Quills (Philip Kaufman, 2000)
Imdb
Date Watched: 02/06/16
Cinema or Home: Home
Reason For Watching: One does not need a reason to watch Quills
Rewatch: Yes
Previous Write-Ups: The MoFo Millennium Top 100, The Fifth Hall of Fame
Warning: This Review May Contain Spoilers
From 1801 until his death in 1814, the Marquis de Sade was imprisoned at Charenton Asylum - a place known for its humane treatment of psychiatric patients (an unusual thing in that era) under the direction of the Abbé de Coulmier. This is about the only shred of actual fact that you will find in this film. Sticklers for historical accuracy need look elsewhere. This is not a bio-pic. This is not a history lesson.
This is a film about the clash of art, science, and religion. It is a film about corruption and hypocrisy. It is a film about the effect that art has on those who produce it, those who consume it, and those who seek to suppress it. This isn't a film about de Sade the man. Instead it is a love letter to de Sade
the idea - a libertine who wrote of "the great eternal truths that bind together all mankind the whole world over. We eat, we s---, we f---, we kill, and we die."
Whiling away his time in the asylum, de Sade (Geoffrey Rush, in an Oscar Nominated performance) smuggles his pornographic manuscripts to a publisher with the help of a virginal chambermaid (Kate Winslet). Oblivious to the leak, the naïve and trusting Abbé de Coulmier (Joaquin Phoenix, in the role that made me love him) encourages the Marquis to write for "curative purposes" and allows de Sade to direct theatrical plays with the asylum’s other inmates, seeing therapeutic value in the arts and personal expression.
But it's not long before Napolean catches wind of de Sade's activities and he dispatches the "staunchly moral" man of science, Dr. Royer-Collard (Michael Caine) to oversee Charenton. Collard brings with him his "calming chair," whips, restraints, and an assortment of other barbaric devices meant to cure "God's tiny blunders." He also delivers the Abbé an ultimatum: Silence the Marquis or Charenton will be shut down.
Desperate to save his life's work and under pressure from Collard, de Coulmier enacts increasingly cruel measures to stop de Sade and the audience is left to watch as a once benevolent man of the cloth devolves into a depraved madman who is perhaps more sadistic than the man whose name is the root of that very word. And in the face of this abuse, de Sade pushes back - engaging the Abbé in a game of power and inventing new and increasingly bizarre ways to express himself. And it's this struggle for dominance that produces one of the film's most potent scenes: After writing his latest work with his own blood on his clothes, de Sade is punished by de Coulmier by being forced to strip completely naked. But the Marquis turns this power play into a lesson in humiliation for the Abbé, refusing to let the priest look away and taunting him with each article of clothing, piece of jewelry, and finally his blood stained wig.
But where the two men share common ground is in their love for Madeleine, the chambermaid who abets de Sade’s crimes of rebellion. And it is the love of this girl that ultimately brings their worlds crashing down around them.
Quills the movie is based on a stage play of the same name and, owing to its theater roots and the nature of its subject, the acting and dialogue are a bit
over-ripe. It’s very theatrical and sometimes borders on camp. The words are thick with innuendo and jabs at organized religion and the images are often erotic, violent, shocking, and unforgettably disturbing, making for a film that is not for the prudish or easily offended.
The performances here are universally strong. Geoffrey Rush tackles his role as de Sade with an impressive combination of glee and confidence. He embodies the film’s libertine ideals – taunting and mocking those who seek to silence him, refusing to be cowed no matter what the cost, standing proud as the sneering, incorruptible soul of the story. Michael Caine has a lot of fun too in his role as the villainous Royer-Collard, driving the once humane priest to madness and barbarity, all while sitting back and watching the destruction with a smug grin. Kate Winslet brings a sweet sense of innocence, mischief, and curiosity to her role as Madeleine. A then teenaged Amelia Warner is impressive too as Collard’s wife, evolving from naïve child to cunning seductress. But of course it is Joaquin Phoenix who makes the movie for me. The Abbé has relatively little dialogue, but Phoenix conveys those words with passion and conviction. He also brings to the role a certain fragility and in his face we watch as de Coulmier is transformed from wide-eyed innocence to wild-eyed depravity.
As to the film’s more technical aspects, the score is minimal but effective. Much of the cinematography in the early scenes has a misty, dream-like haze to it that gives way to increasing darkness and sickly shades of yellow and gold. The result leaves the viewer to feel as if they too are trapped in the dank walls of the asylum as order gives way to chaos and madness.
This is a film that seems tailor-made for me. It’s funny, irreverent, erotic, character and dialogue driven, and highly emotional. It also touches on subjects that, as someone who has written erotic fiction, are very dear to my heart. Fifteen years ago, it became an instant favorite and after watching it again tonight, I can say with complete confidence that my love for it has not waned.
Oh, and Phoenix has never looked sexier than in this role. He makes me think really,
really dirty thoughts.
"In each of us there is such beauty and such abomination. No man is exempt."