It's pretty unlikely that in 1968 a heavily explicit depiction of the life of the infamous Marquis De Sade would hit cinema screens, but even taking that into consideration, this is a mostly pallid and ludicrous film. Dullea (horribly miscast) portrays the sexually depraved figure, a man who wrote works which shock people even today. The film opens with the Marquis taking refuge in a dilapidated castle where his life is reflected upon in a series of flashbacks and surreal theatrical performances, presided over by Dullea's uncle, an Abbe (played by Huston.) Time and place are distorted and conjoined erratically as the viewer is shown key moments in Dullea's childhood and young adulthood. He witnesses Huston whipping a young lady's bottom and is in turn whipped by her at the insistence of Huston. He marries Palmer's homely daughter Massey, though it is Massey's voluptuous sister Berger he really wants. Despite his marriage (and children), he continues a lifestyle of whoring and playing, which confounds Palmer. He spends a significant amount of time in prison for his immoral offenses until he is shown as an old man being seen to by a nun. Dullea (who is undeniably handsome and has sensational blue eyes, which are highlighted lovingly) is all wrong for this part. He isn't dynamic enough to shed any light on the man he's portraying and plays his orgy scenes like a fraternity brother, with a broad grin on his face and his tongue sticking out. He's clearly wearing bikini briefs under his period pants, something that was doubtfully part of De Sade's wardrobe! (In fact, most of the "sex" scenes involve a lot of frolicking about with the men mostly dressed and pouring wine all over. Not exactly most peoples' idea of a good time!) Huston tries to inject a lascivious touch into his role and succeeds somewhat, but it's all too choppy and sketchy to add up to much. Palmer looks sensational in the period clothes and wigs and probably comes off best since she is allowed to register indignation and despair regarding Dullea. Massey is appropriately resigned and unhappy, though the script gives her precious little to do. The biggest asset to the film is the positively stunning presence of Berger, who likely never looked better in a movie. Unfortunately, her role is limited mostly to tiny moments of appearing and disappearing and the camera doesn't linger on her as much as one might like. When she's there, though, there's a whole new life to the otherwise downbeat proceedings. There were debates about whether to present the story in a straightforward, linear fashion or to tell it in piecemeal flashbacks. The result is a disjointed, sometimes confusing mishmash, which is not saved by the allegedly titillating sequences that most often come off as foolish. There are indeed healthy servings of bare breasts and bottoms from a bevy of females, but it certainly doesn't add up to anything very provocative or even interesting. The costumes are elegant and the sets are sometimes very arresting, but the project was doomed from the start thanks to the script and the misguided casting of Dullea. Touches which mark the film as a 60s project make it a little bit more visually entertaining, but not, perhaps, for the reasons intended. Ditto the animated opening credits and the score. And for a film about one of the most notorious authors ever, why are there so few, if any, scenes of the man writing anything?!