Wuthering Heights 

In theaters, Opened February 13, 2026 

Withering Heights

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In theaters, Opened February 13, 2026

Book Lovers Beware: This is not Wuthering Heights. This is an Emerald Fennell movie.

Emily Bronte’s Wuthering Heights has shot to the number 1 bestseller of the week at McNally Jackson SoHo, now the Penguin Classic Deluxe Edition boasting a comic gothic cover akin to a drawing of Wednesday Adams in Netflix, and the back boasting a drawing of Heathcliff more like Robert Pattinson in Twilight. Emerald Fennell’s version has cast Euphoria’s (and more recent and perchance apt Frankenstein’s) Jacob Elordi as Heathcliff and Margot Robbie (the titular Barbie and Harley Quinn) as an earnest, buxom Catherine Earnshaw.

With the internet maelstrom trending, I purchase the book but decide a re-read will have to wait. In my expediency, I open the cover and settle for perusing the opening line: “1801- This is certainly a beautiful country!” Ah, I remember: the unreliable narrator! I reserve movie tickets post-haste. 

Trigger Warning: You’re not going to see an adaptation of a book. You’re going to see a movie inspired by a book from 1847 packaged for the non-literary Gen Z. The amount you appreciate the source materials is directly proportionate to how you feel about the movie. If you go to an Emerald Fennell movie and expect anything other than that, it’s like going to Scream and not expecting a horror movie. Kind of like Clueless is based on Emma. They should have called it something else, like The House. Fittingly, House is the title track of Charli XCX’s accompanying concept album. You can get a double-dose of Charli right now at Nitehawk Movie Theater, in her self-starring mock-umentary, The Moment, and then head for the soppy sound bath that is her Wuthering Heights musical accompaniment. 

And now for the feature presentation. I was never partial to Heathcliff. Here, Elordi is a handsome Fabio on a black steed riding into the blood-red sunset. Amongst his other pursuits:

He can start a fire!

He can hoist her into a tree!

He lifts bales of hay!

He slaughters pigs!

All with muscles bulging and glistening in heady sweat!!

Similarly, Margot Robbie as Catherine is sincere, whereas I always found the book’s character ridiculous and unbelievable:

“You must like to see me cry.”

“Not as much as you like the act of crying.”

Isabella, the moneyed and naive rival, is a Promising Young Woman. Here, Emerald turns consent on its head, leaving us barking for more.

This tale is more about class than consent:

“What’s wrong, Catherine? Is the necklace too big? Is the dog too small?”

Pink marble walls with purple veins and pools of blood. And who can forget Margot Robbie’s now-trending hair with twin corset braids styled like horns, more devilishly elaborate as the affair scenes progress.

I was never partial to the book— always a Jane Eyre type at heart, having read it cover to cover at least 5 times and even studying it in college. Wuthering Heights is more High School fare, and I remember rolling my eyes at the clearly lesser sister’s stupid book about stupid people. “I could die of boredom.” To quote Cathy. 

In the theater, the cacophony of laughter from the female movie audience at every lascivious look from Elordi to his female compatriots leads us into camp territory—cinematic masterpiece aside:

Masturbation on the moors.

Sex on the hardwood floors.

Climax in the carriage.

Cunnilingus in the Emerald forest.

I don’t remember this in the book.

I ask Emerald:

“Are you pleased with yourself?”

“Yes. Very.”

Defenseless, I agree. 

Girls Gone South

The Magic City

Hollywood, FL 33019

January 2026

 

Best Weekend Ever”

 

It’s the weekend after a record 14 day Christmas and New Year’s holiday break and I find myself back at it for a Bridesmaid Reunion for my best friend’s post 15-year anniversary celebration. She’s dubbed us the Traveling Bridesmaids and is wielding her Bridezilla mic to summon us from around the world to a whirlwind weekend in not-quite Miami. 6 of the 9 of us ladies in waiting respond to the siren call for solo weekend sans kids, husbands and cares.

 

3:45pm

Hop in an Uber to LGA for a 5:40pm flight to MIA. Only 30 minutes from Bushwick, Brooklyn allowing me to get in a full workday from 6am-3pm.

 

4:45pm

Breeze through security with TSA Pre-check and head to the Delta Lounge—a remodeled treat at LGA. Free Prosecco as I await one NY friend’s arrival.

 

5:45pm

Flight is delayed. We dally on the runway until 6:45pm and don’t touch down until 8:45pm due to turbulence. The 80 degree heat is a welcome respite though. And yes, I’m gonna say it: Welcome to Miami!!! Bienvenido a Miami!!!

 

10pm

A $30 Uber deposits us at the nation’s newly dubbed best steakhouse in the country: Sunny’s. It’s an upscale outdoor party scene under the palms, with the young set dressed in their best minis. We arrive at our prime center table under the leafy banyan tree and greet the other bridesmaids who are already 3 rounds of cocktails in. The apps arrive and we enjoy the tasty salads, awesome oversized Hawaiian buns browned with fresh butter and Black Sea salt, followed by the cheapest 2 steaks and bottle of red on the menu, which are succulent, spiced and just the right amount of rare. Truly a treat and a toast to the NYTimes right-on review. The other ladies enjoyed the king crab ravioli but it was too creamy for my taste and myself and the vegetarian at the table scarfed down the perfectly al dente and less creamy Cacio e Pepe.

 

12am

Head back to our accommodations with our hostess with mostess at the almost-penthouse unit in the condo/AirBnB at Sian Ocean Residences. We have a corner unit with a balcony overlooking the bay in one direction and a prime ocean and pool view in the other.

 

10am

Roll out of bed and cross the street to Patagonia market for the best cafe con leche and a handful of handmade empanadas. We then head to the nearby Hollywood Beach Broadwalk and walk along the paved beachside bike and walking path peppered with bars, boutiques, beach wares and of course Senior Frogs and Margaritaville. We snag a few free pina colada shots from the street hawkers but other than that stay sober.

 

4pm

Drive to the Bayside shops to board the Thriller—a themepark style 45-minute boat tour that makes waves as you rock around the bay with a guided tour of celebrity mansions (J. Lo, Will Smith) and private islands (Oprah’s). Be ready to get wet and wild. No wonder they take your tourist pic BEFORE boarding (a package of 6 photos with frame available afterward for $25). No trip to Disney World necessary—better than Splash Mountain.

 

5pm

Tour the shops overlooking the lively Pier 5 and park yourself at any of the waterfront tables along the food court and order one of the best Cuban sandwiches for a perfectly toasted treat from Sanguich. Order a drink from the neighboring bar and they will bring it straight to your table. Beware the drink size! We *mistakenly* order 2 Medium Margaritas and end up with two humongous vats garnished with baby’s breath and supersized straws that serendipitously served 6 drinks each for $30 a pop. Ends up perfect for the bridal party pre-game.

 

9pm

Take a tour of the Wynwood Walls at night. Partake of the interactive outdoor sculpture park and accompanying galleries before they lock the gates at 10pm. Arrive earlier for the Saturday night scene with music and bar cart service.

 

10:30pm

Wander through Wynwood and see the abundance of street art, sculptures and party buses. We arrive on time for our reservation at the Bib Gourmand awardee newbie, Ghee. A fantastical Indian fusion restaurant that will spoil you for Indian food forever. Opt for the tasting menu for a family-sized portion of the chefs greatest hits including starters of Papaya Salad, Momo (mushroom dumplings) and mains of Saag Paneer and a Chicken Tikka Masala to die for—a bargain of $65 per person—or go a la cart as we did for additional coveted dishes such as the Duck Biryani. Don’t forget to order the spicy Ghost Pepper Cheddar Naan and our choice of the evening as a group of solo gals: Garlic Naan. The wine and cocktail program also do not disappoint. Befitting a Michelin striving chef, select from the well appointed wine list with a surprising Indian Chenin Blanc that pairs perfectly with the spices on the menu. Skip the cardamom cake dessert and opt for another bottle of wine. We will be back.

 

12:30am

The club scene on the street is hopping to we head for a cocktail at Dirty Rabbit. The black ruffled skirts and crop tops lining the sidewalk in front of the velvet rope belie the scene inside. With the line still too long, we abort mission and Uber it back to Hollywood Beach for a bottle of wine by moonlight out of plastic cups on the sand. Best weekend ever. Traveling Bridesmaid or not, can’t wait ‘til next time!!

 

 

I Puritani

The Metropolitan Opera

Lincoln Center, NYC

December 31, 2025 – January 18, 2026

⭐️⭐️⭐️

 

“Let me hope again or let me die”

-Elvira

It’s 4pm on New Year’s Eve and I am finishing a solo brunch at my local all-American Allswell which is unusually festive with the bar bedecked in glittering streamers and disco balls shining from the ceiling as they prepare for the evening’s countdown. I’m awaiting word from my date for the night: he’s stranded in Palm Beach due to the freezing conditions in NYC and quite possibly air traffic from the earlier Zelensky-Trump meeting at Mar-A-Lago. Will he or won’t he make it to the unusually early 6pm curtain time at the Lincoln Center? 

 

Ready with my outfit and make-up planned, I relax at the bar. I subscribe to the motto, “New year, new dress,” and have eagerly awaited this day to don my short, sequined number that Taylor Swift wore to her Jimmy Fallon interview in the Fall and stocked by none other than Annie’s Ibiza (now open in SoHo, NYC). But with temperatures clocking in at feels-like 11 degrees and snow on the way by nightfall, I had decided on a black, floor length, fully sleeved GANNI dress in theme for the evening’s I Puritani premier at the Met Opera.

 

I look up the reviews of past iterations.This is a brand new production but it’s Belinni’s final opera and always had mixed reviews and interpretations since its original premiere in 1835. No one can decide whether the play favors the loyalists or the Puritans. But one thing is for sure…there are three, yes 3 madwoman scenes!! After watching his La Sonnambula earlier this year with similar less than feminist hijinks, I wonder if this will stand the test of time. 

 

Still waiting for news on my date, I then go to download my tickets, and lo and behold discover I have reserved the entire first box in the Dress Circle for the evening. Panic ensues.  I text my date. He responds that he actually made it on a flight and can meet me there. I ask him to invite friends. He doesn’t respond. Time for a round of cell phone roulette. I frantically text everyone in my phone who I know doesn’t have plans and ask if they want to attend an opera that starts in less than two hours with a runtime that ends two and half hours before midnight. My good friend responds and says he can bring another guy friend as well. And so I find myself in a box with three single guys on NYE. How could this be bad??

 

I Puritani, I discover, is an odd choice for the New Year’s Eve Gala. More somber than celebratory. Described in one word: the costumes, the set lended to “pious” when the mood should have been “partaaay.”

Act I

The stark staging does nothing to showcase the Met’s majesty. A staid, wooden parliamentary set that alternated as puritanical gallows makes you believe the rumors that the Met has fallen upon hard times. But the singing is the showcase here with the three male leads reaching ultimate heights and Bellini’s commitment to writing vocal theatrics for his original all-star cast fully on display with this cadre of new stars, two (Lisette Oropesa as Elvira and Tony Stevenson as Bruno) being graduates of the Met Opera’s Lindemann Young Artists in Residence program. 

 

The scene at intermission is old school and the preparations for the gala are already underway. Only the head of the Young Associates program is visible amongst the tourists in the throng although the evening is hardly sold out.

 

Acts II and III

I usually leave at intermission for operas that are not my steeze but my impromptu compatriots wanted to persist and I am so glad we did. The best singing was yet come and now it had arrived. The summary? Woman goes cray-cray with a crayon. Best mad scene ever. Then, dueling baritones compete vocally in the name of the Cromwell crown and bring down the house. 

 

After a brief pause where a summary of the next milestones lay in the English Civil War are projected into the screen, the lovers reunite for a masterful duet and repeated turns of plot that leave us all winded. Yes, the battle was raging and the use of shadow loomed large but is a poor substitute for sumptuous sets.

 

Unless you are an opera diehard, I suggest you drink a Bellini rather than watch an opera from his namesake