Cruel, perverse, repulsive, sacrilegious, and vulgar, The Devils dramatises a gruesome historical incident that occurred in 17th-century France when a priest was unjustly accused of sorcery and burnt alive on the evidence of a group of deluded nuns.
Cardinal Richelieu (Christopher Logue) and his power-hungry entourage seek to take control of France but need to destroy charismatic priest Father Urbain Grandier (Oliver Reed), who runs the small but well-fortified town of Loudun and prevents them from exerting total control.
Father Grandier falls in love with and secretly marries Madeleine (Gemma Jones), much to the fury of Sister Jeanne of the Angels (Vanessa Redgrave), the hunchbacked Mother Superior of the convent, who is sexually fixated on Father Grandier and – seeking revenge – accuses him of sorcery.
He has never set eyes on her; she has only seen him through the tiny grille in her cell. In her fantasies, he is Christ walking on water towards her, coming down off the Cross.
Hysteria ensues, leading to the spectacle of the nuns in Sister Jeanne’s convent becoming sex fiends.
During the long mass-hysteria sequence, director Ken Russell assails the audience with forced enemas that are staged like anal rapes, armies of half-naked nuns, money shots of said nuns gyrating atop a figure of Christ, and Sister Jeanne masturbating with a human bone.
Grandier’s political enemies then set out to destroy him by painting him as a warlock in control of a devil-possessed nunnery, and sadistic witch-hunter Father Pierre Barre (Michael Gothard) is brought in to gather evidence against the priest, ready for the big trial.
It is no great surprise to anyone when Grandier and Madeleine are arrested, Grandier must endure extreme torture as Baron de Laubardemont (Dudley Sutton) and Father Barre (looking for all the world like Mick Jagger in the wrong century) seek a full confession.
But Grandier proves he is of sterner stuff – the vilest tortures devised by man only serve to strengthen his will. Protesting his innocence to the last, he is taken to the marketplace and there publicly burnt alive.
Russell’s adaptation of Aldous Huxley’s The Devils of Loudun is repulsive, hysterical, disturbing, overwhelming, stunning, compelling and fascinating.
Predictably for a Ken Russell film, it’s the sex life of the priest, the writhing of the nuns, the crunch of breaking bones and the sizzling of the flames which dominate. For once, though, Russell’s surreal hallucinogenic style matches his frenzied material.
When Cardinal Richelieu is trying to persuade King Louis XIII (Graham Armitage) that while the provincial towns of France remain fortified the power of the central state is incomplete, his royal puppet is engaged in firing off a series of pistols at some unseen target, each shot followed by sycophantic applause.
It turns out to be a group of protestants dressed as blackbirds, released from wicker cages and picked off as they try to flap across a stretch of lawn to safety.
While it is not recorded whether Louis XIII did actually amuse himself by dressing up heretics and taking potshots at them, it is more or less certain that he was homosexual. It is highly doubtful, however, that he behaved as Graham Armitage behaves under Russell’s direction, like a drag queen in an East End pub.
In one of the most controversial and censored films of all time, Oliver Reed gives his best-ever performance as the priest destroyed by political manipulators.
The uncut version of The Devils is a mind-blowing, audacious endurance test.
Father Urbain Grandier
Oliver Reed Sister Jeanne of the Angels
Vanessa Redgrave Baron de Laubardemont
Dudley Sutton Ibert
Max Adrian Madeleine
Gemma Jones Mignon
Murray Melvin Father Barre
Michael Gothard Philippe
Georgina Hale Adam
Brian Murphy Cardinal Richelieu
Christopher Logue Louis XIII
Graham Armitage
Father Grandier falls in love with and secretly marries Madeleine (Gemma Jones), much to the fury of Sister Jeanne of the Angels (Vanessa Redgrave), the hunchbacked Mother Superior of the convent, who is sexually fixated on Father Grandier and – seeking revenge – accuses him of sorcery.
Grandier’s political enemies then set out to destroy him by painting him as a warlock in control of a devil-possessed nunnery, and sadistic witch-hunter Father Pierre Barre (Michael Gothard) is brought in to gather evidence against the priest, ready for the big trial.
Predictably for a Ken Russell film, it’s the sex life of the priest, the writhing of the nuns, the crunch of breaking bones and the sizzling of the flames which dominate. For once, though, Russell’s surreal hallucinogenic style matches his frenzied material.
While it is not recorded whether Louis XIII did actually amuse himself by dressing up heretics and taking potshots at them, it is more or less certain that he was homosexual. It is highly doubtful, however, that he behaved as Graham Armitage behaves under Russell’s direction, like a drag queen in an East End pub.
