A Ribbon of Dreams will follow two employees of early film mogul D.W. Griffth, one is a buttoned-up nerdy type, the other his cowboy producing partner. They'll encounter a host of the Old Hollywood legendaries—John Ford, John Wayne, Bette Davis.

Chase, who expertly crafted a television Guernica/Pieta/whatever-other-opus of an America in millennial decline with Sopranos, has a rough and raucous past from which to draw for his new period piece. Many of the early pioneers of Hollywood fled the East Coast as a means to avoid the patent fees any aspiring filmmaker had to pay to that greedy baron of power and light, Thomas Edison. They forged a rogue playground of early-times movie makers that was akin to the real Wild West (except, you know, probs a lot gayer). Chase ought to do well treading a seemingly glamorous, exciting world that has large chunks of grit breaking through the veneer. It'll be like the whole thing is set at Vesuvio's or in Carmela's kitchen, except it'll be filled with cigar-chomping movie types wearing suspenders.

Incidentally, the title comes from an Orson Welles quote, who called film "a ribbon of dreams."

File this under Things We're Excited For.

Baer claimed he provided help — arranging meetings with police and prosecutors during a three-day tour of New Jersey mob sites in 1995 and engaging in subsequent conversations — that sparked ideas for what b ecame the hit HBO mob drama that ended in June.

Both men testified that Baer turned down compensation from Chase three times. But Baer claimed Chase agreed to "take care of him" if the show was a hit. Baer said no monetary figure was ever discussed. Chase never offered him a writing job on the show.

Baer's case was systematically undermined over the course of the five day trial. His "three-day tour of New Jersey mob sites" was revealed to be a "three day tour of New Jersey's best places to get a calzone"; Baer's protestations that this constituted a tour of mob sites by default did not sway the jury. Furthermore, Baer's only "meetings with police and prosecutors" will be if he's tried for perjury for swearing under oath to have a dog named "Big Pussy." David Chase, meanwhile, has kept his word. Baer's been taken care of.

• Jury Rules In Favor of 'Sopranos' Creator [WCBSTV.com]
• Lawsuit Forces David Chase To Be Way More Forthcoming With Sopranos' Beginning Than He Was With Their Ending [Defamer]

David Chase, the creator of "The Sopranos," returns this week to New Jersey to testify in a federal case brought against him by a former judge who claims he helped create the HBO series and has never been compensated for his work.

Chase is expected to testify about the genesis of the Mafia series and its characters and, in the process, rebut [Robert] Baer's claims that he played a central role in the show's creation (Chase acknowledges spending a few days in 1995 with Baer, a former municipal court judge, discussing mob matters and touring wiseguy hangouts).

The lawsuit, filed in 2002, "limps into a Trenton courthouse," reports The Smoking Gun, with the presiding judge having already dismissed most of Baer's key claims. Still, there's apparently enough there to prevent the case from being dismissed outright, requiring the visionary showrunner to defend his creation—a story he's wanted to tell ever since early childhood, when family acquaintance Ruggiero "Richie the Boot" Boiardo would bounce him on his knee and ask if there was anyone in his kindergarten class who needed a roughing-up—in person.

• "Sopranos" Beginning Controversy Continues [TSG]

"I have no interest in explaining, defending, reinterpreting, or adding to what is there," he says of the final scene.

"No one was trying to be audacious, honest to God," he adds. "We did what we thought we had to do. No one was trying to blow people's minds or thinking, 'Wow, this'll (tick) them off.'

"People get the impression that you're trying to (mess) with them, and it's not true. You're trying to entertain them."

Chase does admit that there was some "conversation" (i.e., "Listen to this, quietly nod your head, then tell me I'm a genius.") about his selection of "Don't Stop Believin'" as his series-ending theme among his crew, who eventually "[came] around" to their boss's selection. Luckily, the showrunner decided to stay with the song's vaguely existential message that things "[go] on and on and on and on," rather than second-guess himself and succumb to brief temptation to replace it with the band's "Any Way You Want It," which would have artlessly telegraphed his desire for an open-ended interpretation of the abrupt, ambiguous ending.

• 'Sopranos' creator's last word: End speaks for itself [Star Ledger]
• The Obligatory 'Sopranos' Finale Post [Defamer]