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Date Posted: 13:11:31 12/24/02 Tue
Author: ellee
Author Host/IP: 12-228-116-73.client.attbi.com / 12.228.116.73
Subject: Re: found my notes
In reply to: ellee 's message, "Re: quills?" on 13:00:10 12/24/02 Tue

these were scribbled in the dark as the film washed through me so forgive the halting manner...

"Succumb...I dare you...turn the page!"

"You know as well as I that you're not to entertain visitors in your quarters."
"But I'm entertaining you now, aren't I?"
"Yes, but I'm not a beautiful young prospect, ripe for corruption."
"Don't be so sure..."

"It's quite a potent aphrodisiac, isn't it dumpling...? Having power over another man..."

" Conversation, like certain portions of the anatomy, always runs more smoothly when lubricated. "

"In order to know virtue, we must acquaint ourselves with vices."

"You can't be a proper writer without a touch of madness, can you?"

"I write what I see, the endless procession to the guillotine. We're all lined up, waiting for the crunch of the blade... the rivers of blood are flowing beneath our feet... I've been to hell young man, you've only read about it. "

" Why should I love God? He strung up his only son like a side of veal. I shudder to think what he'd do to me. "

oh goodness does the above quote shake me


Find me someone younger than forty who knows what a quill is, and they may well benefit from this film. Better yet, find me someone in that cherished target audience of 18-35 who has used a quill, and they may well swoon at the wonder and human depth of Quills.

This film deserves as many lauds as do those that provoke empathetic tears for saccharine hubris, commonly anointed several months later with a shiny golden dildo. In fact, Quills deserves more. It is not a film to be ogled at; calling one’s friends immediately after and stating plot points as if they were a life you’d dream of dying. No! Quills is a film to be placed in one’s hand, and hoisted over one’s head to shine in the sunbathed glory it unabashedly deserves. This film has balls... of fire, of laughter, and, yes, of sex. Tawdry tales-weaving at its finest. The cloth of clergy and of sin, each stained with the same nectar. Prose. In one hand the Bible, in the other, Justine. Each burning smoke of passion.

I have written of the film
I do not wish to blah blah on about the actors who were magnificent
but finally! A film that stands alone
In spite of or in front of the mere players presenting its pleasures

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