User Reviews

Considering that it is penned by the late, great Richard Matheson and directed by Cy Endfield (of Zulu fame), with additional scenes helmed by Roger Corman, the credentials seem to be in place for De Sade to be a rather fascinating movie. The talent behind the camera is more than matched in front of it too, with a cast of some distinction including Keir Dullea, John Huston, Lilli Palmer and Senta Berger. Despite the promising elements, alas, the film is an absolute damp squib. It fails as art, it fails as exploitation; and as entertainment it offers virtually nothing. The film doesn't so much miss an opportunity as collapse with scarcely a whimper.

Fugitive the Marquis De Sade (Keir Dullea) seeks refuge at his ancestral home, where he is persuaded to watch a bizarre play arranged for his entertainment by his uncle, the Abbe (John Huston). The play depicts a distorted recount of the Marquis's own life, and is intercut with his own fragmentary flashbacks to his earlier life and debaucheries. Much is made of the De Sade's uneasy link to Madame De Montreuil (Lilli Palmer), mother of two daughters, both of whom have relationships with the young Marquis. He reluctantly marries the eldest sister, Renee (Anna Massey), even though he finds her dull and plain and lusts much more openly after her younger sister Anne (Senta Berger). De Sade mistreats Renee horribly, and is involved in debauchery after debauchery, orgy after orgy, scandal after scandal; bringing great shame upon the family and earning himself a reputation as a debased and depraved individual.

So, where does a film about such a potentially intriguing subject go so horribly wrong? The blame can be apportioned quite evenly – first comes Matheson's script: a dreadful mess which attempts, unsuccessfully, to evoke a nightmarish dream, fragmented memories of a dying man. Second is the lacklustre performance of Dullea as the title character, a crashing bore as interpreted by the actor (he is totally upstaged by everyone around him, particularly Palmer). And thirdly, the attempts to inject permissive, orgiastic and titillating excesses – sex and depravity chief amongst them – are woefully unconvincing. Dullea romps beneath the bedsheets with several women at once, pouring wine into their mouths while gorging on grapes, but the overwhelming impression one gets is of something utterly unerotic and unstimulating. The character looks more like a 'Jack the Lad' - a 'swinger' for want of a better word – than a dangerous and perverted corrupter of young souls. The film is at least richly photographed, with lavish sets and costumes, but these touches do not save it. They merely nudge it a notch or two above the dreaded one- star rating that it would otherwise deserve. Whichever way you look at it De Sade is a notable failure, a film as forgotten and obscure as it deserves to be,

The audience for this curious tale of the man whose name created the term sadomasochism gets to see his personal life through two angles. First, there is the reality of what is happening, and then there is how he apparently views it, in red filter tones that look like something out of your worst nightmare.

A ton of bare busted women all get physically and sexually abused by this aristocrat who demands pain with pleasure simply because it amuses him. If he isn't whipping some female, he is reminding them of his power over them. Taking his story back to his childhood and the abuse is from his wicked uncle, John Huston, this still doesn't get any sympathy into his story. Basically however, there really is no story and while artistically impressive it does not make for a good tale of debauchery. What could have been a psychological look into the life of a man who didn't even warrant a listing in my biographical dictionary which lists many people who probably never even get looked up.

Told through an apparent stage performance of him looking back at his life with the ghostly presence of uncle Huston, this suffers not only from the lack of a real story but many dry patches that create a dull flow. A better version of the de Sade story wasn't actually a biography, but a 4 film where on alleged descendants of the marquis begins to believe that he is him. So for entertainment value at least, check out Mickey Hargitay in Bloody Pit of Horror and skip this one unless witnessing somebody's acid trip is truly your thing.

I remember i watched the movie many years ago, and i have watched it again very recently.

This film is not so bad as the other reviewers say. On the good side, It manages to introduce an interesting point of view about Sade. On the bad side, it lacks rythm and the " Sex Scenes" are utterly laughable.

Nevertheless, if you have read something about Sade, you might enjoy. The Script is irregular, the actors are decent.

There are a few moments where an atmosphere was almost created. While the movie is not Special, it is not so detestable as they say.

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?!