Quills: Review

Quills, Phillip Kaufman's 2000 drama, critically applauded upon its initial release, can now be viewed seven years after the fact as nothing more than an interesting failure. It certainly is not for a lack of trying however, as Kaufman and his cast and crew reach for brave heights but the higher that they grasp, the less assured each step becomes. What begins as an interesting examination of the power and responsibility of art and provocateurs quickly degrades into a slow bore, only to regain its power for one sequence, then lose its momentum again. It is unfortunate that the film is so uneven as some of the ideas that it puts forth are interesting and worthy of exploration. Quills buckles under the weight of its own ambition, leaving a film that could have been significant had it aimed just a tad bit lower.

As I mentioned earlier, the film successes can largely be attributed to its cast, who all latch onto the material given to them and try their hardest to make it pop. Geoffrey Rush is brilliant as the Marquis De Sade, perfectly capturing both his vulnerability and flamboyant nature with ease. He creates a character that the audience finds themselves rooting for, despite the fact that they are simultaneously repulsed by some of his actions. Michael Caine is effortlessly harsh as a strict disciplinarian that is brought in to regain control of the sanitarium that Joaquin Phoenix has lost control of and De Sade inhabits. Caine and Rush have reached a point in their careers when it’s shocking if they are ever anything other than superb. Even in blockbusters such as Batman Begins and the Pirates of the Caribbean series, they turn in exemplary performances and steal the scenes that they are in. Kate Winslet is wonderful here as well, carefully walking the line between sinful sexuality and angelic purity.

For a subject such as De Sade, it seems as if this movie is fairly tame compared to the controversy that he caused. It seems at times to be no more than a juvenile sex comedy, devoid of intelligent criticism, removed in favor of bawdy jokes. If one had wanted this type of humor, they would be much better off renting a film like American Pie, avoiding all the preaching about artistic integrity and importance and just having a good time. The fatal flaw here is that the film can never truly decide what it wants to be and as a result, its uneven nature is born. Had it stuck to a single tone, it would have been much better suited. The first half is decidedly more pleasant (and dull) to watch. The second half, on the other hand, has a dramatic change in tone, becoming deathly serious, losing all of the humor and carefree nature of the first half. Admittedly, I found the second portion of the film to be more exciting and provocative. It raises a series of interesting questions about art but the answers it seems satisfied with giving never fully materialize into a complete viewpoint. Its scattered thinking ends up hurting the film tremendously, leaving the viewer wishing that it would form a more concrete thought. The story seems too jam packed with different romantic angles to form a coherent thought. Rather, the schizophrenic nature of the film works to frustrate and confuse, instead of taking the opportunity to enlighten.

This is not to suggest that the last part of the film is completely without merit. A riot sequence at the asylum is done masterfully, layering different levels of tension that result in a shocking reveal. It is a testament to Kaufman's direction that this sequence can simultaneously feel dangerous and humorous and shows that when the film actually achieves what it aims to do, it is brilliantly realized. I imagine that De Sade himself might have found some entertainment value in this sequence with its manic energy climaxing at just the right moment, reveling in a combination of sex and violence, both disturbing and amusing the viewer with ease. When the moment ends, it leaves the viewer wanting more and unfortunately, the film then runs out of steam, desperately throwing every statement it can onto the screen, few of which actually stick.

The questions that the film raises are interesting and vast and anyone interested in art, regardless of medium will undoubtedly find them intriguing. What are the responsibilities of the artist? Should artists be socially and morally responsible? Must art provoke thought and emotion or can it just lull the viewer into a state of contentment? What, if anything, does art owe to society and vice versa? Is pornography, if it examines philosophy and moral standards, art? If not, why isn't it? These are fascinating questions and can be applied to painting, film, literature, sculpture, etc. There are literally no boundaries. In a time in which many works of art, in cinema in particular, push the boundaries with extreme violence and sexuality, these questions seem particularly timely. Take, for example, Chan-Wook Park and his revenge trilogy of Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance, Oldboy and Lady Vengeance, all films that are extremely violent and sexual. Many decry them due to their content but they are undoubtedly skillful creations that possess a great deal of style and substance. Do their violent natures create violent societies or do violent societies create violent films? Is art responsible for taking a moral high ground and show society how to live? Can art do that through extreme sex and violence? These are the types of questions that Quills raises but doesn't lend much thought to them. Rather, it’s willing to ask and forget. As a result, I think that the while the questions will linger, the film will fade quickly from memory, becoming merely a brief conversation starter than a truly thoughtful and exciting statement.

**/ *****