I’ll start this with two thoughts I had at what I thought was the midpoint of the film (but was actually the 1/16th point of the film):

1. I need to reread Wuthering Heights.

2. I wish I were watching a Catherine Breillat movie.

As Fennell’s “adaptation” progressed, and I hit various poses of distress every five minutes, I began to wonder if I was actually insane. It had been a few years since I had revisited Emily Brontë’s novel - and I really started to gaslight myself into thinking I had misremembered everything. When I was finally released from the longest 2 hours and 16 minutes of my life, I immediately spent the following hours rereading the source material. Brontë’s character building and intense attention to emotional detail was a palette cleanser for sure; this brief reprieve, however, ultimately stoked immense bitterness I feel towards Emerald Fennell.

Okay, yes, I am being a little dramatic here. And I can admit when I get got, so yeah, Emerald, congrats, you successfully rage baited me. You should feel so super proud of yourself, you sly little fox.

Anyways… I obviously did not go into “Wuthering Heights” with the expectations of it being a faithful or meaningful reimaging. How could we have possibly deduced this without the quotation marks?? I expected to probably hate it, but was open to feeling neutral about it. To be honest, I was moderately surprised by the borderline competency of the film’s first fifteen minutes. Yeah, opening your film with a sexualized hanging is a little eye-roll-inducing. Howeverrrr, I foolishly believed that maybe maybe possibly possibly maybe we could get a little Ken Russell up in here. Of course, the classic Emerald Fennell sucking her own toes ensued instead.

If we are to set aside the Jacob Elordi-sized elephant in the room, I can somewhat narrow my criticism of “Wuthering Heights” down to Fennell’s clear disdain, and even hatred, for Brontë’s characters. In a recent interview with Vanity Fair, Fennell describes Heathcliff as “one of the least likable characters in literature” and Cathy as “extremely unlikable.” She also states that the only reason anyone would care about Heathcliff is that he wants to be better (otherwise, he would be irredeemable). It is certainly true that Heathcliff is a complicated and troubling character, whose actions are in some sense damning. BUT - by choosing to “adapt” only the first half of the novel, much of Heathcliff’s violence and abuse is inherently cut out. (I will circle back to his treatment of Isabella*)

Now, if we reintroduce the Jacob Elordi-sized elephant in the room, Fennell’s perspective on Heathcliff and his “irredeemable” actions clearly excludes the context of extreme sociopolitical oppression that tormented Heathcliff his entire life. I don’t want to get into this too much because I know this discourse has gone round and round. I do have to say that it is utterly ridiculous to completely erase the racial identity that is deeply intertwined with all of Heathcliff’s struggles. He is so, so much more than just some brooding guy with emotional issues. He is literally traumatized from years of childhood physical and emotional abuse from “family” and “friends” that view him as disposable because he is not white. Emerald Fennell’s inability to empathize with a teenager harmed by circumstances they had no say in is truly laughable. Obviously, Emily Brontë’s portrayal of racism in the novel is flawed. Yet, Emily Brontë (in 1845) was able to capture the individual nuances and lasting effects of a society tyrannically dominated by the white male elite better than Emerald Fennell (in big 2026).

Also, interesting that Fennell perceives the infamously grudge-holding Heathcliff as “wanting to be better.” In his teenage years, he does not “want to be better,” he wants to be white so he can be viewed as an actual human being (and acceptable suitor for Cathy). I don’t know how you can read “I wish I had light hair and fair skin” and not understand that. I mean, understanding here is the bare minimum; that sentiment is clearly heartbreaking in itself. Funny that Fennell inverts the racial identities of Heathcliff and Edgar, given that Cathy chooses Edward because he has blue eyes, blonde hair, and, therefore, status is pretty important. Interesting to randomly switch Isabella’s character to a ward, instead of Edgar’s sister. Because a woman of color as Edgar’s sister would mean that a woman of color would be the other “love interest” for white Heathcliff… and that just wouldn’t do right? (blah blah this is speculation, alright speculation….) But, ok, Emerald, add a little more Gone with the Wind imagery, please, we need that.

I could be on this forever, but I have to move on.

In reference to Cathy, Emerald states that Cathy doesn’t want to be better - because she already thinks she’s the best and “that’s why we love her.” Not sure who the “we” is in that statement. Cathy is in many ways a selfish brat, but she is also a teenager. I wouldn’t argue that all of her cruelty is due to her wild naivety or is unintentional. She is manipulative and intelligent, often using her privilege to harm Heathcliff (and Nelly). However, it is impossible to ignore that Cathy, Heathcliff, Edgar, and Isabella are all meant to be teenagers in the middle of messy romantic beef. In the novel, their actions are reflective of that. Why Emerald Fennell made the choice to age everyone up and maintain their childish attitudes with no other personality traits… who knows… The film makes it incredibly difficult to even interact with Cathy as a character. She is washed of mischievous, adolescent charm and desire that allows Brontë’s Cathy to be relatable, despite her flaws. “Wuthering Heights” portrays Cathy as a Queen of Hearts adjacent mega-bitch going through puberty at age 35. I guess since this is meant to be Fennell’s 14-year-old wet dream directed by a 40-year-old, it would be a little weird to sexualize teenagers in the same way.

This brings us to the eternal question of why Emerald Fennell didn’t simply direct an entirely separate movie and say it was inspired by Wuthering Heights……. again, who fuckin knows. It’s a shame that Emerald is a hack who thinks being provocative just means sex. There is so much beauty in the restrained yearning of Cathy and Heathcliff. The complication comes from the fact that they are just starting to discover their desires and learning how to express them (or not to). Reducing the emotional intimacy of Cathy and Heathcliff’s relationship to music video soft porn slop is just so offensive, I can’t even begin. As I said earlier, one of my initial thoughts was that I wished I were watching a Catherine Breillat movie. Funny enough, Fennell cited Breillat’s Romance and Bluebeard as inspiration for “Wuthering Heights.” (This is my opinion; I know people will likely disagree.) Breillat is a master of tackling sexual taboos and relationships; she does not wash her characters of agency or meaning simply to be shocking. While Breillat’s films are viewed as provocative, there is also an abundance of subtlety and empathy that allows us to connect with her work beyond its rigidity.

Speaking of empathy (or lack thereof), Fennell’s treatment of Isabella had me almost walking out of the theater in rage. I haven’t been going into the plot of the novel for the sake of brevity, but this is too important to me. Brief summary of Isabella’s arc in the novel:

• She is Edgar’s younger sister, grows up adjacent to Cathy and Heathcliff (by way of Edgar). She’s characterized as innocent and childish.

• Fast forward to after Cathy and Edgar are married & hot, rich Heathcliff comes back - Isabella tells Cathy she has a fat crush on him. Cathy gets pissy, and Isabella clocks her for being jealous. Cathy embarrasses Isabella and tells Heathcliff about Isabella’s crush.

• Cathy and Heathcliff drama blah blah … Heathcliff marries Isabella as revenge against both Edgar (for being racist and marrying Cathy) and Cathy (for obvious reasons). Isabella goes off to Wuthering Heights with Heathcliff. But he hangs her dog before they go.

• 2 months later (ish) - Isabella writes letters to her brother and Nelly begging for help as Heathcliff has been physically and emotionally abusing her intensely. Everyone at Wuthering Heights is cruel to her. Edgar ignores his sister.

• Heathcliff is incredibly incredibly cruel to Isabella for an unknown period of time; she tries to escape but fails and is too scared to try to escape again.

• Eventually, after Cathy’s death, Isabella escapes Wuthering Heights and moves to somewhere around London.

• She gives birth to a son and raises him; she eventually dies when he is a pre-teen (ish).

Okay… given all this information… how does “Wuthering Heights” portray Isabella? As the comedic relief character. Genuinely, the punch line of almost every joke in this movie. Oh, and Heathcliff “seduces” her into “consenting” to his revenge plot relationship. Cause that’s super hot and sexy, right? Furthermore, Heathcliff is actually not abusive. Actually, Isabella is super into it…. It’s actually a super consensual and funny relationship where he ties her up, and she acts like a dog. That’s really funny. And that’s all she is.

For me, Isabella is by far the most tragic character of Emily Brontë’s novel. While she should be just starting her life as a young woman, her emotions are used as a pawn in a game she has no say in. Heathcliff preys on Isabella’s innocence, manipulates her into a relationship, and nonsensically punishes her for not being Cathy. He also views Isabella as a physical representation of privilege and a life he was deprived of. Heathcliff continues the cycle of abuse as revenge for wrongdoings that Isabella had no direct part in. And no one helps her. Not even her brother will give up his pride. Despite the suffering inflicted upon her, Isabella is incredibly strong. It’s vital to the story that Emily Brontë (in 1845) wrote Isabella to be a survivor. While Heathcliff’s emotional and physical abuse is explicit, his sexual abuse is implied in Isabella’s pregnancy. It leaves a very bad taste in my mouth to strip Isabella of her narrative and turn her into a kinky punchline (in 2026).

It really does upset me that Emerald Fennell’s film will be many young audiences’ first introduction to Wuthering Heights. I hope people who haven’t read the novel will be inspired to, but I kind of doubt that. The story that Fennell presents is generic and aimless, spruced up with intervals of aesthetic music videos every ten minutes. If one is to believe that is what all of Wuthering Heights is, why would anyone want to read that? I know Emerald Fennell loves to be a cutesy little provocateur, and I hate actually engaging in this discourse - but I fear it really is that serious. You can’t bastardize the name of a novel that was pivotal in its critiques of societal class and oppression because you are too unskilled to have any nuance as a creative. Write your own bullshit unnamed rip-off slop again (re: Saltburn and The Talented Mr. Ripley). Or put the damn pen down and go do a photography series.

UGH. OK. There honestly was so much more I wanted to say - I didn’t even get to Nelly. But if you read this far, thanks and much love! xx

For the last few years, hearing the rumbles of Ari Aster’s “contemporary western, COVID movie” did absolutely nothing to pique my interest. Not necessarily because I dislike Aster with the fervor that some do, I just felt a general sense of ambivalence. What did spark my interest in Eddington, however, was the use of David Wojnarowicz’s Buffalos in one of the official posters. The black and white photograph portrays a diorama, from the National Museum of American History, of a traditional Native American bison hunting technique. Wojnarowicz’s intentional tight framing escalates the tension of the diorama: the bison are frozen in a moment between life and death. The context of the heightening AIDS crisis and Wojnarowicz’s own diagnosis is essential to the reading of this image. On one level, David positions himself as the buffalo falling towards its inevitable death. There are many others before him and after that would face the same fate. The bison simultaneously represent the state of American society, herds running rapidly to their demise. Wojnarowicz points to the misinformation and bigotry surrounding HIV/AIDS as a symptom of deeply damaged sociopolitical system that would continue to fail the American people (despite many believing otherwise). This is, of course, how Buffalos connects to Eddington. Aster’s film centers itself around the panic of the COVID-19 pandemic - how it catalytically exposed the division, hatred, and potential for violence that had been (seemingly) simmering in the American communities.

Taken from Wojnarowicz’s memoir, Close to the Knives, these words capture the anxieties and intended themes of Eddington. The expansive desert that fictional town of Eddington, New Mexico serves as physical barrier between the townspeople and other coalesced American cities. As Wojnarowicz described, the New Mexican desert is both beautiful and eerily isolating in its nature. The outwardly impenetrable, barren landscape, however, is not enough to protect the people of Eddington from disease or the widespread web of modern media. Eddington seems to be occupied entirely by archetypal characters: the set in his ways conservative cop (Phoenix), charismatic liberal politician (Pascal), vaguely traumatized wife (Stone), overbearing mother figure (O’Connell), rebellious teenager (Garcia) & co, etc. etc. etc. The layout of the town itself is as generic and mundane as the community - just your average American small town with average American people. In a way, the blank slate essence of Eddington’s setting is reminiscent of Lars von Trier’s Dogville or Thornton Wilder’s Our Town. Ari Aster, however, certainly does not adhere to the otherwise minimalist and abstracted aspects of these works.

Being only a few years removed from 2020, it is certainly difficult to watch Eddington and not feel frustration. Much of this frustration stems from individual emotional turmoil as the film forces the audience to sit in the discomfort of our collective memories. To varying degrees, we are all still feeling the physical, mental, and social repercussions of the virus in our every day lives. The mainstream drama, per se, around Eddington boils down to the dichotomy between its satirical tone and the severity of the real life events depicted. It may be easy to chuckle at an overwrought argument about wearing masks; it’s less easy (for most lol) to laugh at the jabs at performative activism that you likely took part in. It feels like a personal attack and the rage baiting is successful (more on this later). Furthermore, Aster does not waste time telling us who is “good” or “bad” and refuses to entertain nitty-gritty nuances. He essentially operates only in generalizations. All of these aspects make Eddington challenging to interact with, which leads to the frustration.

In the past weeks, a common criticism I’ve seen (and indulged in to some extent) is that Aster’s Reddit-esque dramatic retelling of the events of 2020 ultimately comes to no central, poignant point. And it doesn’t. It does not come to a point at all. Listen, I’m not gonna sit here and be the person to say, “the point is that there is no point” (How many times can I say the word point). In all honesty, I walked out of Eddington annoyed and thinking, “yeah okay whatever man lol.” I thought I would grow to dislike the film more the longer that I thought about it. Surprisingly, this has not been the case. To be clear - I don’t love the movie (my actual opinion is a little further down). BUT I have come to realize that Eddington is exactly what it presents itself to be. It’s a snapshot of a moment of time, framing familiar images and scenes in a slightly altered context. Whether that’s necessary or not, who’s to say. Aster does not strongly insert his world views into Eddington because he doesn’t need to. It should be clear that one “side” is worse than the other without him needing to say that to you directly. The film isn’t “both sides are bad”-ing simply by pointing out hypocrisies in liberal ideologies and practices. Essentially, Eddington asks: Is it worse to be lonely, hateful, ignorant, and violent OR sometimes annoying and hypocritical? So yeah, I don’t think anyone should be expecting some great leftist message in this. I don’t really think Ari Aster was ever the person to go to for that sort of thing anyways.

A year before his death, David went on a final roadtrip across the American West, accompanied by his friend and collaborator Marion Scemama. This self portrait, taken in Chaco Canyon, New Mexico, was staged in a way that David appears to be lying in shallow grave. The sand nearly reaches his nose and mouth - waiting to pull his entire body into the earth. Face in Dirt exists as Wojnarowicz’s last photo and emphasizes the question: What is he being buried by? The obvious answer to this would be that the sand covering David is a metaphor for the virus that was actively consuming his body. On paper, his cause of death is AIDS. What truly lead Wojnarowicz (and innumerous others) to an early grave was the negligence of the American government and willful ignorance of its people.

Eddington is at its best when focused on the sociopolitical death of America through the lens of its protagonist, Joe Cross (Phoenix). Though Joe seems to be your average middle aged, old school conservative, there is an unsettling paranoia and insecurity in him that’s evident from the inception of the film. The looming presence of COVID and change in Eddington’s political dynamics stoke Joe’s growing emotional instability. From Joe’s perspective, the people of Eddington have always been on the same page and always had each other’s backs. Any challenge to the “status quo,” therefore, is turned into a personal attack on Joe and, perhaps more importantly, on his authority.

In Close to the Knives, Wojnarowicz describes the fiction of American unity: “We are born into a preinvented existence within a tribal nation of zombies and in that illusion of a one-tribe nation there are real tribes.” The illusion of a one-tribe nation was certainly more true in the 1980s than it is in current society; however, the principle of it is applicable to the ambiguous and largely homogeneous population of Eddington. Joe Cross yearns to maintain the state of existence that is comfortable for him, that he can control. But he is not in control and never has been. Even if we disregard his clear incompetence as a sheriff, he is still at the hands of larger governance - a hard pill to swallow when it comes to COVID.

Joe’s lack of control extends into his personal life as well; his marriage with the clearly emotionally traumatized Louise (Stone) is more than fraying at the seams. His inability to connect with his wife on an emotional or physical level emasculates Joe and intensifies his insecurities. It doesn’t help that Mayor Ted Garcia (Pascal), who is already a threat to Joe’s authority in Eddington, had former “romantic” relations with Louise. Honestly, one of my largest issues (or maybe disappointments is a better word) with Eddington is the abandonment of Louise’s storyline. I felt there were so many interesting themes to be explored in the couple’s chaotic relationship; emasculation leading to redpill ideologies and political groupthink exploitation of unresolved trauma are just the tip of the iceberg.

By a pretty far amount, my favorite scene in the film is when Vernon Jefferson Peak (Butler) crashes the dinner Joe had planned for him and Louise. The cynical humor and dramatic tension are balanced best at these moments, in the more mundanely bizarre situations. I just really enjoyed the little bits of Joe and Louise’s dynamic that we got to see, maybe because my general taste favors films that explore doomed and damaging relationships (lolll). That being said, I understand Aster’s decision to let Louise’s storyline fade into the background. Her absence emphasizes how Joe’s ignorance and lack of emotional intelligence not only leave him alone but also drive others he (likely) cared about to a similar fate. I just don’t completely agree with his decision… anyways that’s my opinion.

The dangers of media manipulation weigh heavily on both Wojnarowicz’s works and Eddington. Because Eddington is filtered through Joe’s perspective, the first ideas of being manipulated by media are propagated by far-right paranoia and conspiracies. The film definitely does a good job replicating the endless slop and misinformation floating around social media in 2020. It’s not surprising to anyone that Joe falls victim to the grifter falsities that specifically targets his insecurities. In terms of his brief mayoral campaign, Joe’s fundamental misunderstanding of how to actually manipulate media in his favor (instead of being manipulated) is quite funny. He’s probably your distant uncle who’s posting AI generated images of the Statue of Liberty crying on Facebook.

Media manipulation is obviously not exclusive to the average conservative or far-right grifters. Anyone can be manipulated by the charismatic liberal politicians, like Mayor Garcia, who pretend to be your friend. Garcia runs a somewhat ridiculously pandering re-election, however, it’s honestly not that far off from the corny ads we have seen from democratic politicians in recent years. Even if their social media posts are #relatable or sooo brat, they are not your friends. They will undoubtedly sell out to techno fascists that will destroy our well-being and environment and/or send our money to aid countries in mass killing children. ETC ETC ETC…

Okay okay, finally I will get to the topic of the protesters. Obviously, Aster chooses to frame the Eddington BLM protesters as one-note, hypocritical teenagers because they are simply archetypes, like every other character in the film. We are seeing them through Joe’s perspective, and the average 2020 white conservative perspective, biased by irrational paranoia and annoyance. Joe views no actual basis to their actions - they are all just whiny privileged kids. Beyond the irrational conservative fear of the BLM movement, Aster clearly makes a very valid point about performative activism and taking over spaces that were never meant for you. Not everyone protesting in 2020 were entitled and generally unaware white college kids but a good amount of them were. Some people do not engage in political activism in good faith, especially when it becomes commodified by social media. The activism is lost when people post because other people posting about something and don’t think about intention or impact (i.e. just posting a black square on your Instagram lol).

My issue with this plot line is not the way Aster portrayed the protestors or the fact that he was pointing out liberal hypocrisies. I just think it didn’t need to take up as large of a portion of the movie as it actually did. There are some comedic points that land, like the white girl screaming at Michael that he should be with them (the predominantly white protesters). The cynical jokes get kind of tired out after repeating the same bit for about 45 minutes; the point was made and understood pretty quickly. In all honesty, I found the entire second act to be quite uninteresting. Aster gives all of the characters essentially no personalities in order to achieve the “blank slate” feeling of Eddington. This works well at some points, as I mentioned earlier, but really weighs the film down in the more plot heavy sections. As a viewer, I have literally no emotional investment in anything that’s happening to anyone. Aster doesn’t really ask you to care about the characters but he does ask you to watch them do things in some semblance of a plot. Not watch them do things in an interesting Jacques Rivette or Chantal Akerman way, but in a “why am I watching this scene right now” way.

Eddington’s third act is (in my opinion) the most successful portion, because it gives up the hindering narrative framework of the film. I understand the context of the first like hour and forty-five minutes of the film is necessary - the language of the film mirrors Joe’s grip on reality. I can’t help but wish it was structured in a more dynamic manner that did not rely solely on the satirical humor. Once Joe has completely lost control and given into the conspiracy that he is being “targeted,” we get to experience his distorted rampage through the barren landscape. I will say the concept of the Red Scare ass Antifa super villain group is one of the funnier bits in the movie.

Using a more surrealist touch, Aster rounds out the idea that American sociopolitical disintegration destroys the individual. Joe runs through the desert and through the empty Eddington in utter fear of some far left group, something to blame for his suffering. The only thing to blame is Joe’s blind faith in and adherence to a system that was bound to fail him. He allows his own personal faults, insecurities, and biases to be exploited; he lacks the strength to fight back. His desire to maintain an illusion of control and a “normal” society is his ultimate downfall. Your bigotry and ignorance kills others and will probably kill you.

Eddington could be anywhere, the characters could be anyone. The physical isolation and empty landscape only emphasize the ever looming presence of death in the world around us. On almost every level, we are more alone than ever. The past and present condense, with future eternally uncertain.

TLDR: Eddingtion has interesting ideas but the execution is not the best.

that’s all I have to say bye

I took a picture of myself last year.

January 16, 2024.

My eyes were empty but the words were there.

Many unspoken thoughts

you could call them prayers.

A prayer to who or what?

who knows.

In the vein of prayers, I have been listening to Ethel Cain’s Perverts on a semi-constantly for the past week. The album itself feels like an inescapable loop, pulling me into its cyclical drones. The eerie emptiness is calming. It feels like a constant in a time when so many things are uncertain.

I’ve felt detached from many things since this year has started. I feel detached from the person I was a year ago. The only good detachment, perhaps. I have changed so much and asked so many questions. Many of the same questions that Perverts asks.

At the beginning of last year, I felt an abundance of shame and guilt. I was looking for something larger than me to adhere to. I couldn't find anything. This path was misguided in many ways, but it left me feeling apathetic to any higher power.

Disembodied.

Faith is something I have always struggled with. Growing up Catholic, I was taught and told specific things. Many of these teachings never made sense to me. But bold questions and divergence are often punished in nearly every religion. We must accept it at face value.

I started 2025 by rewatching Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me. Ever since I was a teenager, I’ve had a strong connection to Laura Palmer. Obviously, I am not alone in this. (though another discussion would be the current perception and representation of her character on social media) Fire Walk With Me is one of those movies that has an eternal emotional chokehold on me - that only seems to grow stronger as I get older. The ongoing fear of feeling unsafe in a place (either physical or theoretical) that’s meant to be familiar and secure continues to linger. Laura’s life, filled with abuse and secrecy, epitomize the destruction that may ensue when faith is broken and innocence is corrupted. Her eventual transcendence (or lack thereof) in the film’s final moments suggests that there is no easy resolution to a crisis of spirituality - which affects the entire town of Twin Peaks. The outro of the opening track on Perverts echoes this sentiment, the haunting line stating: “It’s happening to everyone.”

Laura Palmer is the vacillator - she exists as both a victim and someone trapped in a cycle of self-destruction.

Anyone could be the vacillator.

It could be me, it could be you.

The “everyman” qualities of both David Lynch and Ethel Cain’s art is precisely what draws me to them in times of uncertainty. To sit in the discomfort is to feel at peace.

I had been writing this for a few days, but pushing through to post it today. You will be missed forever David 🩷