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Pick 27: Slick Flick Pick: Yautja vs. Yakuza--When Old-World Meets Otherworld (Predators, 2010)
Greetings, Cinematic Fanatics! Allow me the pleasure of ushering you through the dense jungle thicket of a quasi-terrestrial hunting parcel of dreadlocked, Berserker alien land where the air is, in fact, breathable, human skull trophies retrievable, poisonous flora and grotesque fauna conceivable, if you're hip to the garden variety predator, this Berserker breed remains believable, but surviving here seems far removed from achievable and the hunting pack of predator tusked-bloodhounds remains both imperceivable and unbelievable. These hunting grounds are designed for human apex predator sheep, you'll see a white light then free fall whilst asleep, this new breed of warriors creep as well as they leap, they'll shadow, stalk you, appear, linger and disperse all without one peep; they've amassed, of human and other species' skulls, an impressive heap atop this gruesome pyramid discovery of bones, blood and DNA unknown; I offer a crash cushion pad for this fallen Yakuza samurai to fall upon when he bequeaths his life to the greater good of dwindling comrades, enacting the code of death before dishonor, dismemberment and being divorced from your skull and spine in this otherworldly, planetary, tropical trophy treat of 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 27th episode, Othello and I review one of our most prized entries in the Predator franchise, a sequel that still owns the screen, secures
my attention, shocks my senses with its ability to mesmerize-- you'll laser focus, not blink your eyes, though all we can do-- discerning their origins-- is theorize, we will NOT believe the bad doctor, Edwin's lies, and while this film is familiar comfort flick fanfare, there's still surprise to be felt by this flick's power to, our attention snare and its unrelenting prowess to scare. One of the armored trifecta pilots a falcon drone, the other sports tusks picked from slain bloodhound bone, but their leader, the blacked-out Berserker, proves twice as vicious when left all alone.
I offer you, regarding this tried, but still quite true, Predator world building, culture expanding, littered with colorfully barbaric fatalities last true Predator sequel that offers firm finality to a loosely attached trilogy with Predators, circa July 2010. While the cast is overtly type cast, they all bring their own flair, sport their distinct weaponry and gear and ladle our senses with their distinct flavor, Hanzo does Royce a hell of a favor; I remain rather crestfallen that the Yakuza enforcer got sliced and iced for he was my favorite character whom, for a longer screen presence, I wished to savor. This flick never lingers, it moves with the efficiency of the initial entry in this saga…the very first, when Stans shouts "Hunt My Dick," he reminds us he's one of the worst, but Hanso is missing two digits due to the confessed fact that he talks too much; he remains my all-time favorite Predator world character--aside from Dutch.
Enter, with me, you cinematic fanatics, into the realm of film's fantasy while we unwind the grind of reality… I offer you: Pick 27: Slick Flick Pick: Yautja vs. Yakuza--When Old-World Meets Otherworld (Predators, 2010). Today, we discuss-- how to set a dead fall five times the weight of your target animal prey, those characters who prove most memorable with little to say, that Royce gets both battlefield glory and the hot sniper, but it was Hanzo who saved the predatorfuc**** day, no matter the role, Lawrence Fishburne's acting chops hold godd*** sway, and even if you play dead to bait this new breed of hunters, you, they'll poke, stab, spine rip and fillet.
- Your worthwhile cinephile: praying for, not prey for, the Predators: Falsetto Prophet
P.S. (Procrastinated Statement) *Intro/outro song, Soulicious, courtesy of the artist, Dyalla.
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By Falsetto ProphetGreetings, Cinematic Fanatics! Allow me the pleasure of ushering you through the dense jungle thicket of a quasi-terrestrial hunting parcel of dreadlocked, Berserker alien land where the air is, in fact, breathable, human skull trophies retrievable, poisonous flora and grotesque fauna conceivable, if you're hip to the garden variety predator, this Berserker breed remains believable, but surviving here seems far removed from achievable and the hunting pack of predator tusked-bloodhounds remains both imperceivable and unbelievable. These hunting grounds are designed for human apex predator sheep, you'll see a white light then free fall whilst asleep, this new breed of warriors creep as well as they leap, they'll shadow, stalk you, appear, linger and disperse all without one peep; they've amassed, of human and other species' skulls, an impressive heap atop this gruesome pyramid discovery of bones, blood and DNA unknown; I offer a crash cushion pad for this fallen Yakuza samurai to fall upon when he bequeaths his life to the greater good of dwindling comrades, enacting the code of death before dishonor, dismemberment and being divorced from your skull and spine in this otherworldly, planetary, tropical trophy treat of 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 27th episode, Othello and I review one of our most prized entries in the Predator franchise, a sequel that still owns the screen, secures
my attention, shocks my senses with its ability to mesmerize-- you'll laser focus, not blink your eyes, though all we can do-- discerning their origins-- is theorize, we will NOT believe the bad doctor, Edwin's lies, and while this film is familiar comfort flick fanfare, there's still surprise to be felt by this flick's power to, our attention snare and its unrelenting prowess to scare. One of the armored trifecta pilots a falcon drone, the other sports tusks picked from slain bloodhound bone, but their leader, the blacked-out Berserker, proves twice as vicious when left all alone.
I offer you, regarding this tried, but still quite true, Predator world building, culture expanding, littered with colorfully barbaric fatalities last true Predator sequel that offers firm finality to a loosely attached trilogy with Predators, circa July 2010. While the cast is overtly type cast, they all bring their own flair, sport their distinct weaponry and gear and ladle our senses with their distinct flavor, Hanzo does Royce a hell of a favor; I remain rather crestfallen that the Yakuza enforcer got sliced and iced for he was my favorite character whom, for a longer screen presence, I wished to savor. This flick never lingers, it moves with the efficiency of the initial entry in this saga…the very first, when Stans shouts "Hunt My Dick," he reminds us he's one of the worst, but Hanso is missing two digits due to the confessed fact that he talks too much; he remains my all-time favorite Predator world character--aside from Dutch.
Enter, with me, you cinematic fanatics, into the realm of film's fantasy while we unwind the grind of reality… I offer you: Pick 27: Slick Flick Pick: Yautja vs. Yakuza--When Old-World Meets Otherworld (Predators, 2010). Today, we discuss-- how to set a dead fall five times the weight of your target animal prey, those characters who prove most memorable with little to say, that Royce gets both battlefield glory and the hot sniper, but it was Hanzo who saved the predatorfuc**** day, no matter the role, Lawrence Fishburne's acting chops hold godd*** sway, and even if you play dead to bait this new breed of hunters, you, they'll poke, stab, spine rip and fillet.
- Your worthwhile cinephile: praying for, not prey for, the Predators: Falsetto Prophet
P.S. (Procrastinated Statement) *Intro/outro song, Soulicious, courtesy of the artist, Dyalla.