Like its two famous lovers, this adaptation goes wildly off the beaten track and wades recklessly into the mud without a second thought for convention. Handheld cameras, sheep slaughter and a gratifying amount of swearing take the viewer far from the comforting parlours of traditional period drama (but don’t worry, there’s still a good quota of billowing white shirts).

To be honest, this is a relief. Wuthering Heights just isn’t the sort of novel that can be pinned down into a screenplay. Director Andrea Arnold presents barely any dialogue, instead relying on breathtaking cinematography and unflinching realism. The lack of music, and eerie, unwavering background noise of wind, add to the sense of isolation.

Told from the perspective of a savage but enthralling Heathcliff, the film asks if wild things can ever be tamed, whether cruelty pays, and if social boundaries can be transcended. Such a dark story needs generous lashings of rain, wind, mud and blood; thus sometimes it feels more like a war film than a romance. But most memorable are the moments of sensitivity and stillness between the two heroes.

As a child, outsider Heathcliff’s only friend is the wild young Cathy, with whom he shares a reckless passion for roaming outdoors. When their love, impenetrable and unfathomable to those around them, is rent apart, Heathcliff’s devastation knows no bounds; he begins to wreak havoc on the lives of all who live in this isolated corner of the Yorkshire moors.

The film would not have suffered if half the shots of Heathcliff languishing in the rain had been replaced with a bit of extra dialogue. There was also a disappointing lack of passion in the grown-up actors during the second half, so that their all-consuming love-hate relationship is rather understated by the end.

This film will not have you weeping with anguish over a love which cannot be contained by this world. Instead it focuses on what a brutal place the world can be when you have known happiness and lost it. You will leave the cinema feeling cold, wet and miserable. But every Edinburgh resident knows that, now and then, that’s good for the soul.