No…there is another.

More good news emanating from the Sith: Apparently Steven Spielberg had a hand in choreographing the direction of some of Episode III‘s most crucial lightsaber duels. Even if Spielberg didn’t do all that much, the fact that Lucas looked for outside advice this time around bodes well indeed for the final installment.

Harding Eight.

Boogie Nights and Punch-Drunk Love wunderkind Paul Thomas Anderson (a writer-director I like a lot less than most people, although I caught Magnolia again on IFC recently and didn’t loathe it this time) announces his next project — Upton Sinclair’s Oil!, possibly starring Daniel Day-Lewis. Hmmm…looks like I had best write that dissertation chapter on Teapot Dome sooner rather than later.

Woody on the Couch.

Remove Allen from the scene of the contemporary romantic comedy and you get either Hugh Grant’s hollow trysting or Ethan Hawke’s pretentious babbling. (Actually, without Allen’s precedent, Hawke probably wouldn’t be allowed to babble.)” In the new N+1, Christian Lorentzen (a friend of mine from college days) writes on Melinda, Woody Allen’s castration anxiety, and Melinda.