104 in 2009 Week 23: Wuthering Heights and My Favorite Year

Hmm. . . guess I should have gotten around to this sooner. Instead, here I am, squeezing it in at the last minute before next week's post, which I'll be doing tomorrow (or, most likely today by the time you read this). Anyhoo. . .

Wuthering Heights
Robert Fuest, 1970

When a street urchin named Heathcliff (Timothy Dalton) is taken in by the Earnshaw family, he immediately bonds with Cathy (Anna Calder-Marshall), the only daughter. As they age, however, class barriers begin to separate them, and they unwittingly slip into a game of cruel and sadistic one-upsmanship (and love, I suppose).

Like just about all adaptations of Wuthering Heights, Robert Fuest’s version omits the last third or so of the book. This has the effect of making it a story about Heathcliff and Cathy instead of a story about Heathcliff and, more critically, making significant strides toward turning the story into a romantic tragedy (which it’s not). Fortunately, much of that work is undone by the addition of a new ending that gives Heathcliff a sendoff worthy of a great, sympathetic villain (which is what he is).

The casting is kind of hit or miss, but hits more than it misses. After seeing Dalton’s animalistic glowering, I can’t really see anyone else in the role, and most of the supporting cast is quite good as well – but Anna Calder-Marshall lacks Cathy’s fire, looks far too old for the part, and is generally inconsistent. She does have her moments (like her return to Wuthering Heights after spending a few months with the Lintons), but each of those is offset by something like (for instance) her ass-like braying of Heathcliff’s name as she runs around the moors looking for him.

Visually, things look great and atmospheric – as if Hammer films decided to adapt classic non-horror literature (which is fitting, since it was produced by the American Hammer, AIP). Fuest showcases a love of dramatic foreground objects (scythes, pitchforks) and has a tendency to create frames within the frame, surrounding actors with rock formations, windows and mirror edges in a manner similar to how Mario Bava shot Diabolik. It’s more subdued, but you can definitely see early stirrings of the talent that would go on to create The Abominable Dr. Phibes the next year.

All told, it was very enjoyable and generally well-crafted. But losing that third of the book robs the events of a lot of their meaning and depth, and Cathy is a pretty critical role to blow. It’s good, but not nearly as good as it ought to have been.

7/10

My Favorite Year
Richard Benjamin, 1982

An obnoxious comedy writer (Mark Linn-Baker) has to babysit a drunken, aging movie star (Peter O'Toole) who is slated to appear on a live comedy show.

Clearly, I waited too long to write this review, because I don’t have much to say. Peter O’Toole is good, but seems to be in a different movie from everyone else. Every moment he’s not onscreen (and some where he is) is excruciating.

2.5/10



Progress: 49 (Par +3)