The Catholic church can’t catch a break these days. Their credibility is so shot that everyone’s wondering if there’s some sinister hidden reason for why Pope Benedict XVI gave his two-weeks notice (he’s the first pope to quit the job since the year 489 B.C.). He says that his health isn’t good, but John Paul II wasn’t exactly Jack Lalanne and he managed to stay Pope right up to the end. I can’t think of a more fragile-looking human than him. For the past ten years of his life, old John Paul II looked like a lowercase letter “r” with a hat. He looked like a strong wind might kill him. You can never be too old and sick to be Pope. You just can’t. There’s something funny going on with this Pope Benedict character, I can feel it. My best guess: He saw Nude Nuns With Big Guns. It was the last straw.
It’s about this beautiful nun who goes on a killing spree after her drug-smuggling church gives her away to a biker gang as an apology for a dope exchange that went wrong. The gang keep her naked and dazed on heroin all the time so they can prostitute her out. She eventually escapes and gets revenge. Bullets fly, blood pours, heads get crushed, lesbians make out, naked nuns cut and bag heroin powder, the pope retires. Makes sense to me.
Director/co-writer Joseph Guzman is straight from the Tarantino school of flashy violence with a sense of humor. Three minutes don’t go by here without a freeze frame, a split screen, a zoom lens, or a stylized tint, pretty much all of it gratuitous and to the tune of a spaghetti western-style score. And when we don’t get that, Guzman throws some naked girls at us. It’s not perfect, but it deliveries the groceries just fine when it comes to the sleaze. I’ll take it.