What. The. Fuck. Nurse 3D?
No, fucking seriously. What the fuck were you thinking? I have never (OK, I'm lying but it's for effect. Roll with it.) in my life seen such a half-assed piece of shit trying to pass itself off as an A-Grade horror film. This is C-Grade at best and I'll tell you why.
|Yeah... That's a sexy face. Uh-huh. Sure.|
|Are you talkin' to ME? I'll fuck yo' shit up.|
This being said, Crack-whore Supreme and Defender of the Pox-Ridden Brazilian Bikini Wax Paz De La Huerta slurs her way through trying to be all slinky and sexy and bisexual and shit, all the while being a serial killer that preys, specifically, on cheating husbands. And she has a crush on her nursing student trainee. Whose stepfather is cheating on her mother.
Ooooooooh. A plot. Kinda.
Hell. This movie was pure, 100%, no doubt about it, fucking Hell. If this was any more Hell, you would find lawyers and politicians groveling in their own waste and getting poked with pitchforks. It didn't even make up for it with a decent body count, except until the end, and even then, it was disappointing because all the victims were strapped down on gurneys.
People need to be hurt for this movie. The only bright spots it afforded me were the return of Judd Nelson and Kathleen Turner and their parts weren't even that big. If I had to stare at De La Huerta's freaky, lopsided titties any longer, I was going to hire a crack team of mercenary plastic surgeons to hunt her down and fix them. That shit ain't no joke, yo.
So, yeah. Skip this one with a song in your goddamn heart. Yuk.