The Killer Nun

Review by Vince Brusio

Giulio Berruti directs this cult flick that's a poop smear on the face of Christianity. Hate speech at the altar starts this 87-minute feature, complete with restored footage, and a cast that features none other than La Dolce Vita bombshell, Anita Ekberg. Rosary clad hands plead to a confessional about revenge when the picture comes into focus. Me thinks this is toxic death-think. Blasphemy! The face of the pleading nun is hidden, but our educated guess tells us it's the same Siamese Cat who's the star of this fright fest.

This being a nun exploitation flick, here are my expectations: I want this movie to give me a hard-on. Let's be clear about that. I want to soil some Kleenex, so all devout religious types are now excused to leave the room and pray for my soul (what's left of it, anyway). We shall start gagging the church-herders should they be heard praying while I'm watching this sickness that's "based on actual events that took place in a Central European country not many years ago." But if the prayers start leading into song, I'm breaking out the shotgun. Be warned. I'm not right, and don't pretend to be.

The Plot:
Sister Gertrude takes depraved pleasure in treating people cruelly while she walks around stoned on morphine.

The Actors (worth mentioning):
Besides Anita Ekberg, Joe Dallesandro of Andy Warhol's Frankenstein fame; Alida Valli (Suspiria); and scrumptious shapely Paola Morra (Behind Covent Walls).

The Dirt:
Bare minimum T & A shots of Paola Morra. Bizarre, surreal scenes that represent Sister Gertrude's depraved drug euphoria. Gratifying cruelty towards people who don't deserve it.

Absent a gratuitous amount of sleaze, The Killer Nun does offer deliciously tortured music. The soundtrack is the liquor best worth mentioning for this film. A demonic steamroller that mashes children on a playground is one way to describe the audio agony. I thought that the symphony of sickness throughout this flick was its most redeeming quality, and should be used as a reference for future film students.

Despair is really the main course for the movie. If you can imagine a drill bit boring into your temples, you can picture Sister Gertrude's tormented mind screaming for more, more, more morphine for her headaches! "I'm not well!" she pleads. Resident doctor Hey,-It's-All-In-Your-Mind says, Tough shit, sister. It's all psychosomatic. But this doesn't sit well with the woman of God. So she becomes the ultimate hypocrisy in white when she sells her jewelry to buy more of the devil's daiquiri. She is, after all, a junkie for God with no guilt, and no shame.

Try to deny this blasphemous bitch her medicine, and she'll knock your dentures off the dinner table and crush them under her boot heels! This actually happens in the film, and it makes for some of the funniest sadism throughout the picture. Some poor grandma that puts her teeth in a glass at the dinner table watches as Sister Gertrude casts the chattering teeth to the floor, and stomps on them repeatedly in her whacked morphine delirium. Ho! Too late for Polident! Guess Grandma won't be doing any toothpaste commercials.

Ack! I grabbed for a Kleenex. Unzipped my Levis. Possible Lesbo action? Is carpet munching on the menu?

Sister Gertrude sits up in her bed, and tells the nude Sister Mathieu, "Put them on, or I'll beat you! You're a little whore!"

And then the scene ends. No muff dive. No gratuitous 69 that would send the director to Hell. We simply move on with the rest of this depraved odyssey.

Shit.

Vince Brusio is a publisher of underground comics. Visit him on the web at undergroundstore.50megs.com

This review is Copyright (C) 2005 Vince Brusio. Used with permission.

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