Greetings, Cinematic Fanatics! Allow me the pleasure of ushering you to a grand, well-endowed, upper-crust-- by invitation only-- elite socialite soiree of academics, anthropologists and benefactors, who stand in attendance, and through the dimly lit, grimly creature bit, throat slit, skull split with missing brain matter that will no longer, in the missing thalamic region, fit and a bloodbathroom crime scene that would make any desk clerk, museum guard, or rent-a-cop quit horror-laden corridors of this museum's delectably ornate pillars, priceless murals and grotesque happenings while we tunnel under and emerge, out the other side, to 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 cinephile. For your 18th episode, I review a resounding, pulse-pounding, evolutionary biologically slash scientifically confounding, creeping creature omnipresent, underfoot but overlooking, allthewhile surrounding, 90's monster, horror, disaster, slasher, science meld astounding. I have adored this film since my ole stomping ground dollar theatre I took the liberty of sneaking in, well under the required age of an R rated film, premiere theatre viewing. I confess to you, Cinematic Fanatics, here and fstars now, this flick is neither loved, nor revered by all, and some naysayers possess the Tom Sizemore balls and gall to besmirch the good name of this old relic flick, they claim it is formulaic and lame, the creature is far too tame; I consider their aspersions blasphemy and their lack of veneration for this violent, wicked ride of a film… a shame. This is a slick cinematic experience that touches a quartet of genres: horror, disaster, monster, 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. Sizemore is rarely the leading man and his coke/hooker addled life is far from ideal, but he commands the screen, every scene…he does steal, he goes toe-to-toe with the Kothoga, makes it squeal, and though he remains superstitious as fuck, he evades the creature, prevails, never once serves himself up as the creature's meal. This flick is super fstars slick, also based on a book, bringing the binding to page-defying, terrifying life-- filling with omniscient dread every curated nook, and when, of the monster, the film offered my first look, my blood congealed, I lost my breath and my heart god**** shook. I offer you, regarding this monstrous, horrific diversion, a chaotic Calisto Effect in full fstars bloom engendering a chimeric, mohawked wheezy-ass-lizard that strikes, spreads and stirs doom--once aflame, said creature will bring beautifully abhorrent light to the dark subbasement's gloom: The Relic, circa January 1997.

Enter, with me, you cinematic fanatics, into the realm of film's fantasy as we unwind the grind of reality… I offer you: Pick 18: Slick Flick Pick: Cautionary Reliquary-- Kothoga Has No Victim Quota (The Relic, 1997). Today, we'll discuss-- when to flash your badge as many times as you deem god**** necessary and risk an exhibit, how, a chimera's movements, to severely inhibit, why superstitious violations, Lt. D'Agosta will prohibit and how refreshing it must be to, from you’re a**hole superiors, not take any shi*.

- Your worthwhile cinephile: Falsetto Prophet

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