Another friend, Alexandra DuPont, has a double review of Star Wars and Serenity. She’s always worth reading.

Amazingly she’s even more bullish on Sith than Vic was, and that’s saying something since Matus is awfully easy to please as a moviegoer.

Myself, I’m hoping that at the end of Sith, Chuck Lane emerges from an Imperial Shuttle and tells Palpatine that Anakin fabricated everything from the first two prequels.

Galley friend Christian Lowe breaks a major story in the Marine Corps Times about the Marines’ recent recall of more than 5,000 vests. A number of these vests remain in the field and could possibly have failed performance tests, unable to stop 9mm bullets. Worth a read.

Welcome to The Huffington Post, the new blog/news portal run by my old friends Arianna Huffington and Andrew Breitbart.

Most of the attention this new project is going to receive will be focused on its monstrous blog, but in the long run, I suspect that the Huffington Post may come to be valued as much for its function as a news aggregator. Breitbart is a genius and the Huffington Post could well become the new Drudge Report.

Thanks to all the Galley readers for sharing their thoughts on a number of recent posts:

An anonymous reader rightly flags the awfully large sum of cash Frank Sinatra allegedly toted for the mob back in 1946. Galley friend C.L. has an unimpeachable source who says that the $3.5 million in fifties weighs about 154 pounds. That would be more than the boy singer from Hoboken could’ve even weighed. This isn’t to say it couldn’t have happened. He could have towed a steamer trunk or had someone help him. I would also add my voice dissenting to the one reader who called Mr. S the most overrated singer. Frank was larger than life. He created (or helped create) the concept album. He dated Ava Gardner! Angie Dickenson!

It also warms the heart to see so many readers express their expert opinions on fine Scotch and fine bourbon. Surveying those comments, it looks as if Talisker comes out ahead, but just barely. And shame on the drinker who compared Laphraoig to a Band-Aid! (All of this speaks volumes about the sophisticated tastes of Galley Slaves readers. I expect distillers to place ads on this site promptly.)

Finally, I forgot to mention a minor distraction from Episode III–that being a giant reptile commandeered by Obi-Wan Kenobi. It gallops about and makes a very loud squealing noise. It’s reminded me of Jason and the Argonauts. (I prefer the soft murmers of a tauntaun anyday.)

Galley friend B.F. forwarded this link to the London Guardian concerning a claim made by comedian Jerry Lewis that Frank Sinatra once served as a courier for the mob. Does this surprise anyone? It certainly surprises–and slightly disappoints–me. I knew ol’ Blue Eyes had ties to various mafia figures who helped him throughout his career, from getting out of contracts to landing the Oscar-winning role in From Here to Eternity. Frank also performed for the likes of Sam Giancana–and possibly served as a conduit between Sam’s girl, Judith Campbell, and President Kennedy. But carrying money for the mob? That seems to be a little too close for comfort. Lewis apparently reveals his knowledge of the incident in an upcoming book, Sinatra: The Life, by Anthony Summers and Robbyn Swan.

The Chairman of the Board supposedly toted some $3.5 million in $50 bills and was almost caught by New York customs officials. But with a crowd gathering around the singer, the officers let Sinatra go, just in time. This supposedly took place in 1946, when Sinatra was 30-years-old–before his ring-a-ding years. Had he been stopped, Lewis rightly predicts, “we would never have heard of him again.”

In other words, Al Martino has been vindicated!

Thanks to the Galley reader who pointed out the typo regarding my high esteem for Episode IV and not Episode I. Meeza make a badda meestake!

With regard to tying up loose ends, we now know of the true significance of Senator Bail Organa (played by Jimmy Smits). He becomes the foster father to Padme’s daughter. This is why, as I’m sure most of you wondered way back when, the Princess Leia action figure came in a box with the inscription: “Princess Leia Organa.” I always wondered what was Organa.

So in other words you bought the Princess Leia action figure?

No, absolutely not. I have no idea how she came to be in my possession–not in the virginal white, I might add, but in the tan dress she wore in Cloud City.

I am here to tell you all that the rumor about possible nudity in Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith is wholly unfounded. You hadn’t heard that rumor? Neither had I, but I had always held out a New Hope. In fact, the moment of conception seems to have taken place between episodes two and three. Padme breaks the good news to Anakin when he returns from having rescued Chancellor Palpatine from the clutches of the droid leader Grievous…

Okay, I am already uncontrollably letting loose–that is, with the details of Episode III, which I have just seen this afternoon. In the interest of Star Wars fans, I am providing a few potential spoilers at the end of this item. So beware! But without spilling all the Bantha poodoo, I hereby give my abbreviated review:

Yes, Revenge of the Sith is by far the best of the first three–indeed, it might tie Return of the Jedi. That is to say, it is still well below the Empire Strikes Back and Episode IV. And yes, the film is very dark. Acting perfs are adequate across the board, although this prequel may have pushed Ian McDiarmid’s thespian skills to the limit. Hayden Christensen is believable enough, though clearly outshined while in the presence of Ewan McGregor and the always tantalizing Natalie Portman. As anticipated, there is more than enough violence to share among the star systems. One scene in particular–even though it is merely suggested–makes obvious why the movie is rated PG-13. Also, the film does a pretty good job of tying up most loose ends, though there is one glaring inconsistency.

On a scale of 1-10, I give Episode III a 6.

And now for the POTENTIAL SPOILERS:

From a design point of view, Lucas deserves much credit. We see the precursors to the AT-ST, the imperial shuttle, consular ships, X-wings, and TIE fighters. Some have the TIE cockpit glass while others have the X-wing fuselage but the TIE wings. (The fighters we see near the end of the movie already mimic the sound of the later TIE fighters.)

The first 25 minutes of the movie are pure action. But it is almost blinding, with all the laser fire coming from all directions. One early casualty: R4. May he rest in pieces.

The last 10 minutes are the most intriguing, as they bring us as close to the beginning of Episode IV as possible, including our meeting of Captain Antilles.

Chewbacca looks so much younger.

Remember when Luke asks Leia in Return of the Jedi if she remembers her mother? She says her mother was always sad and died when Leia was very young. (You have no idea just how young.) This is the major inconsistency I previously mentioned.

You cannot help but get the numerous antiwar messages being passed on to us from Padme. In one instance, she complains about the war being fought longer than necessary and how it is urgent we resort to diplomatic channels. When Palpatine declares an end to the Republic and the birth of a Galactic Empire and the Senate cheers him on, Padme says, “So this is how liberty dies. To thunderous applause.”

The robots in the baby delivery room look like something out of The Jetsons. Not a single Ugnaught among them!

R2-D2 knows all. So why didn’t he say anything in later episodes? Was he (yes, I assume the robot is male) keeping it his little secret? Because he could have saved us a whole lot of trouble later on. (R2 is also the designated comic relief of the movie.)

Grand Moff Tarkin (perhaps not yet that rank) makes a brief appearance.

Okay, that is all I have to say about this movie. Ever again. But at least I have closure. Apologies to those who might have stumbled upon some of the spoilers.

Many Galley readers might be wondering Where in the World is Jonathan V. Last? The answer, unfortunately, is that he is under the weather–so much so he is unable to get to a computer and post his usual intelligent blog items (as opposed to one that links Scotch to the Partridge Family). We all hope he gets better soon.

Jonathan was supposed to attend a screening of Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith this afternoon. But because he is ill (and generous, I might add), I am going in his stead. I admit I am but a mere Paduan compared with my colleague. Why, I don’t even own a cape. Nevertheless I am looking forward to what is supposedly (and thankfully) the best of the first three episodes, chock full of violence. But I am also hoping to see a lot more Natalie Portman. (Who doesn’t?)

I guess the question remains, in the interest of this blog, whether or not I should mention potential spoilers or any details of the film, for that matter. Or perhaps I ought to simply give it a rating from 1-10? (1 being the Phantom Menace and 10 being the Empire Strikes Back.)