A quasi-fictional account of the Marquis de Sade's (Geoffrey Rush) latter years in a lunatic asylum, we see the Maquis being encouraged to write by the sympahetic Abbé of the establishment. His erotic outpourings are smuggled out of the asylum by Madeleine, the asylum's 17 year old laundry maid (Kate Winslet), to an eager public, much to the chagrin of the Emperor Napoleon. The sadistic Dr. Royer-Collard (Michael Caine- hopelessly miscast) is sent to the asylum- a picturesque, decaying château - to stop this threat to public morals. De Sade continues to write, and hilarious consequences ensue- or rather not: the film spirals into a horrifying, though often titillating, depiction of sadistic violence, rape, torture, necrophilia and coprophilia.
The most compelling character amidst this depravity is the young Abbé Coulmier (Joaquin Phoenix). We meet him first as a gentle young soul, perhaps a little troubled by his feelings for Madeleine, but diligently trying to rehabilitate his lunatics through literature and art. His inability to control the Marquis's writings leads to some of the most striking images of the film, and provides the film with its dramatic impetus: deprived of writing materials, de Sade uses red wine and his sheets, then his own blood and clothing, and, finally, stripped and tortured, daubs obscenities in his own faeces on the walls of his oubliette.
Madeleine, the object of de Sade's and Coulmier's tendresse, ultimately becomes the victim of the Marquis's depraved mind and the priest's piety. Rather unexpectedly perhaps, it is the relationship between Culmier and Madeleine that is the most erotic and effective, if rather clichéd. Coulmier teaches Madeleine to read; cue tremulous, tortured glances and sharp intakes of breath as they brush against each other. Madeleine is lashed for aiding the Marquis- Coulmier rushes up to the post, rips his shirt open and offers himself up as sacrifice. Phoenix is brilliant - so much emoting, so much chest baring, while Kate's bosoms heave with little or no restraint.
The Hogarthian chaos of the madhouse provides a splendidly bawdy backdrop to the rather intense machinations between the principal characters. Drooling idiots caper around, and naked women seem to flash by in every other scene. An amusing sub plot is provided by Dr Royer-Collard's marraige to a convent raised, virginal, 15 year old, played with an engaging archness by Amelia Warner. Forced to submit to the good doctor's fumblings every night, she becomes sexualy enlightened by Justine and seduces the young architect engaged to work on her gilded cage.
The central figure, of course, is the infamous Marquis himself. Geoffrey Rush plays him as a writer, not a fantasist, a man who sacrifices himself to destroy the hypocrisy that surrounds him. This is a fairly sympathetic reading of de Sade's life and works, and Rush, with a satanic glint in his eye, succeeds. The sheer skill and craft of Rush in many ways grounds this rather overblown film, and the rumoured Oscar nomination would be well deserved.
As an entertainment, this film is without doubt among the most diverting and disturbing films I have seen. Occasionally it strives to touch a deeper level, and fails - the most notable example of this being the closing scenes. Director Philip Kaufman stated that he didn't want a "Hollywood ending" - presumably one in which the Marquis saw the error of his ways, and was redeemed by the power of love, or some such device. Instead he tacks on a grotesque, clumsy coda, shattering the delicate (and precarious) balance between irony, tragedy and comedy that Quills had successfully contrived and maintained up until the last five minutes. Nevertheless, this is a film that is both intelligent and entertaining, a combination that is almost as rare as a first edition of one of the Marquis's works.
The most compelling character amidst this depravity is the young Abbé Coulmier (Joaquin Phoenix). We meet him first as a gentle young soul, perhaps a little troubled by his feelings for Madeleine, but diligently trying to rehabilitate his lunatics through literature and art. His inability to control the Marquis's writings leads to some of the most striking images of the film, and provides the film with its dramatic impetus: deprived of writing materials, de Sade uses red wine and his sheets, then his own blood and clothing, and, finally, stripped and tortured, daubs obscenities in his own faeces on the walls of his oubliette.
Madeleine, the object of de Sade's and Coulmier's tendresse, ultimately becomes the victim of the Marquis's depraved mind and the priest's piety. Rather unexpectedly perhaps, it is the relationship between Culmier and Madeleine that is the most erotic and effective, if rather clichéd. Coulmier teaches Madeleine to read; cue tremulous, tortured glances and sharp intakes of breath as they brush against each other. Madeleine is lashed for aiding the Marquis- Coulmier rushes up to the post, rips his shirt open and offers himself up as sacrifice. Phoenix is brilliant - so much emoting, so much chest baring, while Kate's bosoms heave with little or no restraint.
The Hogarthian chaos of the madhouse provides a splendidly bawdy backdrop to the rather intense machinations between the principal characters. Drooling idiots caper around, and naked women seem to flash by in every other scene. An amusing sub plot is provided by Dr Royer-Collard's marraige to a convent raised, virginal, 15 year old, played with an engaging archness by Amelia Warner. Forced to submit to the good doctor's fumblings every night, she becomes sexualy enlightened by Justine and seduces the young architect engaged to work on her gilded cage.
The central figure, of course, is the infamous Marquis himself. Geoffrey Rush plays him as a writer, not a fantasist, a man who sacrifices himself to destroy the hypocrisy that surrounds him. This is a fairly sympathetic reading of de Sade's life and works, and Rush, with a satanic glint in his eye, succeeds. The sheer skill and craft of Rush in many ways grounds this rather overblown film, and the rumoured Oscar nomination would be well deserved.
As an entertainment, this film is without doubt among the most diverting and disturbing films I have seen. Occasionally it strives to touch a deeper level, and fails - the most notable example of this being the closing scenes. Director Philip Kaufman stated that he didn't want a "Hollywood ending" - presumably one in which the Marquis saw the error of his ways, and was redeemed by the power of love, or some such device. Instead he tacks on a grotesque, clumsy coda, shattering the delicate (and precarious) balance between irony, tragedy and comedy that Quills had successfully contrived and maintained up until the last five minutes. Nevertheless, this is a film that is both intelligent and entertaining, a combination that is almost as rare as a first edition of one of the Marquis's works.