never explicitly defines Heathcliff’s race, leaving room for interpretation. Dr. Ella Dzelzainis adds that he could be Irish, Spanish, or even a fugitive slave – the imprecision offering filmmakers creative freedom.
A deeper historical question arises: could a visibly Black Heathcliff realistically navigate 18th-century English society and amass wealth without the novel directly confronting the pervasive racism of the era? Some argue that portraying him as fully Black without addressing these structures risks minimizing the dangers he would have faced.
Ultimately, the debate isn’t simply about race; it’s about the responsibility of adaptation. How much should a filmmaker honor the source material’s political implications, and how much artistic license is permissible? Fennell is entitled to her vision, and the novel’s ambiguity offers some justification for her choice.
ButWuthering Heightsisn’t a racially neutral text. The repeated references to “dark-skinned,” “gipsy,” and “castaway” imbue Heathcliff’s identity with racial meaning, however subtle. Perhaps the greatest loss is the missed opportunity to create a powerful leading role for an actor of color and to explore the character’s “otherness” with greater depth and nuance.
The enduring passion of this debate reveals a fundamental truth: Heathcliff’s “darkness” has always been more than just Gothic atmosphere. It’s inextricably linked to power, belonging, and exclusion – tensions that remain profoundly relevant nearly two centuries later.
