★½
“Nunacceptable.”
On seeing the title and poster (which looks suspiciously AI-generated, and I know AI-generated warrior nun imagery) for this, I immediately knew two things. Firstly, I had to review it for the site. And secondly, it was going to suck like an Electrolux. And, verily, the prophecies did come to pass. Here is the review, and it is, indeed, pretty terrible. Chris’s sarcasm did flow mightily, and I’m going to have watch a large number of episodes of Anthony Bourdain’s No Reservations with her, to make up for this abomination. Not that there isn’t scope for an interesting story, involving a cadre of warrior nuns, seeking revenge for a long-past atrocity. It’s just that this is not that movie. Indeed, it’s barely a movie at all.
The three Sisters of No Mercy here (have I used that joke before? It feels vaguely familiar) are Mary (Wunna), Sarah (Rakhvalova) and Eva (Legallais-Moha), operating under the guidance of a priest (Kouros), and seeking to find those responsible for the 1992 massacre of an orphanage. Quite why they have waited so long before embarking on this mission is unclear, as is why they insist on questioning people far too young to have been in any way involved. Except possibly as orphans. They gradually work their way up the chain, in scenes which are excruciating only in their lack of pacing to find the man supposedly at the top, Victor Vargas. Only to find – gasp! – there’s one final twist as to who was behind the incident, and its purpose.
There’s about enough material in this for a quarter-hour short. It actually runs ninety-eight glacial minutes. The difference is filled with scenes in which one of the nuns walks into a room in her underwear and puts on her nun attire, with no sense of urgency at all. Seriously, if there’s one of these scenes, there’s at least six of them. They are seen lounging by the pool in bikinis once, so I’m not going to claim the title is entirely inaccurate. But I feel that Nunderwear would have been more appropriate. I will defer to the experts over at Nunsploitation.Net to pick apart the film’s accuracy, for things like nun accessories worn inside out, etc. I wasn’t expecting accuracy, or even anything convincing.
But, if I may be forgiven an appropriately religious appeal: Christ, this is dull. Witness the strip poker scene which had us wondering if we had misunderstood the whole purpose of the game. I mean, why do you need poker chips? Don’t you bet with your clothes? Isn’t that the point? If the makes had actually bought wholesale into the premise, and had fun with it, this could have worked. There is a tension between Old Testament vengeance, and New Testament forgiveness, which could have been fertile ground for exploitatative exploration. Instead, this would have had more energy if performed by a troupe of sloths. Blasphemy has never been so dull.
Dir: Sushank Kini
Star: Chrissie Wunna, Clara Legallais-Moha, Christopher Kouros, Anna Rakhvalova


When you think of the martial art form known as Muay Thai, New Jersey is probably not the first place to come to mind. But it’s in the town of Toms River, on the Jersey Shore, that Prairie Rugilo set up an all-women’s gym with the aim of teaching students Muay Thai. It began as occasional classes she taught in the Brick Police Athletic League, but demand allowed her to set up her own, dedicated space. If you don’t know, Muay Thai is described here as “the art of eight limbs”, which personally, raises more questions than it answers. What are the other four limbs? Was it developed by Thai spiders? Let’s just call it a form of kickboxing, and move on.*
For a good while, this struggled to retain my interest, and when it did, the problems outweighed the positive aspects. Fortunately, after a solid hour of faffing around in ways that provoked mostly rolling of my eyes, the film found its stride. That’s funny, because it’s a running reference. Ok, not very funny. Down the stretch it both figuratively and literally pushes the pedal to the metal, in quite an impressive manner. My reaction was divided. Part of me wondered, where the heck this was earlier on? However, rather than petering out like a sad trombone, there’s no question it’s better for a film to finish strongly, and give the viewers something positive to take away with them.
This is distinctly a film of two halves. The first is undeniably more impressive, taking the revenge motif and going in an interesting, and at least somewhat novel, direction. However, not long after the half-way point, the script decides to change direction radically. This leaves behind the grounded entity which we’ve had so far, in favour of something with distinct supernatural tendencies. I’m not averse to these per se. Yet they’re an ill fit with what has gone before, and need to be integrated considerably better. Then, things derail completely for the finale, pulling things out of nowhere to achieve a solution, in a gobbet of exposition that completely lost my interest. So, probably 3½ stars for the first half, 1½ for the second.
Marni (Johnson) is stuck in the titular town, where oil fracking is causing problems from earthquakes to poisoning the local water supply. She’s barely scraping by as a single mom to teenage son Jason (Strange), working as a bartender for sleazy owner Daryl (McMahan), who has a bad case of wandering hands, and hustling customers at pool. Her life is upended when Steph (Carpenter) comes into the bar, kicks Marni’s ass on the pool table, and the two end up making out in the back alley. When Steph becomes aware of Darryl’s safe full of cash, she suggests they liberate it, to finance a new life for them and Jason, far away from Extraction.
While this is an excellent and very original premise for a novella series, though, the execution of it here has to be called somewhat lackluster. Lilly’s prose style tends to be repetitive, both in language (and in using character’s names over again where a pronoun would serve her better) and in ideas, with points often being restated or reemphasized in the same paragraph when it’s not needed; she also has a tendency to tell when there would be more effective ways of showing. Some attempt was made at editing, but the proofreading was poor (there are only a few typos as such, but I finally deduced that the three or four bracketed repetitions of a sentence in different words were vestiges of textual corrections that weren’t edited out in the final draft!).
Indeed, that would make a fine “Matilda Lutz overcomes impalement to take vengeance” double-bill with this. The reboot isn’t bad at all. It certainly is miles better than the eighties version, mostly because of Lutz. She may not be quite as muscular or buxom as the comic-book version. But she does bring the required intensity, and that goes a decent way to making this watchable. The supporting cast are good too, although I was less convinced by the plot in general, which is little more than a grab-bag of clichés. We begin with the quick slaughter of Sonja’s village, then see the adult Sonja (Lutz) roaming the forests of Hyrkania. These are under threat from Emperor Dragan (Sheehan) and his psycho sidekick, Annisia (Day).
The title above is the one by which it appeared on Tubi, though everywhere else calls it Aggression. I guess both are appropriate, in different ways. Neither shed a great deal of light on proceedings here. Then again, you could argue, the film itself is largely deficient in the area of enlightenment too. It takes place in rural France, where Sarah (Nicklin) has been reunited with her sister Marie (Duchez), after twelve years living in England. The circumstances are not happy, the visit being the result of their father’s death. However, there appears to be a dark past surrounding the circumstances of Sarah’s departure. Meanwhile, Marie is mute, although this does not play into the scenario which unfolds.
We return to the prolific well of Jeff Profitt, last seen here with
I’ve seen worse films, to be quite clear. Technically, this is perfectly acceptable, with an apparently reasonable budget, put to decent use. But I don’t think I’ve seen one which has been more