Favorites: Quills

Dear Readers, this post covers a most impure tale, one which is inspired by a man so devoid of--for lack of a better word--inhibitions that many of you may not dare to watch. Thankfully, I have, so you may read what I write and decide for yourselves if this is the film for you.

Quills is a fascinating film, full of what many films lack today: wit. It follows the final years of the Marquis de Sade at Charanton, an asylum for the criminally insane. Have you heard of him? If no, have you heard of the word "sadism"? Well, he's the man that gave us that wonderful word. Sade found pleasure in everything, and I mean everything. In his philosophy, morality is a faulty human construct that serves nothing but to limit humanity's true potential. He wrote about his views in the most salacious manner: by writing erotic/philosophical novels that voiced and demonstrated his philosophy. Needless to say, he was both popular and considered the most evil man of his time. Frequently locked away for crimes that involved sodomy, the abuse of prostitutes, and the overall defilement of anyone (man or woman, boy or girl) who crossed his path.

Generally speaking, the Marquis doesn't sound like the type of person who could be considered a protagonist in any story, except for maybe one of his own. However, Quills does just that. The Marquis is the hero of the film, a free-thinking writer who attacks hypocrisy and indulges in the all the pleasurable experiences of which a human being can play a part. Indeed, in the film, despite being French, he's the symbol of a very American ideal, "free speech". And boy did he ever test that ideal!

Truthfully, the film tones down the Marquis' true nature. After watching the film again recently, I was curious if any of his works could be found online. They're available, but I'm not entirely sure I should thank Google or not. The website I found contains most of his writings, including 120 Days of Sodom and Philosophy in the Bedroom. The latter is the one I chose after reading a synopsis of the former and not feeling up to the challenge of reading it. To be sure, his works are a challenge, a dare, as the website is so kind of point out: "To read him is to come against an iron will."

Well, I must say I lost the dare. My curiosity carried me to about page 40 of 144. I just couldn't take anymore, and I wish it hadn't carried me that far. His writings push the limits of a person's ability to look at his works from an academic standpoint. The only positive thing I can say about the experience is that his writings have a visceral effect on the reader. No other writer I've yet read has produced such a revulsion of not only acts, but ideas.

I'll just stick with Quills, thank you, and Geoffery Rush's outstanding performance. I believe this film, so far, is one of Rush's best performances. Think of what he has to accomplish: He must transform one of the most reviled human beings ever to exist into a sympathetic and physically attractive character. Both of which he accomplishes with absurd and bewildering ease. Of course, the narrative of the screenplay helps, which is based off a play, but Rush really sinks his teeth into this one with a kind of bravery that is hard not to admire. Now, think about Rush, his appearance; he's not an altogether attractive man, but he establishes an attractive sexuality not through physical appearance but through intelligence, wit, and a fantastic sense of humor about the human experience.

One of my favorite lines--truthfully, the only one I feel comfortable posting here--occurs near the climax of the film. After everything is taken from the Marquis, anything he could use to write, including his clothing, he and Madeleine (Kate Winslet), a laundress at the asylum who has been smuggling his manuscripts to a publisher, attempt to write a new story together with the help of the Marquis' fellow inmates. Since the Marquis cannot write himself, he must rely on others to relay his message in a perverse version of the telephone game. After one of his lines is mutilated by the one of the inmates, he cries, "My glorious prose filtered through the minds of the insane. Who knows? They might improve it."

In addition to Rush, there is at least one other standout performance: Michael Caine, playing Dr. Royer-Collard. Seriously, how can one man go from playing a character more evil than the Marquis himself to playing beloved Alfred in Christopher Nolan's Batman trilogy? A damn fine actor, that's who. The film sets these two against each other, a pair of iron wills, in order to illustrate the battling forces at work whenever an artist disrupts the established order. But it also demonstrates that those who fight hardest against what they consider to be sexual perversity harbor that same "perversity" within themselves. Look at how Royer-Collard subtly displays enjoyment in causing others pain, much like the Marquis finds sexual enjoyment in the same. The only difference is that the Marquis freely admits to his sexual preferences, revolting as they may be, while the good doctor is merely a hypocrite.

Quills is essentially about the freedom of artistic expression, the freedom to explore and to think in ways others may find distasteful or disturbing. Yes, this tale is not for everyone, but if you dare to watch, it is a great example of brilliant performances and great writing. And if you want to experience writing that tests the limits of your will, then by all means read the Marquis de Sade. But don't say I didn't warn you.