In this retelling of the aftermath of the French Revolution, Weiss delves into the persistent conflict between social classes, focusing on the aristocrats or privileged elite and the destitute lower class. He portrays a grim scenario. The eagerly awaited French Revolution has taken place. Heads have literally rolled, and governmental changes have been enacted. However, the question lingers: have things genuinely transformed, or has the new leadership simply adopted the ways of the former aristocracy? The play scrutinizes the actions of those in power and their treatment of the impoverished. Although there have been slight improvements, they do not justify the lives lost during the revolution.

The church is criticized for siding with the ruling class by urging the poor to seek solace in God and find virtue in their suffering. The play suggests that churches should be transformed into schools to make a positive societal contribution. The lives of the new leadership are examined, revealing a familiar pattern. Those who might have started with noble intentions often become corrupt once they gain power. Power corrupts, and greed follows. Wealth remains concentrated among the few who control society, perpetuating the cycle of the rich getting richer while the poor become poorer.

These themes unfold within the surreal setting of an insane asylum, where three key factions, represented by Marat, Sade, and Coulmier, debate the era's realities and issues. Meanwhile, the inmates grow restless, threatening the institution's stability. Coulmier, symbolizing the status quo and those in authority, consistently defends the current system, emphasizing improvements; he feels most threatened by the patients' disorderliness, who represent the impoverished masses. Weiss draws parallels between the oppressed poor and the confined patients to highlight that inequality existed not only during the French Revolution but in all social contexts—even in micro-environments like the power dynamics of an insane asylum.

Weiss, who held many communist sympathies, infuses socialist ideology into the events he depicts. He illustrates the theory that oppressed individuals will rise to enhance their conditions. In the play within the play, the actors/patients commend Marat's revolutionary efforts but also criticize him for not going far enough. They demand ongoing rebellion until genuine change is achieved. While these exhortations appear directed at Marat and the post-revolution situation, they can be equally applied beyond the context of Sade's play. Criticism is also aimed at the ruling class of French society, represented by the audience members visiting the asylum. More specifically, the patients' calls for change target the asylum director, whose attempts at progressive therapy are acknowledged but who could do much more to improve life within the asylum.

The central conflict in Marat/Sade is not primarily between the patients and Coulmier, but rather between the contrasting philosophies of Sade and Marat. As the playwright within the play, Sade directly challenges Marat and his beliefs. Their confrontation symbolizes the tension between tangible reality and the world of ideas.

Marat is a firm believer in the transformative power of ideas and ideals. Although he occasionally feels limited by language, he remains a strong advocate for its importance. Words represent concepts, and Marat insists that he has not relied on empty rhetoric to avoid taking action. While words can sway the public, opinion is fickle, and both Marat and his ideas can be easily disregarded. Although his theories inspired many, Marat's revolutionary ideals did not extend far enough to prevent history from repeating itself. The patients demand immediate change, exclaiming, "We want the revolution NOW." The impoverished and marginalized urge Marat to move beyond intellectualism and bring about tangible change through action. The play questions whether the pen...

In the play, the traditional lines between the stage and the audience are deliberately obscured. Coulmier often disrupts Sade's play to critique its themes, while Sade himself makes interruptions, engaging Marat in debates about the mind and body. For the actual audience, unlike the onstage audience depicted by Coulmier and his family, the inmates' performances as they take on various roles in Sade's drama are notably disturbing and surreal. It's uncertain whether their behavior is dictated by the Marquis's script and direction or driven by their own chaotic impulses. Similarly, the actors' revolutionary cries remain ambiguous. Weiss doesn't clarify whether these calls are directed at the events within Sade's play, at Coulmier and his social class, or at the real audience. Many theorists argue that the specific target is less important as long as the message is effectively communicated.

The confrontation between Sade and Marat serves as a dramatic exploration of conflicting ideologies. Central to this debate is the question of the effectiveness and implications of social upheaval, specifically within the context of the French Revolution. Marat emerges as a fervent proponent of collective action aimed at societal reform. His revolutionary fervor positions him as a romantic activist and proto-Marxist, advocating for human-defined absolutes of value.

In stark contrast, Sade, who once championed revolutionary ideals, now retreats into a realm of anarchic individualism. Viewing social evil as an inherent human flaw rather than a systemic problem, Sade's perspective is rooted in a nihilistic solipsism that distances him from both outrage and hopelessness. His detached cynicism places him at odds with Marat’s passionate activism, representing a broader philosophical dichotomy: the clash of action against imagination, progress against inertia, and communism against anarchism.

Their dialogue encapsulates more than just individual philosophies; it embodies historical and ideological contrasts such as commissar versus yogi and Marxist revolutionary figures against the psychoanalytic thinkers like Freud, Jung, and Klein. This interplay of ideas highlights the enduring tension between striving for collective progress and embracing individual skepticism.

In an illuminating 1966 article for The New York Times Magazine, Peter Weiss articulated his strong alignment with communist ideologies and his commitment to using theater as a vehicle for messaging. He asserted, “Even if I had the most brilliant theatrical idea, I would not turn it into a play . . . if I could not also make it express a message.” This declaration underscores his belief in the power of drama to convey ideological themes, a principle he demonstrated in his handling of Marat/Sade.

Weiss expressed a clear preference for the East German interpretations of Marat/Sade, where Marat was depicted as the hero, aligning with socialist ideals, while Sade's role was minimized as a symbol of the failing Western ethos. This contrast between Eastern and Western stagings highlights Weiss's ideological commitments and his desire for his work to reflect and promote a specific worldview. In Western productions, however, the focus often shifted, casting Sade as the central figure, thereby altering the political commentary inherent in Weiss's original vision.

In the fascinating interplay of characters within the play "Marat/Sade," critics frequently observe a pronounced tilt towards the character of Sade. Whether explored through the varied textual iterations refined by Weiss between 1963 and 1965 or through the vivid interpretations of Peter Brook in London and Ingmar Bergman in Stockholm, Sade’s dominance is a recurrent theme. His incisive grasp of the intricate link between cruelty and sensuality equips him with the rhetorical prowess to outmaneuver the rigid and fervent Marat in their ideological clashes.

This dynamic is especially evident in the climactic moments of the narrative, underscoring Sade's ascendancy. Just before Corday’s pivotal third visit, Marat is enveloped in doubt, pondering aloud his growing confusion: "Why is everything so confused now/ Why does everything sound false.” His assassination abruptly halts his revolutionary ambitions, and with Napoleon's rise, the Revolution itself is stifled. The once fervent cheers for figures like Danton, Robespierre, and Marat seamlessly transfer to Napoleon, marking a significant shift in the revolutionary tide.

Ultimately, the play’s phantasmagoric conclusion leaves Sade as the sole figure basking in satisfaction, a subtle yet potent indication of his enduring influence and the narrative’s implicit endorsement of his worldview over Marat’s thwarted ideals.

Marat/Sade, a play steeped in complexity, leaves audiences grappling with numerous unresolved questions. Despite Peter Weiss's declared support for Marat’s revolutionary ideals, he paradoxically gifts the character of Sade with the more compelling dialogues, creating a tension between the ideologies presented. As viewers, we are prompted to ask why Weiss chooses to portray Marat's fervor for change alongside the chaotic forces of irrational violence that threaten to undermine his cause.

Weiss further complicates this narrative by allowing the central debate between Marat and Sade to be overshadowed by what can only be described as theatrical chaos. The encounters between the two figures unfold within the confines of a madhouse, where mad actors oscillate between their characters and their own deranged selves. This setting not only blurs the lines between sanity and madness but also reflects the broader philosophical conflict within Weiss himself.

At the heart of this conflict is Weiss’s dual identity: the radical political propagandist driven by a desire to incite social change, and the absurdist playwright who is acutely aware of humanity’s potential for brutality and self-destruction. This internal struggle permeates the play, inviting audiences to ponder the nature of revolution and the darker impulses that lie within the human psyche.