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Whenever silent movies or Vaudeville or Burlesque are recreated by more modern people, they do a shoddy job of it. In this episode an impresario is murdered while trying to revive a burlesque after World War II.

Two characters make this episode. First George Burns, who only appears briefly on film. Then Barbara Rhoades, who made lots of appearances on TV in the 1970s, from "Mannix" to comedies. Here, she plays a stripper and she's delightful as well as lovely to look at.

And who is the suspicious man who keeps trying to buy extra tickets?

The stage show is so bad, this episode is painful to watch. The mystery is no great shakes, either.

When a wealthy backer of Ellery's play (Edward Andrews) disappears, Ellery Queen (Jim Hutton) has to determine if he's dead or alive.

This is possibly the best episode of the series, coming as it does fron a genuine Ellery Queen story.

On a personal note, it's the first episode of the series I saw, finding it by accident when it first aired. So I do have a special affection for this episode that may be corrupting my judgment. But it's a solid mystery with a star-studded cast. And a literary subtext that tickles my fancy. And a shocking moment in the climax.

One disappointment: one of the joys of this series is Hutton's chemistry with David Wayne, playing his no-nonsense father. Unfortunately, Wayne is tardy about showing up for this episode.

In the immediate post-war period an undercover operative writes a book of memoirs. He also uses his secret files to blackmail people. When he's murdered, Ellery Queen (Jim Hutton) has an international list of suspects to choose from, including a Soviet Diplomat, an English antiques dealer, a French photographer and an Indian club steward.

As usual, the chemistry and by-play between Ellery and his father (David Wayne) is lovely. It's usually the best part of the show. Another useful additive is Gretchen Corbett ("The Rockford Files") as Ellery's latest girl friend who is gung-ho to find the murderer . . . Since she, too, is a suspect and needs to clear herself. She's a ball of fire.

I know they like to keep providing Ellery a new love interest each week (he's so absent-minded they probably get fed up with him!) but Corbett's so good and plays so well with Hutton and Wayne they should've made her a regular.

This episode has a star-studded cast and a good mystery. In a voice contrary to so many reviewers, this is one of my favorite episodes, and Corbett is one of the reasons.

Apparently perfunctory airline "disaster" movie following not long after "Airport." However, the subject of a "skyjacker" (as they used to call them) is treated seriously and the size of the airplane set provides a genuine feeling of claustrophobia. In this plane, there's nowhere to run.

While the magnificent spoof "Airplane!" knocked the struts out of this sort of feature so it's hard to take these sorts of movies seriously, this portrayal of an airline in trouble is no-nonsense. It has some stereotypical passengers, such as the pregnant lady (Mariette Hartley) . . . But you've got to have passengers and pregnant women do take airplanes. Duh. And Rosie Grier's jazz cellist is a new one on me.

The cast has familiar faces. Charlton Heston is the pilot (so you feel nothing too bad can happen--can it?). Walter Pidgeon is a Senator on a secret mission for the President (no party given). But the sets aren't fancy, the music isn't portentous, the story is straight-forward and not cloying (it's amazing how quickly they get in the air, rather than goofing around with lots of exposition--you get to know these folks as you fly with them) and if the plane blows up it's the end of the world only for the few mostly ordinary people trapped in the air, whose lives feel genuinely at risk.

The mystery is no great shakes, but that's a side issue. More troubling is: in an age when Communist terrorists hijacked airplanes to Cuba, why hijack a plane to Anchorage?

Jim Hutton plays the mystery character/author Ellery Queen in this series about kinder, gentler murders.

It's New Year's Eve shortly after World War II and Guy Lombardo (ubiquitous to New Years celebrations when the series aired) has a prominent, though non-speaking part.

The cast is interesting, if not particularly moving: old movie actor Farley Granger (from Hitchcock's "Strangers on a Train"); a pre-"Charlie's Angels" David Doyle; a pre-"Dynasty" (but still famous) Joan Collins; George Wyner; Ray Walston, Herb Edelmann . . . And they're all acting like crazy. Believe me, Hitchcock, this ain't.

Unfortunately, Jim Hutton's likeable Ellery absent-mindedly arrives late to the party. Part of the joy of this series is the chemistry between Hutton and David Wayne, who plays his father; and in this episode they only come together near the climax.

Some of the solutions in this series are silly but the fun is the journey, not the destination. This early in the series, they hadn't quite hit their stride. Better episodes lay over the horizon.

While some reviewers think of the series as old-fashioned, it *is* set in the 1940s. And when the series first aired it would evoke nostalgia, being no farther from its time period than we at 2024 are from the turn of the 21st century. And while they do a good job of evoking a stylized 1840s, the series has 1970s written all over it.

Still, weak "Ellery Queen" is better than most shoot-em-ups.

Jim Hutton (father of Tim) plays long-time mystery character/writer Ellery Queen in a curious start to a lovely series.

Based on an Ellery Queen novel (the rest of the episodes were based on short stories that fit the hour-length better), "Too Many Suspects" tackles a more serious tale than the rest (though they all involve murders).

Unlike the literary character, Hutton's writer is an absent-minded, easy-going, eminently likeable shaggy-dog type. Yet, he's capable of seeing what others don't and isolates the guilty from the merely suspected (and throughout the series, all the suspects are darned suspicious).

The cast is top-notch (for the mid-1970s), including Oscar-winner Ray Milland and a pre-"Magnum" John Hillerman (a recurring foe for Queen who isn't in the stories). This series may have kicked off the washed-up celebrity sort of show (cf "Murder, She Wrote"). Last chance to see your old big-screen favorites, now whittled down to TV size.

Ellery's father, Inspector Queen, is portrayed by old hand David Wayne. Hutton and Wayne have enormous chemistry.

Two things carry over from the Ellery Queen books: the "dying clue" (often a stretch in the books and stories and looking downright nutty on TV); and, mostly from the novels, a pause where Hutton breaks the "fourth wall" to ask if the viewer we've guessed the culprit.

Hutton (and, secondly, Wayne) carry us through some rank silliness by their excellent acting, likeableness and comeraderie. The pilot episode (originally presented as a movie on TV) was broken by commercials, which helped.

Certainly in this pilot, and throughvthe rest of the series, they did a good job on the period setting, though some of the asides (for instance, criticizing early television) sound a bit cutesy.

According to RSC director Trevor Nunn, every year he received requests from actors (some of whom were quite hopeless, though he didn't drop any names) who wanted to come to Stratford to play Hamlet. What Nunn does in this documentary is take a small selection of actors who played what he thinks were great Hamlets and interviews them about how they got under Hamlet's skin and what they found there.

Nunn's "great" Hamlets include Laurence Olivier, John Gielgud, Nichol Williamson, Ben Kingsley . . . And, rather surprisingly for non-English speakers, Maximilian Schell and Vittorio Gassman. For a joker in the deck, Nunn chooses one actor who HASN'T (yet) played Hamlet, but it planning to: American Mandy Patinkin ("My name is Hamlet. You killed my father. Prepare to die.")

Some of the moments are shocking, for those who love good acting. Richard Burton's cold recitiation of some of Hamlet's lines was phenomenal. Burton also points out something usually not considered for we who aren't actors: the audience is a different animal every night and before proceeding with one's interpretation one must gauge what sort of animal they'll be.

Listening to those great actors offer their insights is lovely. Naturally, everyone has their own idea of Hamlet. Hamlet is a mirror, not only of his age, but every age where he's been played, while also reflecting the actor playing him.

As a writer, I do miss a writers' perspective. I wish Nunn had lined up a few notable Shakespeare-loving writers to toss in a tidbit. Why does Hamlet delay? Well, of course, in the original sources, Hamlet is scared for his own life and so plays mad to plan his vengeance in safety. In Shakespeare, he's not sure whether the ghost is a demon trying to pull the rug out from under his own soul. But a writer's answer is, and it must have crossed Shakespeare's mind, if Hamlet plunged at once into his revenge we wouldn't have much of a play. The thing has to be strung out somehow.

Of course, one thing I've always wondered is, what happens to Hamlet between the time when he pronounces "My thoughts be bloody or be nothing worth" and when he pops back up joking with the gravedigger (and the skull) and says, "there's a special providence in the fall of a sparrow." What did these great actors bring to the role to interpret Hamlet in these questionable moments, and how did actually being Hamlet change their own perceptions? We don't get answers to all these questions. But hearing those who actually "fight the bull" (from the old poem by Domingo Ortega) is fascinating. They've done something most of us will never do: mount a stage and actually recite some of the greatest lines ever penned, offering the world (or, at least, the nightly audience) Hamlet the way we see him.

Hamlet is one of the greatest plays (arguably the greatest) play in the English language and certainly the greatest role. It's also a long, exhausting journey for any stage actor night after night. There's no "ultimate" Hamlet, there's only individual preference for how he's portrayed. It's good to hear some of those given the opportunity to play Hamlet to talk about it. This documentary is a must for any Shakespeare lover.

Once, when a diamond was being shipped to Britain for Queen Victoria, guards were put aboard the ship and elaborate precautions were laid. Yet that was all a ruse as the real diamond was boxed up and sent through the post office, who delivered it safely. True story.

This is kind if rhe same idea. While elaborate precautions are made for the shipping of a new weapons system that looks like an RV, the real one is . . . No, not sent through the US mail, but being driven across the country by Agency professional spy Lee Steton and his amateur sidekick, Mrs. King. Now, that's security.

Well, why not? Once, when I lived near a major freeway, one Sunday night I was up in the wee hours (pre-dawn) running when I saw about four black cars, then a covered flatbed truck, then another four black cars, driving under the speed limit equidistant from each other. At that hour they had the freeway to themselves. I'll never know what that was about but I went straight home and was gratified the FIB didn't run me in. If they read this, they still might.

This is one of the spookier "Scarecrow" episodes but it has an hilarious climax.

Dudley Moore, one of America's all time strangest movie stars, long before proving he could hold his own opposite Julie Andrews, displays his bag of tricks in this delightful (and extremely well-edited) tale of a 29-year-old composer who wants to hit it big and be married by the time he's 30, though he starts off with no prospects for either.

Naturally, it's wackiest up front, then settles in toward the hour mark as Moore loses and must find the woman he thinks he loves (Suzy Kendall, who actually was Mrs. Moore for a while. And who never looked better).

The music, by Moore, is pretty good. A delightful opening theme that gives one the mistaken impression it's going to be a knock off of "The Knack" and promises a superstitious theme it then forgets. Some excellent jazz (including a serious piece where Dud shows what he can do vis-a-vis a piano). Even a faux-madrigal where he gets to sing harmony with himself (I like early music, and it's not half-bad).

Some people think during this period Dud wasn't as good without his erstwhile partner, Peter Cook. And for someone who enjoyed Pete and Dud movies like "The Wrong Box" and "Bedazzled," one almost expects Cook to pop through a door at any given moment. But, genius though he was, Cook's career suffered worse, without Moore. (And don't judge this movie by what it isn't, but what it is).

Naturally, the sort of humor established early on can't be sustained. But this movie with the unwieldy title has some of Britain's familiar comic faces popping up for comedic turns, though it's worst crime may be the underutilizing of Eddie Foy, Jr. ("The Pajama Game"). The whole thing is refreshingly off-kilter without the more serious subtext that nearly upended "The Knack."

Amanda is mistaken for Scarecrow (in a believable way) and held for exchange for an enemy agent by a group of spies (headed by Lee Bergere from "Dynasty"). The complication? Higher ups in the Agency (voiced by John Saxon) don't think she's worth the swap. It's up to Stetson to go rogue to get Amanda out of this jam he got her into.

Though some of this episode is brazenly borrowed from Hitchcock's "North by Northwest" this episode spotlights Amanda's strengths and maintains the humor. Kate Jackson is at her best.

Highlights include Francine's first visit to the King household, where she gleefully sides with Amanda's mother (Beverly Garland) on everything.

Lovely Martha Smith plays two roles in this episode about a Hungarian defector from the Iron Curtain.

The story is one of those things that gave old TV shows a bad name: lookalikes. It's a trifle much of a stretch that a Hungarian defector should be a dead ringer for someone at the "Agency" trying to bring her in. But this is a romantic action-comedy, not a documentary. It's just too bad they had to use it in the first season (in a later episode we get a lookalike for Amanda, but she was made to resemble Amanda and it wasn't accidental). It suggests a bit of desperation for plots early on.

Nevertheless, I liked Francine and don't mind seeing more Martha Smith.

Beverly Garland plays the episode with an annoying cold-voice.

This famous documentary earned kudos for being extremely well put together and having a line-up of significant voice actors. The way the camera moves over the black and white pictures gives them a genuine feeling of movement.

But . . .

I am no Civil War scholar but I was attending graduate school in another field when this was first broadcast. The University was one where the Civil War is prominent and the professors there were hopping mad over this show. They nearly all recommended another multi-part documentary, which I won't name (mainly since I can't remember what it was--as I said, I'm no Civil War scholar). Though experts in any discipline distrust trespassers on their turf (History, Science, Theology, etc.) genuine Civil War historians who do that stuff for a living hated Ken Burns' "slant" (their term).

I watched and enjoyed "The Civil War" when it was first on, and can't praise its quality enough. However, as with televangelists, just because we see something on TV we shouldn't take it as gospel, however good it looks and sounds. Beware.

Daniel Chalmers (Efrem Zimbalist, Jr.) appears with a scheme to make Remington a Duke. The more Remington tries to fight it the deeper in he gets.

His relatives are eager to accept him. So who is trying to kill him?

Laura once again (reluctanctly) adopts the identity of Myrtle Groggins. One thing I hate about Laura is that she's never learned the art of chewing gum.

Much overacting in a silly plot. Daniel is arguably the best role Efrem's had since he was "Dandy Jim" on "Maverick" but in this one he overplays his hand.

However, the episode is a diversion from the usual LA thugs and gives us more insights into what "Harry" must have been like before becoming LA's premiere detective.

What's hidden in Laura's loft that so many people seem to want so desperately?

A very funny confrontation between Laura and a secretary; and an object lesson in the meaning g of "runaround." And we have a hint of who is the better detective.

Again, we hear echoes of "The Rockford Files," when his neighbors tried to get him evicted.

A delightful climax where we learn about the secret life of one of Laura's neighbors, and we see lots of early 1980s electronics in action, including what they thought AI would be.

And Remington has an opportunity to demonstrate his need to be dapper in trying circumstances.

Not a great episode, perhaps, but puzzling enough to be entertaining.

Reverting to his old ways Remington pilfers a valuable, museum-piece dagger (they do it up front so that's no spoiler). Unfortunately, it's stolen again and Remington, who took it for a good reason, has to find and re-steal it.

Meanwhile, Laura has hopes for a romantic time on the Riviera (alas!)

Though they (and most other shows) are, curiously) less believable on actual, far-flung locations than they are in the safety of LA, and Laura is very shouty to be picked up by the microphones in the streets of Cannes, this is a pretty good episode, opening their third season with a new slant to the relationship between Remington and Laura. Well, they have to do something to keep the romance alive.

In fact, this show contains one of my favorite moments of the whole series, though to say what it is would be a spoiler.

A movie often referred here to is "To Catch a Thief," the Hitchcock classic starring Grace Kelly, who became Princess of nearby Monaco and who died not much more than two years earlier. One of the loveliest ladies of the screen, a good actress and a Hitchcock favorite.

Why is everyone after a stolen pooch? And why do they want the dog rather than its genuine-diamond collar?

This episode showcases Doris Roberts as Mildred Krebbs. It also has a brief appearance by Nita Talbot (the crazy Russian spy from "Hogan's Heroes," here rather more low-key). Actor J. D. Cannon is back playing the dog's owner, who has secrets of his own.

It also answers questions like, what does an Agency working on a shoestring do when the Secretery plays hooky?

Remington's shady past proves useful. And Laura demonstrates again how good she looks in men's hats. And the 1970s Doctor Who, Tom Baker, is as bug-eyed and over the top as expected (catch his Rasputin in "Nicholas and Alexandra," Columbia, 1971, starring about every notable British film actor of the day).

Desperate housewives, indeed, as socialite women turn a mechanic into the local boytoy and then become targets for blackmail--or suffer terrible but somewhat humorous consequences.

Then the alleged blackmailer turns up dead. Is he a one-man band or does it run more deeply? What do you think?

This is a rather unsavory episode with serious rather than tongue-in-cheek suspense. Its humor is forced and occasionally causes revulsion. For instance, I've never been in an adult bookstore for a reason. I don't want to visit one vicariously through Steele in disguise.

It may appeal to those who prefer the serious side of Steele. Or those more conversant with adult bookstores.

Major Descoine and his daughter "Minor' threaten to kill Remington and Laura. So the investigators go proactive and try to stop the Major first, leading to all sorts of trouble. They should have stayed home.

As MacGiver had his Murdoc so the Remington Steele Agency had its Major. Unfortunately, for whatever reason, this is the last lap for the Major and the Minor.

This is an exciting episode of constant movement. It's sometimes a bit shy on sense, but it's a fun roller coaster ride.

The ending has a nice trick. The Major apparently has an unlimited income.

I'd like to have seen further episodes involving the Major. Perhaps he ran out of ideas.

The Remington Steele Agency is hired to transfer valuable gems from one city to another. Naturally, it goes wrong. Now they must recover the stones and nail the villain or lose the Agency.

With so much at stake, and so many delicious twists (including a tank of venomous sea snakes and Remington and Laura stuck in a coffin about to be cremated) it's a shame the episode as a whole isn't better.

When the Cullinan diamond was purchased for the British Crown elaborate precautions were made for its transferrence; all for show, since the real diamond was slapped in a box and put in ordinary mail. So Steele's preparations, which look slapdash, may be cleverer than we think. Whatever, they don't work. And the villain is fairly obvious, though the "Batman" fight at the end (without the "zow-ee" or "biff" signs) does have a genuinely surprising climax.

The problem with this episode is that the action and romance is broken by daydreams (hence the title) one of which is reminiscent of the miserable ending of the otherwise howlingly funny "Arrivederci, Baby" (Tony Curtis, Lionel Jeffries, Paramount, 1966).

Fast forward through the dream sequences. They add nothing to the plot. Nor to your life. They render this episode only marginally superior to a clip show.

The Remington Steele agency is hired to protect fashion designs from being pilfered. But is more going on than meets the eye?

While the stories and objectives are different, the show is reminiscent of "A Material Difference" from "The Rockford Files," which show seems to have been a strong influence on "Remington Steele."

The story has lots of elements: a longtime rift between brothers, a dead body in a refrigerator, models and buyers, and more I won't reveal.

Fashion usually leaves me cold but they slip in an older gentleman, as they did in "To Stop a Steele," who brings a bit of lightfingered delight.

Far-fetched, yes, but not offensively so.

Why are people at gallery auctions bidding high prices for trash? And why is genuine artistic junk worth kidnapping for? A low-level journalist wants to know.

I like it when Remington's past becomes important to a case. I really loved the premise of the series: that's he's a hanger-on who nevertheless finds just the right clue by serendipity and references to old movies. But Remington's specialized knowledge does add depth to these episodes and to his character. Je's more than a clothes horse.

This is a puzzling case from start to finish. Even later developments that usually shed light on the subject leave the viewer increasingly puzzled.

The tag ending is expected (think "The Rockford Files") but this episode is a delight as one feels Laura's joy.

Oh, and it showcases a young Jeffrey Jones ("Amadeus").

Leo Tolstoy's magnificent epic about Napoleon's relationship with Russia is given the grandest movie treatment of its time and the film manages to be the one thing the novel isn't: dull.

Okay, the novel WAR AND PEACE is a slow starter, but once the players are in place on Tolstoy's sprawling chessboard, his Russian historical soap opera is lots of fun (depending on your translation).

Thank goodness someone cast Audrey Hepburn as Natasha. Despite her sometimes Tin-man like delivery, she brings a spark of life to the proceedings. Anita Eckberg is the very description of the social-climbing Helene.

Nebraska-born Henry Fonda, never bothering to upgrade his All-American accent, is woefully miscast. But what movie star of the time could match Tolstoy's physical description of Pierre? Putting descriptions aside, how can Mr. Noble's image of hardy American purity encapsulate Tolstoy's drunken, waffling reprobate-Napoleon-supporter-turned-assassin? But a film this size required a marketable, watchable star. Even his duel scene, usually the highlight of any epic, manages to be uninteresting, despite being, as far as I know, unique in the cinema.

Mel Ferrer (Mr. Audrey Hepburn) is dull, but so was his staid character in the book. Pierre was much more interesting in the book, which Fonda isn't in the movie. If Fonda can't act Ferrer off the screen, somethings amiss.

Herbert Lom, usually reliable in drama or comedy, postures rather than acts as Napoleon. Well, maybe that was closer to the way Napoleon was. He's European and I'm American so maybe he knows.

Jeremy Brett (thirty years later, the consummate Sherlock Holmes) is game, but his character suffers from truncation. Helmut Dantine acts his guts out but his character. . . Ditto, and more so.

The cast, overall: the ladies are perfectly chosen. The guys don't fare so well.

The production is lovely but the heavy-handed music might've been Mahler's eleventh.

Epics don't have to be boring. "Ben-Hur," for instance, or anything by David Lean. It's a choice, and this one chose to be high-falutin', as if Tolstoy were a demi-god than an entertainer in another medium; and his novel ain't Scripture. If only people would realize there's no such thing as an "important" novel or movie, only novels and movie that, whatever their nature, 1) entertain, or 2) don't. Tolstoy's (admittedly overblown) novel did. This movie, for the most part, fails to.

WAR AND PEACE was perfect fodder for a miniseries, but when that form came to fruition in the 1970s and 1980s, American TV was adapting Sidney Sheldon and James Michener and the BBC version was stagey, and declaimed rather than acted. Tolstoy has yet to get his due on film. And Audrey Hepburn, and her doe eyes, is gone. I'll never read the novel again without seeing her and her eyes in the role.

What happened to Rick and A J Simon after the TV series was boarded up? Well, they got older, like the rest of us, but seem to have lost their collective sense of humor.

Rick's still a bit if a rogue. A J tried to go up in the world. We get glimpses of old friends like Janet and Downtown Brown.

I'm glad "Town" is back. The original show got better with the inclusion of Tim Reid in the cast and his were its best years. The show folded the year after he left, and rightfully so.

They've moved their operations up the left coast from San Diego to Seattle.

On the down side, their mother is screechy and abrasive and she'd have had a happier life in this movie if she'd been a little more conciliatory.

The original S & S music is gone, probably due to rights issues. The new music is a downer but fits an autumnal show.

If you enjoyed the wackiness of the original there's some up front but it's subdued through the rest of the movie. The Simon's aren't kids anymore. I've retained my youthful wackiness but most of my old friends have lost theirs, so that's par for the course.

Oh, there's also a cameo by an almost unrecognizable Delta Burke that's almost the best scene.

A Navy submarine (what other kind?) has, through an odd catenation of circumstances, been painted pink and has on board a contingent of Army nurses. Based on a movie featuring Cary Grant and Tony Curtis.

John Astin is the Captain. After making a good name for himself as the wonderfully off-kilter Gomez Addams (and doing great supporting bits in movies) it's a bit disappointing that he has to play it straight, being the anchor of the show. If he doesn't seem like "John Astin," he no Cary Grant, either.

Richard Gilliland has the Tony Curtis role from the movie, Holden, the scrounger, and though he's good he lacks Curtis' oily charm.

The rest of the cast is full of types rather than characters. The stammering, shy typist-tecord keeper; the crusty engineer . . . Jim Varney (later famous as Earnest) plays "doom and gloom," The eternal pessimist. Fortunately, whoever put this show together had the sense to get actors with different looking faces, so they don't all run together.

The nurses include rising star Jamie Lee Curtis as Holden's love interest.

Unfortunately, the show has too many characters for a half-hour comedy. It even has too many nurses to treat them all fairly.

I wanted to like the show but it was made in the 1970s and lacked the edge of "McHale's Navy."

However, I've fallen for the klutzy nurse Melinda Naud and I'm only sorry I came upon her 47 years after the show was made, when i'm old and gray. Thanks, Melinda. You're the best part if the show!

The show was revamped in a second season but simply couldn't keep afloat. Pardon the pun.

"The Black Bird" is both a sequel to and spoof of "The Maltese Falcon" and is also its own entity.

Sam Spade's son (George Segal) has inherited his father's detective business, and harridan secretary (Lee Patrick, who has some of the best lines). Suddenly a lot of people are showing interest in the Maltese Falcon, which Spade knows to be phoney.

Spade must elude Hawaiian assassins and National Socialialist midgets (his word) and others (including Playboy Playmate Connie Kreski) to protect his life when all around him people are dropping like flies. And he's in a running Battle with a less than helpful helper (Lionel Stander).

It's offensive all around. Certainly not PC. I was offended by it myself, but I'm a big boy who can roll with it.

It's also hilarious. Segal's Spade isn't so much a detective as a pinball bouncing from one acquisitive group to another. He's the definition of "hapless."

The ending is a cop-out, but what're you going to do?

If you're easily offended or if the original "Falcon" is some sort of holy writ to you: stay away. You have been warned. Otherwise, you may enjoy this.