Nunsploitation (pt. II)

The Devils

Change of Habit

Bless you, dear readers. We gather at this holy blog for another round of Nunsploitation films—a subgenre of exploitation that I am learning to love more and more—from its salaciously exaggerated Italian roots to its modern, more mainstream iterations. I don’t know why I’m so fascinated by nuns and religion in general. Maybe it stems from the fact that I didn’t grow up very religious, or perhaps it comes from my childhood (and forever) love of Greek mythology. I’m also drawn to nun narratives because while I’m not a religious person, I could totally get behind the idea of living with a sisterhood of kind people, where we spend our days helping people instead of worrying about taxes and emails. I hope this is not horribly offensive to nuns or those who identify as religious, but if you took out the god part of being a nun, I would absolutely be down for it. I’m like, two more bad dates away from trying it. Let’s just trade out the bible for a new book like, every other week and discuss that while we cloister ourselves away from larger society’s bullshit. And maybe we’re allowed to use our phones without special permission. Just spit-ballin here. The nuns on screen here tonight were not average, as with most nuns on screen, and though they came from different eras and almighty creators, they were all pretty groovy. Last time I covered Nunsploitation, I barely scratched the surface of this rich and oft-sacrilegious subgenre, and my research led me to discover countless other films of nun nature that I immediately added to my watchlist. One of those films was Ken Russell’s 1971 film The Devils—a dramatized historical account of the rise and fall of Urbain Grandier (Oliver Reed), a 17th-century Roman-Catholic priest who was accused of witchcraft by Sister Jeanne des Agnes (Vannessa Redgrave). Adapted from a mix of Aldous Huxley’s non-fiction book The Devils of Loudun and John Whiting’s play The Devils, Russell’s film is a wild and ambitious imagining of not just this insane true story, but of the insane depths that religious zeal can reach. We follow Grandier’s story just as the Governor of Loudun, France has died, and this famous and handsome priest is set to take his place. All of the women of Loudun desire Grandier (and his Jemaine Clement aesthetic), particularly the nuns of the Ursuline convent, and especially their hunchbacked and horny Reverend Mother, Jeanne des Agnes. Like any compelling cinematic priest, Grandier is a tortured and conflicted holy man, and he’s also a bit lustful. But after impregnating a fellow priest’s daughter, and shortly after meeting a sweet, hopeful townsperson named Madeleine De Brou (Gemma Jones), he seems to abandon his hobby of womanizing to focus on love, the Lord, and loving the Lord. But Sister Jeanne, sexually-repressed and madly in love with this priest she’s never met, is thrown into a tizzy of biblical proportions upon hearing of Grandier and Madeleine’s secret marriage—causing her to have visions of Grandier as Jesus, where she licks the blood from his hands and freshly-crucified body. Sister Jeanne was already fairly troubled, though, with her violent and sexual fantasies even resulting in self-stigmata and nearly swallowing her rosary. The newly-reformed rebel priest has more on his plate than just sexually-frustrated nuns—as his town faces demolition from Baron Jean de Laubardemont, he must venture off to see King Louis XIII and beg for this destruction to cease. In his absence, Sister Jeanne accuses Grandier of witchcraft, and the men waiting for Grandier’s downfall take this as an opportunity to gather evidence, and prove that this Reverend Mother and the rest of her convent have been possessed by “devils”, at the hand of this priest. With the help of a “professional witch hunter”, the I Hate Grandier Club attempts to exorcise the demons from Sister Jeanne and her fellow nuns—resulting in some of the most bewilderingly bonkers, erotically-charged scenes I’ve ever seen. I shan’t give away all of their sins here, but the horny nuns in The Devils make the horny nuns in Black Narcissus seem like upstanding, perfectly asexual nuns—as Sister Jeanne and her sisters are all swiftly stripped of their morals, inhibitions, and clothes in the name of serving Satan. Between the medieval dildos, the grotesque and gory bubonic plague makeup, and the orgies of naked, vomiting, demon-worshipping, candle-jerking-off nuns, The Devils provides a frenetically-edited visual feast that might be too much for some to handle. But, as a sicko, these were my favorite elements of the film. For these reasons, and some that I didn’t have time to mention, it makes perfect sense why this film was banned, given an X-rating, and why it is still hard to track down to this day. But at the same time, even if none of these events actually took place as they filmed them, The Devils is still a fairly reasonable depiction of religious, political, and spiritual corruption—which has most certainly existed throughout human history. The only thing more powerful than god and the devil is the idea of them, and The Devils really took a sick pleasure in portraying this phenomenon. It’s easy to boil The Devils down to its chaotic hedonism and unfettered displays of nudity and violence, but its darkly clever writing, as well as its stunning set pieces and costuming, stood out just as much to this critic. I’m sure there’s more to take away from this film than just “damn y’all will blame your blasphemy on anything”, but I walked away from The Devils even more aware of the way religion is still weaponized and used as a way to justify terrible things. One thing that I did not need reassurance of, though, is the star quality of Mary Tyler Moore and Elvis, and yet, that’s what I was reminded of in the next film that I watched: William A. Graham’s 1969 “crime-drama-comedy-musical” Change of Habit. This is a film that my mom has been begging me to watch since my Elvis double feature last year, and while it was far from the roller coaster ride of The Devils, its script still managed to keep me entertained, and keep me guessing. Change of Habit, like The Devils, was borne out of multiple versions of the same story, and follows three catholic nuns who are sent to a neighborhood clinic in New York City as undercover missionaries. Not long after meeting Sister Michelle (Mary Tyler Moore), Sister Irene (Barbara McNair), and Sister Barbara (Jane Elliot) we witness how differently they are treated once they change their habits out for regular clothes—after a somewhat sexy costume-changing scene set to an Elvis song, these sisters go from respected to disrespected in a matter of seconds. For whatever reason, these sisters have to immerse themselves in their work and their new communities, and remain undetected as nuns while they casually try to improve the neighborhood. It’s a premise strange enough to make Elvis’ pelvic-thrusting-presence seem downright normal—though he can’t help but stand out as the kind local doctor and friend to the hippies who also plays guitar and sings. When Dr. Elvis (his character does have a name but that’s not important) first meets these nuns-in-disguise, he assumes they’re all in need of abortions, but they quickly correct him and explain that they’ve been sent by the church to help him out. The rest of the film shows these quiet nurse’s plight(s) to integrate into this loud and diverse neighborhood as they assist Dr. Elvis, protest the price-gouging bodega, and throw a block party for the mostly Hispanic community. Along the way they learn quite a few things about the world outside their convent, and Dr. Elvis learns to love the very religious and hard-to-get Sister Michelle. Change of Habit was meant to be a part of Elvis’ “comeback”, but it was also the last film that he ever starred in—which must’ve been shocking to Elvis’ fans, particularly the ones who consider this silly movie to be a “drama”. Filmed after The Dick Van Dyke Show but before The Mary Tyler Moore Show, Mary Tyler Moore’s star was only rising at this point, and apparently, she was the only leading lady of Elvis’ that he did not sleep with. There were several surprising moments in Change of Habit, beyond the guitar-playing, slack-jawed, surprisingly decent acting performance Elvis gave. This film features a neighborhood full of Black and Hispanic people, and while there were several problematic moments involving them, it seemed that most if not all of these roles were actually played by people of color—which was an ultra-rarity at that time. Additionally, randomly, Change of Habit is the first film made in the West that ever spoke about Autism—albeit with an obviously outdated idea of it. Still, I never expected to hear Elvis Presley say the words, “That child is Autistic”. This moment, and too many others to list, were inadvertently shocking and hilarious, just as when Mary Tyler Moore says, somewhat unprompted, “The fact that I’m a nun doesn’t stop me from being a woman.” Change of Habit is more akin to Sister Act than any other nunsploitation affair, but it was surprisingly fun, and surprisingly rebellious in its own right. Forgive me, reader, for I have written too much, but that’s only because I’m endlessly fascinated by nuns, and the very curious ways they’ve been portrayed on screen. I pray at the altar of movies—good and bad, nuns or not—and I hope you’ll join me for cinematic church again next week!