OK - first let me say that there has been a lot of talk about this version vs the 1992 version with Fiennes and Binoche. In fact, both productions made one fundamental mistake which would have otherwise rendered each version near perfect - they cast the wrong female leads. Calder-Marshall is far too posh for Cathy. My goodness me though - Dalton is perfect as Heathcliffe. I'm going to put this down to the make up department but it's actually hard to believe that Calder-Marshall is about 3 years younger than him. I actually think she is a good actress, but certainly miscast as Cathy. What really galls me though is the screenplay which takes such liberties with the story, much of which is simply left out and a completely different ending formulated. The last time I felt so cheated was when I watched Captain Corelli's Mandolin! Bottom line - a great example of a real missed opportunity to be the definitive version...

This is a classic example of a film made with the best of intentions, where most of the people involved didn't quite have a handle on the material and wound up producing something fairly inoffensive but forgettable... EXCEPT... somehow there are shining moments.

I've seen a lot of movies and it is pretty hard to impress me; but the sequence near the end of the film where Heathcliff goes down to Cathy's grave, later to be led on up the hill by her ghost, is simply one of the most haunting fleeting moments of cinema I have ever seen. In ANY film (and I have seen very many of the greats). Yes, this was just a lowly little teen-oriented American International Picture, directed by some studio stalwart, starring some inexperienced actors who were given a not very challenging screenplay that wasn't all that true to the source material. But this brief sequence just rises above all that -- simply and brilliantly directed, unforgettably scored (by Michel Legrand), fearlessly acted by a very young Timothy Dalton.

I don't know if I can recommend the movie based just on that, flawed as the film is, but I couldn't stop thinking about that scene for days, how close it got to the human condition on a visceral yet poetic level. It's just one of those things about moments of movie magic. You never know where it will strike, even in movies that don't rank with the best. I can't say I thought this version of Wuthering Heights was the best, but I can certainly understand why many people have remembered it fondly.

Several people have mentioned the music from this film, and for good reason. This was one of a handful of extraordinary scores by the largely forgotten Michel Legrand (THREE MUSKATEER 1974; SUMMER OF '42, BRIAN'S SONG, among others), and is one of my favorite twenty or so film scores ever. This movie, well-photographed as it was, simply reeks of Gothic atmosphere in great part because of this music. Passionate, sensual, beautiful, and tremendously dramatic, it was even released as a record album in 1970 by the short-lived American International Records Label and, unfortunately, has never been made available on CD. It would be worth a purchase on eBay! I also feel that, while Dalton as Heathcliff is by no means in the same acting league as Sir Laurence Olivier, his passion for Calder-Marshall (who is less effective as Cathy than was Merle Oberon) is nonetheless more urgent and less studied than Oliver's was in the '39 version.

I enjoy the original film for its moody black and white imagery and its fine romantic score (by Alfred Newman, also not available on CD); but, though it's admittedly a lesser film, by a small margin I prefer this 1970 take which, without Legrand's evocative scoring, would probably have been a bust.