University of Virginia Library

CINEMA

'Devils' Depicts A Genuine Hell On Earth

By PAUL CHAPLIN

With the arrival of Ken Russell's
"The Devils," I find myself doing
something that frequently happens
to a critic, namely having to retract
a few previous judgements. I can
now say that Russell still hasn't
matched the success of "Women In
Love," and his second best film is
either "The Devils" or "The Music
Lovers." Russell's script was
inspired by Aldous Huxley's
account. "The Devils of Loudon,"
a chronicle of events in the
southern part of France in the early
seventeenth century. Huxley's book
also found its way to the London
stage in the form of a play by John
Whiting, and two years age served
as the basis for the
Krzysztef Penderecki's opera, "The
Devils of Loudon." The mad nuns
also appeared in the Czech film
"Mother Joan of the Angels,"
making Russell's film the fourth
artistic piece within the last ten
years to study the panic in France.

Vanessa Redgrave plays the
sexually obsessed Sister Jeanne, the
mother superior of the convent in
Loudun. She sees Father Grandier
(Oliver Reed) in visions in which he
becomes Christ and makes love to:
her. Grandier, however, has been
active on his behalf, having
impregnated a young girl and
marrying another. Furthermore, he
is a threat to the spread of power
exercised by Cardinal Richelieu.
When Jeanne names Grandier as her
tormentor, the Baron de

Laubardemont sees his way to get
rid of Grandier, and the whole
town becomes subject to massive
rites of exorcism, while the plague
is spreading throughout France.

If you saw "The Music Lovers"
you can see by the plot summary
that this is far more gruesome
material than Tchaikovsky's life.
The events could become quite
confused on the screen, but
Russell's script manages to keep
things from becoming totally
chaotic, and even manages to
produce a few outstanding lines.
The subject of the film, however,
vacillates between being a study of
the political situation (along the
lines of Arthur Miller's "The
Crucible" and Penderecki's opera?)
and the bizarre practices of
exorcism supported by the Church.

Russell doesn't have the skills to
develop the political ironies beyond
merely suggesting that they exist.
Naturally, he finds the subject of
the cruelty of the exorcists, the
madness of Sister Jeanne, and the
horrid atmosphere of the plague
better subjects to film-and film
them he does! I'm tempted to say
something like, "This film exceeds
the grossness of 'Marat/Sade'," or
"If your stomach was turned by
so-and-so, wait 'til you see this,"
but there has never been any thing
as outlandish on the screen.
"Mother Joan of the Angels" wisely
stuck to one theme and succeeded,
but Russell's film is a genuine hell
on earth that boggles the mind.

Despite Russell's efforts to
achieve realism, the film is at best a
surrealistic fantasy. The sets
designed by Derek Jarman do not
suggest the seventeenth century,
but in their white austerity
resemble a futuristic nightmare.
Fellini considered "Satyricon" to
be a science fiction set in the past,
and that is an accurate description
for the feeling I had as I watched
the film.

The music composed by Peter
Maxwell Davies is ultra-modern,
and strangely reminiscent: of
modern operas, such as "Beatrix
Cenci" and, of course, "Devils of
Loudun." Russell's style in this film
could almost be considered
operatic. There are numerous
ensembles and ducts, but not
enough solo arias for Sister Jeanne
and Father Grandier.

Vanessa Redgrave, despite her
top-billing, is clearly a subordinate
character in the film, in both
function and importance and her
performance is adequate, although
she can't hold a flame to Glenda
Jackson when it comes to crawling
on the floor. Oliver Reed is
frequently very good, when Russell
has given him some lines that give
him a chance to act.

The minor roles are cast mainly
for appearance sake, although
Gemma Jones as Madeleine,
Grandier's wife, and Michael
Gothard as the chief exorcist,
Father Barre, are definitely
commendable in their
performances. Murray Melvin's
confessor Mignon is visually a
delight, a weasel of a man who
realizes the errors of his ways in the
last reel.

More so than "The Music
Lovers," Russell's "The Devils"
relies less on actors and plot and
more on the talents of the director.
"The Devils" owes its success to
Russell's success at creating a
nauseating atmosphere and
managing to build on it as the film
progresses. Not only are there the
wild fantasies of Sister Jeanne, the
plague, and Grandier's death at the
stake, but scenes of Louis XIII's
court life, which do little to
advance the plot. These scenes of
drag masques and senseless
amusements are hardly needed in
the film.

Why should anyone be surprised
that Russell is now directing
Twiggy in "The Boy Friend;"
musicals don't always offer much
plot, and Russell will have a holiday
finding atmosphere in the '20's.
The danger with Russell's apparent
trend in direction is that no matter
how arresting the films are in their
total depravity they become more
fantastic and harder to grasp, much
as Fellini's "Satyricon" was.

Russell will thus find himself
with a highly restricted audience,
becoming smaller with each new
film. "The Devils" could be either a
fantastic tour de force or the first
in a downhill Russell's
talents should not be lost, so let's
hope for the former.

(Now at the Cinema)