Greetings, Cinematic Fanatics! Allow me the bodyguarding, chauffeuring--16 times cockblocked in 16 blocks of gridlocked traffic-- sacred, shady cop shield duty of securing the metaphorical witness of your attention and maintaining your attention for however long it takes my overage, overweight, shuffling on one good leg, and a floundering liver, self to usher you the distance of 16 blocks to your cinematic court date destination, our method of transport… another suspense sustaining, witness incessantly complaining Slick Flick Pick, an entertaining, slick/flick-explaining series, a desirable diversion from the main vein of Chemohawk Sessions. You are my Cinematic Fanatic; I, your worthwhile f****** cinephile. For your 16th episode, I review a briskly burning formulaic formula-addled, with a few surprises sprinkled upon this cinematic confection, this crime, action, thriller flick that was both critically and financially mixed, but when you immerse yourself in this slick flick, you remain transfixed, by the solid performances, particularly a rough looking Bruce who drinks his on-on-the-clock cocktails straight and unmixed. I have adored this film since my, in the company of three amigos at the time, initial theatre viewing. I admit this flick is far from perfect and distanced from pristine, but it does not shy from revealing streets that are gritty, far from pretty, and a collection of coppers most unclean. This is a slick cinematic experience that touches a trilogy of genres: crime, action, thriller. It transitions so seamlessly between genres and oft simultaneously, in such a way, that you process it as a simple study in filmmaking sleekness.

I offer you, regarding this straight-forward on winding, squalor-rife-streets, claustrophobic, ramshackle buildings and crumbling crawl spaces, jagged alleyways and overpeopled subway tunnels efficient action/thriller, the flick's witness, who initially seems witless, Eddie bunker, may have been a highs school b-ball dunker or possibly a flunker, but by the end of this slick flick, he will be a cake-maker baker; Jack Mosely pours on-the-clock liquor from the middle shelf in the company of a top shelf cast: 16 Blocks, circa March 2006. Recline, Cinematic Fanatics, in your favorite well-worn, stale chair, rustle up some popcorn, fresh as fstars, the antithesis to that stale a** chair, I just mentioned, zoom in and zone out as I unwind the daily grind with a slick f****** flick pick. 16 Blocks is the flick, so very slick, hence my fstars pick! When Slick Flick Pick is near, stick around, till, Falsetto Prophet's voice, you hear. Lights... camera...action... lends distraction and, with the right Slick Flick Pick, grants satisfaction. I am your worthwhile cinephile; you're my cinematic fanatics; together, we, excitement unlock and run down the real world's unimaginative fstars clock while feasting our eyes on this slick-flick-pick prize.

Enter, with me, you cinematic fanatics, into the realm of film's fantasy as we unwind the grind of reality… I offer you: Pick 16: Slick Flick Pick: Save the Witness who Talks Less (Via Violence, They'll Silence); (16 Blocks, 2006). Today, we'll discuss-- how to keep your calm, wits and temper when transporting a garrulous con who can't stop talking, how to cross every major street without jaywalking, how to thwart corrupt cops who, you, they're stalking, and my lingering recommendation to change the film's title to 16 Minutes of Testimony Blocking or 16 Narrow A** Escapes.

- Your worthwhile cinephile: Falsetto Prophet

P.S. (Procrastinated Statement) *Intro/outro song, Soulicious, courtesy of the artist, Dyalla.