The nature of art and its place in society is a question that has long plagued both scholars and artists alike. How far should art go? Is its role to preserve the status quo or push the envelope? In the case of a man like the infamous Marquis de Sade, whose cruel and pornographic writings titillated and repelled the public, these are questions still open for debate. The newest forum for these ideas is to be found in the film Quills, which offers a moderately fictionalized account of Sade's later years while exploring the effect his work had on those around him. Despite its provocative subject matter, the film doesn't rely on overt sexuality or depravity. Rather, it combines subtle eroticism and bawdy humor that escalate into tragedy in order to explore its powerful themes.

When Doug Wright approached his original play, he chose not to write a literal biography, but more of a symbolic one. His decision was a smart one, although purists may quibble with his manipulation of certain facts. He eschewed complete veracity for a looser manner of looking at his subject and he freely admits that he took a lot of poetic license. (Some of the story's most climactic moments never happened, although their symbolic intent is accurate.) Wright and Kaufman were more interested in asking the bigger question, that being: What is the nature of art and what happens when we silence the extremists? It's a question that, in today's subtle climate of censorship, is still intensely pertinent and powerful.

At the core of the film is the spirit of the Marquis de Sade, a larger than life soul who was both consumed by and condemned for his extreme views. Sade believed that virtue can only be experienced once one is familiar with vice, that man is riveted by turmoil (the evening news is proof of this) and that we are only truly alive when we experience real anguish. He lived his life as he preached in his work and his actions were to condemn him to prison for 27 years.

It is during one of Sade's incarcerations upon which Quills focuses. The Marquis de Sade (Geoffrey Rush) lives a privileged existence inside the walls of the Charenton Asylum run by the progressive priest Coulmier (Joaquim Phoenix). This civilized prison, Sade calms his demons by writing bawdy stories, which the virginal laundress Madeleine (Kate Winslet) smuggles out for publication. One of these manuscripts, the lusty "Justine" finds its way into the hands of Napoleon, who is appalled by its graphic content. To watch over Sade, Napoleon sends in Dr. Royer-Collard (Michael Caine). Where Coulmier's techniques at rehabilitation are insightful, allowing for freedom and kind tending, Royer-Collard resorts to more barbaric methods. His laboratory resembles nothing so much as a medieval torture chamber. Ironically, Sade eventually finds himself here, a place designed for pain, the one emotion that Sade freely embraces.

When Sade refuses to curtail his writing, he is denied any implements with which to write. Still, he manages to do so, using first a bed sheet, which Madeleine smuggles out, and then his own clothes. Like many artists, Sade is a man consumed by private demons, demons which need to be given a voice. It soon becomes clear that both Madeleine and Coulmier are entranced by the power of Sade's personality, as is he by their innocent flesh. Meanwhile, Madeleine and Coulmier endure their own torture in each other's presence. Sade's ever-present passions awaken their own, forcing them to struggle with an attraction that can never be consummated. It's this interplay -- both intellectual and sexual -- that forms the foundation of the film and serves as a jumping off point for some intensely provocative arguments as well as more than a little jarring imagery. This is by no means a film for the squeamish or the provincially minded. It tackles its subject graphically, grandly portraying the hideous squalor of the asylum and the even more tragic disintegration of Sade, Coulmier and Madeleine.

To this day, the Marquis de Sade is the embodiment of every man or woman who went against the grain, who incited in order to illuminate. He is also the epitome of the tortured artist, a man who has seen so much violence that he knows no other way to live than to expunge the dark corners of his soul on paper. As realized by Geoffrey Rush, Sade is a complex individual, a man of opposites like his writing -- pleasure and pain, courage and terror, supreme intellect and insane ranting. While much of the film is based on dramatization, Sade's character is right on the money and Rush's dauntless performance is Oscar caliber.

While we may be repulsed by the Marquis de Sade, we also may find ourselves inexplicably drawn to his dark depictions of the human mind. For Sade, in his deepest, darkest soul, saw into the souls of all men. He knew that darkness and light exist side by side. He was simply fearless enough to say it, in the most tantalizing and offensive ways, at a time when his ideas were considered blasphemy. While some may vilify his depravity, his courage -- like those of many modern artists -- to expose human nature at its most base must be celebrated and protected.