Like a newborn baby fresh to the earth, I am completely oblivious to the world of Wuthering Heights. I was deemed not clever enough to study English Literature at school, so I missed out on reading the book and, perhaps more to my sins, I’ve never actually seen any of the film adaptations before Emerald Fennell’s latest iteration. Based on this version alone, I can’t say I’m blown away or that I feel I’ve missed out on anything at all, which may be the most damning criticism I can give. Especially when you consider the original novel is widely regarded as a Brontë masterpiece, the shortcomings feel very much like they belong to this adaptation.

Given all of its controversy, this version of “Wuthering Heights” should come as no surprise. From the little that I do know about the story, it hasn’t stayed very true to the source material. It still focuses on Cathy Earnshaw (Margot Robbie) and Heathcliff (Jacob Elordi) and their tumultuous romance, but anyone remotely familiar with director and writer Emerald Fennell’s previous work should know it was never going to be a faithful adaptation. Instead, she attempts to make “Wuthering Heights” a bit more sexy and raunchy. But unlike her earlier films, which have been bold and very out there, this movie feels extremely timid and underwhelming in comparison, and ultimately fairly bland.

On paper, Margot Robbie and Jacob Elordi should be a match made in heaven for these roles, but whether it’s the lacklustre script or their chemistry, I couldn’t help thinking throughout, is this romance really believable? For what is considered one of the best love stories of all time, that really isn’t a question I should have been asking myself, and not even the overlong kissing montage could save it. In fact, the only time I truly believed in their relationship was during childhood and that was largely down to Owen Cooper and Charlotte Mellington, who are excellent as the younger Heathcliff and Cathy.

The problem also lies with the characters themselves, who are both, to put it politely, quite frankly insufferable. Their toxic behaviour towards anyone around them is extremely jarring and by the end I was actively rooting for their relationship to work simply because they deserved one another. Given there’s an overwhelming sense that Fennell is trying to evoke emotion from the audience, I don’t think that’s the emotion I was meant to feel.

One thing I expected to love but came away scratching my head at was the costumes. Each of the dresses Margot Robbie wears is more ghastly than the last, with one plastic looking outfit audibly receiving laughs in the packed cinema I was in. But for me, the most egregious moment was making Cathy look like Little Red Riding Hood as she trudged home one Christmas.

That being said, “Wuthering Heights” is, technically, sensational for the most part. Visually it is one of the most gorgeous films I have seen in years. Cinematographer Linus Sandgren has outdone himself with countless jaw dropping shots that I would happily sit through the rest of the film again just to see. The same can be said for the set design, which is impeccable throughout, capturing the aesthetic fantastically well and transporting audiences back in time.

And while I didn’t necessarily enjoy the lead performances, the supporting cast are a joy to behold. Martin Clunes as Cathy’s father Mr Earnshaw commands every scene he’s in. Alison Oliver as Isabella, a young and naïve girl, gives perhaps the most believable performance, with her lust for Heathcliff the only adult romance I was invested in. Even Hong Chau as Nelly, a long time companion of Cathy, is quietly devastating throughout.

But with all that technical excellence, Emerald Fennell’s version of a great love story feels streamlined in a way that ultimately fails to be audacious, lacking the substance needed to create any real emotional payoff. While it looks absolutely astounding, that’s probably the only thing this version of “Wuthering Heights” will be remembered for. That and the terrible marketing campaign.