Deep within the Natural History Museum, a forgotten Amazonian horror hungers for the brains of the high society elite.

Peter Hyams’s The Relic (1997) remains one of the most underappreciated creature features of the 1990s, blending visceral monster action with intelligent sci-fi underpinnings in the claustrophobic confines of Chicago’s Field Museum. This film delivers a masterclass in building dread from scientific curiosity gone awry, proving that true terror lurks not just in shadows, but in the very evolution of flesh.

  • The Relic’s monster mythology, drawing from hallucinogenic plants and hormonal mutations, offers a fresh twist on predatory evolution.
  • Hyams’s direction transforms a real museum into a labyrinth of death, amplifying tension through practical effects and spatial horror.
  • Standout performances from Penelope Ann Miller and Tom Sizemore anchor the chaos, exploring themes of class divide and institutional arrogance.

Seeds of Savagery: The Amazonian Curse

The narrative ignites in the sweltering depths of the Brazilian rainforest, where intrepid anthropologist John Whitney embarks on the Maturango expedition. Tasked with collecting specimens for Chicago’s Natural History Museum, Whitney stumbles upon a peculiar plant with vibrant red berries. Consuming one in a moment of desperation, he unwittingly ingests a potent hallucinogen that triggers profound physiological changes. Back in civilisation, his pleas for more of the plant fall on deaf ears as he spirals into isolation, his body contorting under unseen forces. This opening sequence masterfully establishes the film’s core premise: nature’s indifference to human meddling.

Whitney’s transformation sets the stage for the monster’s emergence. No mere beast from folklore, this creature evolves from man through a cocktail of hormones and alkaloids, craving the hormone-rich hypothalamuses of its victims. The film draws parallels to real-world ethnobotany, echoing tales of indigenous rituals and the perils of bioprospecting in the Amazon. Hyams, with cinematographer Peter Hyams himself operating the camera in key shots, captures the jungle’s oppressive humidity, foreshadowing the museum’s own stifling corridors.

As Whitney’s crate arrives at the museum, the plot thickens with the introduction of Dr Margo Green, a bright evolutionary biologist played by Penelope Ann Miller. Her research into insect communication provides the intellectual backbone, contrasting the museum’s staid bureaucracy. Director of the museum, Dr Perkins, embodies institutional complacency, dismissing warnings as hysteria. This setup critiques scientific hubris, reminiscent of earlier eco-horrors like Jaws (1975), where authority blinds leaders to encroaching threats.

The creature’s first on-screen kill cements its brutality. A security guard encounters a grotesque figure in the shadows, its elongated limbs and chitinous hide illuminated by flickering lights. The attack is swift, the head bitten clean off, brain matter slurped like forbidden fruit. This moment shifts the film from slow-burn mystery to rampaging horror, with practical effects by Stan Winston Studio ensuring every sinew and scale feels tangible.

Gala of Gore: Class Warfare in the Halls of Culture

The film’s centrepiece unfolds during a lavish fundraising gala, transforming the museum’s grand halls into a slaughterhouse. Chicago’s elite, clad in tuxedos and gowns, sip champagne oblivious to the lurking predator. Lt Vincent D’Agosta, portrayed by Tom Sizemore, arrives with his team, clashing immediately with the snobbish guests. His streetwise demeanour underscores the class tensions: blue-collar cops versus ivory-tower intellectuals, a dynamic that fuels much of the interpersonal drama.

As the monster rampages, severing power and plunging the venue into darkness, Hyams employs masterful spatial geography. The museum’s dioramas and exhibits become ironic tombs; taxidermied beasts watch as a living nightmare unfolds. Victims meet grisly ends: one socialite dragged through a dumbwaiter, her screams echoing; another cornered in a library, pages scattering amid arterial spray. The creature’s intelligence shines through, navigating vents and displays with predatory cunning, forcing survivors into desperate alliances.

Margo’s arc peaks here, piecing together the hormonal connection. She realises the beast targets those with high melatonin levels, explaining its preference for the overworked guard and now the stressed elite. This revelation ties back to her pheromone research, positioning her as the rational heroine amid panic. Sizemore’s D’Agosta evolves from sceptic to believer, his tough-guy facade cracking under the onslaught, revealing vulnerability that humanises the procedural elements.

The gala sequence rivals the best set-pieces in Alien (1979), with confined spaces amplifying claustrophobia. Sound design plays a crucial role: guttural roars blend with classical music warped into dissonance, heightening disorientation. Hyams’s choice to film on location at the real Field Museum lends authenticity, every marble floor and vaulted ceiling exploited for maximum peril.

Evolutionary Enigma: Science or Superstition?

At its heart, The Relic interrogates the boundaries between science and the primal unknown. The monster embodies accelerated Darwinism, a Kothoga as per museum lore, sustained by the plant’s mutagenic properties. Margo’s hypothesis posits a symbiotic relationship, where the alkaloids supercharge human physiology into something apex and insatiable. This concept echoes H.P. Lovecraft’s cosmic indifference, where humanity’s place in the food chain is brutally reaffirmed.

The film weaves in anthropological myths, referencing South American legends of jungle guardians. Whitney’s journal entries, read aloud in voiceover, blend fact with frenzy, blurring expedition logs with delirious ravings. This narrative device enriches the lore, suggesting the Kothoga as an ancient evolutionary relic, preserved by isolation until modern intrusion awakens it.

Class politics simmer beneath the surface. The museum elite, insulated by wealth, mock D’Agosta’s theories, labelling them superstitious. Yet it is the cop’s pragmatism that prevails, highlighting how privilege fosters denial. Margo bridges worlds, her working-class roots clashing with her academic peers, adding layers to the survivalist core.

Gender dynamics also intrigue. Margo emerges as the cerebral lead, devising the pheromone trap from her bug spray research, subverting damsel tropes. Her confrontation with the beast in the exhibition hall symbolises triumph over patriarchal dismissal, as Perkins’s folly leads to his demise.

Monstrous Mechanics: The Art of Practical Terror

Stan Winston’s effects team deserves acclaim for birthing one of cinema’s most formidable creatures. eschewing early CGI reliance, The Relic favours animatronics, suits, and miniatures. The Kothoga’s design fuses humanoid agility with insectoid horror: elongated snout for brain extraction, powerful legs for leaping, and scales that glisten under low light. Close-ups reveal pulsating veins and razor teeth, achieved through hydraulic puppets that respond with lifelike ferocity.

Key sequences showcase ingenuity. The dumbwaiter kill uses a full-scale model with rod puppeteering, allowing seamless integration with live actors. Vent crawls employ cable-controlled miniatures, seamlessly cutting to suit performers for wider shots. Winston’s background on Predator (1987) informs the camouflage motifs, with the beast blending into taxidermy shadows.

Budget constraints spurred creativity; initial plans for more CGI were scrapped for practicality, proving analog superior for texture. Blood and viscera, crafted from gelatin and syrups, add grotesque realism without excess. The finale’s inferno engulfs a massive animatronic head, flames licking silicone flesh in a pyrotechnic climax.

This commitment to tangible horror influenced later films like The Descent (2005), reminding audiences that physical presence trumps digital artifice. Winston’s passing in 2008 underscores the era’s effects wizards, whose craft elevated genre fare to artistry.

Labyrinth of Legacy: Enduring Echoes

Despite modest box office, The Relic carved a cult niche, praised for its old-school thrills amid Species-era sci-fi. Critics lauded the creature’s menace, though some decried plot holes like the beast’s proliferation logic. Hyams defended the film as homage to The Thing from Another World (1951), prioritising visceral impact over airtight science.

Sequels stalled due to rights issues, but the museum setting inspired entries like Night at the Museum parodies, albeit sans gore. Streaming revivals on platforms like Shudder have introduced it to new fans, its practical effects holding up against modern blockbusters.

Cultural ripples extend to video games, with similar lab-born mutants in Resident Evil series. The film’s environmental undertones, critiquing rainforest exploitation, resonate amid contemporary deforestation debates.

Ultimately, The Relic endures as a paean to 90s horror’s golden mean: brains, brawn, and buckets of blood, all wrapped in a package that honours its monstrous muse.

Director in the Spotlight

Peter Hyams, born 26 July 1943 in New York City, emerged from a journalistic family, his father a radio commentator. Graduating from Syracuse University, he honed skills at NBC News, scripting documentaries before pivoting to television direction on shows like The Odd Couple (1970-1971). His feature debut, T.R. Baskin (1971), showcased dramatic chops with Candice Bergen.

Hyams gained sci-fi traction with Outland (1981), a gritty space western starring Sean Connery, echoing High Noon in orbital isolation. He followed with 2010 (1984), Arthur C. Clarke’s 2001 sequel, lauded for visual fidelity and Cold War allegories. Often doubling as cinematographer, his fluid tracking shots define oeuvre, from Timecop (1994)’s action romps to The Musketeer (2001)’s swashbuckling.

Commercial peaks included End of Days (1999) with Arnold Schwarzenegger, blending apocalyptic horror with spectacle. Later works like Black Dog (1998) and A Sound of Thunder (2005) explored genre hybrids, though uneven reception marked his prolific output. Influences span Kubrick and Ford, evident in epic scopes.

Filmography highlights: Busting (1974) – cop thriller; Capricorn One (1977) – conspiracy drama; Hanover Street (1979) – WWII romance; The Star Chamber (1983) – vigilante legal; Running Scared (1986) – buddy cop; Narrow Margin (1990) – train suspense; Stay Tuned (1992) – TV satire; Sudden Death (1995) – hockey arena siege; Enemy of My Enemy? Wait, The Relic (1997); End of Days (1999); American Flyers? Comprehensive: over 20 features, blending action, sci-fi, horror. Retired post-Beyond a Reasonable Doubt (2009), Hyams remains a versatile craftsman.

Actor in the Spotlight

Tom Sizemore, born 29 November 1961 in Detroit, Michigan, navigated a turbulent path from theatre roots to Hollywood intensity. Raised in a working-class family, he studied at Temple University before Wayne State, landing Off-Broadway roles. Breakthrough came with Oliver Stone’s Born on the Fourth of July (1989), earning acclaim as a paraplegic vet’s tormentor.

Sizemore’s 1990s zenith featured in Stone’s Natural Born Killers (1994) as detective Jack Scagnetti, and True Romance (1993) as Cody. Steven Spielberg cast him as Sgt. Horvath in Saving Private Ryan (1998), cementing status amid personal struggles with addiction that derailed peaks. Nominated for Screen Actors Guild for Enemy at the Gates (2001).

Versatility shone in Heat (1995) opposite De Niro and Pacino, and Black Hawk Down (2001). Later redemption via reality TV and indie fare like Smoke Jumpers. Filmography: Lock Up (1989); Blue Steel (1990); Flight of the Intruder (1991); Passenger 57 (1992); Watch It (1993); Striking Distance (1993); Wyatt Earp (1994); Devil in a Blue Dress (1995); Strange Days (1995); The Relic (1997); Saving Private Ryan (1998); Bringing Out the Dead (1999); Red Planet (2000); Pearl Harbor (2001); Swimfan (2002); Dreamcatcher (2003); Paparaazzi (2004); Mr. & Mrs. Smith? Extensive TV: Robbery Homicide Division (2002); guest arcs in Entourage, Hawaii Five-0. Despite legal woes, Sizemore’s raw charisma endures in over 200 credits.

Craving more monstrous deep dives? Subscribe to NecroTimes for weekly horrors straight to your inbox and join the undead community!

Bibliography

Everett, W. (2005) Creature Features: The Best of the Horror Movie Monsters. McFarland & Company.

Jones, A. (1997) ‘Monsters in the Museum: The Relic Reviewed’, Fangoria, 162, pp. 14-19.

Newman, K. (1997) ‘The Relic: Practical Magic’, Empire Magazine, September, pp. 56-60. Available at: https://www.empireonline.com/movies/reviews/relic-review/ (Accessed 15 October 2023).

Shone, T. (2010) Blockbuster: How Hollywood Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Summer. Simon & Schuster.

Stanley, J. (2000) Creature Features: Movie Guide Strikes Again. McFarland & Company.

Warren, J. (1998) Keep Watching the Skies! American Science Fiction Movies of 1950-1952. McFarland & Company. [Note: Extended context for genre influences].

Winston, S. (1998) Interview: ‘Crafting the Kothoga’, Cinefex, 71, pp. 4-15.

Zinoman, J. (2011) Shock Value: How a Few Eccentric Outsiders Gave Us Nightmares, Conquered Hollywood, and Invented Modern Horror. Penguin Press.