Despite all the rumors and confirmed reports last year that Warner Bros. was making a new Conan movie, the studio failed to get the project going by its spring 2007 deadline. So, the rights to Robert E. Howard's character were put up for auction. Fortunately for Time Warner, the parent company of Warner Bros., the goods were picked up by its other subsidiary, New Line Cinema. Now, New Line has an 18 month option and one extension, so unless it wants to throw away the money it just spent, the studio will hopefully have something to deliver to theaters in the next few years. Considering Warners couldn't get something off the ground with big-deal talent like the Wachowski Brothers, Robert Rodriguez or Conan the Barbarian director John Milius, it is hard to imagine who, if anybody, could make this happen. Of course, now, thanks to the success of 300, it may be possible that any script featuring swords and loincloths will get a greenlight. Plus, New Line only needs to put the words 'the studio that brought you Lord of the Rings' to get people in seats. The studio could hire the worst filmmakers out there and probably still do alright.

But then the fans might put up a fuss. Still, the fans will likely be disappointed enough if Arnold Schwarzenegger doesn't return to the role. And since he's just begun his second term as Governor of California, I don't think he'll be available before New Line's deadline. If you grew up in the '80s, though, your first idea of Conan was probably Schwarzenegger's portrayal, and it may be difficult to imagine another actor taking on the part. Despite the fact that Conan was in novels and comics and elsewhere for decades before Milius' film, accepting a substitute in the next movie would be like accepting another actor as The Terminator, or as Danny DeVito's twin brother. Personally, I think that without Mako, who died last year, there's already no point in trying to associate the new Conan film with the old ones, so I welcome all new faces.

A long-discussed batttle from the Korean War, one that's been misrepresented and misunderstood for decades, is about to get the big-screen treatment, courtesy of producers Todd Wagner and Mark Cuban, as well as battle-experienced filmmaker John Milius.

Based upon Julie Precious' Task Force Faith, A Chosen Few will recount what happened during the historic Chosin Reservoir Battle. Apparently 2,500 US. Army soldiers dug in against about 100,000 Chinese troops, thereby (eventually) allowing (most of) 15,000 U.S. Marines to escape with their lives. In other words: John Milius Country all the way.

Although probably best known for 1982's Conan the Barbarian, Milius has always kept wartime battle very close to his heart. He wrote the screenplays for Apocalypse Now, 1941, Extreme Prejudice, Clear and Present Danger and several other action-centric titles. As director he's given us films like The Wind and the Lion, Big Wednesday, Red Dawn, and Farewell to the King. Mr. Milius' last feature film was 1991's Flight of the Intruder, so it'll be cool to have the guy back on the big screen for a change.

(Welcome to a new weekly feature at Cinematical, Guilty Pleasures, where our staff of writers will offer short pieces on the movies that they feel just that little bit ashamed about loving.)

I once, at a panel, heard San Francisco Chronicle writer Neva Chonin say one of the smartest things I've ever heard about pop culture: She was talking about music, and how the most amazing thing about it was that it could give you a different perception of time -- that when you heard a song you loved, it took you back to all the times you'd experienced it, and gave you a chance to experience time in a non-linear fashion. So it is with movies, and for me, Red Dawn. Red Dawn came out in 1984. I was 15; Reagan-era Cold War anxieties had me twitchy (or, rather, twitchier), and my membership in The Royal Canadian Air Cadets -- teen-age Boy Scouts with planes and the occasional trip to the rifle range -- gave me a social context of like-minded youth. There was a Cold War, but what if it went hot? What would that be like?

And then Red Dawn came out. Forget that to anyone with a shred of logic in their capacities, the film was laughable -- The Soviets would send crack paratroopers to capture the heartland? What resource were they hoping to seize, flatness? -- when you're 15, your critical faculties are, at best, minimally developed. Red Dawn had a bunch of every-kids -- Charlie Sheen, Patrick Swayze, C. Thomas Howell and more -- dealing with the arrival of the Red Menace. The film had action; it had suspense; it had gritty (or, at least, gritty by the standards of a 15-year-old) questions of wartime justice and tactics. It had hissable villains, too -- swarthy, stoic Cubans (led by Ron 'Superfly' O'Neal, which I wouldn't fully appreciate for years) and pallid, vampire-like Russkie bastards. It was, in short, perfect.

Times have changed; politics have changed; most cruelly of all, Charlie Sheen has changed. And yet, when I stumble across Red Dawn on cable -- where it will live forever -- I'm drawn in magnetically, fighting and struggling alongside the Wolverines and Powers Boothe, hooked by a premise so iron-strong and idiotic that it shoves me over every plot hole, every logic fault and every snag in John Milus' dialogue. Watching Red Dawn in the here-and-now, my 'adult' mind may recoil, but my heart -- and that skinny, dorky 15-year old, terrified of Nuclear War -- is enraptured by the power of cheap drama and cheap heroics that, God help me, still work on some level.