The Devils review – Ken Russell’s 1971 possessed-nuns tale is a frenzied aria of confrontation and hysteria

Oliver Reed and Vanessa Redgrave deliver career-defining performances in this film, initially banned for indecency, which exposes the brutality inherent in authority.

"I could never be Satan's boy. I haven't the humility." This line is spoken by Father Urbain Grandier, a 17th-century French priest accused of witchcraft, portrayed with flair by Oliver Reed in Ken Russell's biting 1971 masterpiece. Now fully restored and re-released in its uncut form after years of censorship, the film hails from an era when movies in mainstream cinemas still had the capacity to jar audiences, thrust that jarring into polite cultural discourse, and provoke serious debate over whether such shock—or alternatively, a prohibition—was warranted.

The Devils draws from a true account of politically orchestrated mass hysteria, adapted by Russell from two literary sources: Aldous Huxley's The Devils of Loudun and John Whiting's stage play The Devils. Of course, it is indecent; indecency serves as the glowing, sulfurous paint Russell applies to his canvas. It deals with indecency—but the indecency lies not in the sexualized depictions of a crucified Christ or frolicking naked nuns; rather, it is the violence of power that is portrayed as obscene. The concept of martyrs or heretics being burned at the stake has long been an accepted fact in U-rated history lessons, a punishment that persisted well into the European Enlightenment. Russell shows what that might actually look like, and it entails a confrontational assault on propriety.