Release Date: November 19, 2004
Starring: Nicolas Cage, Diane Kruger, Justin Bartha, Sean Bean, Harvey Keitel, Jon Voight
Directed by: Jon Turteltaub
Written by: Jim Kouf, Cormac Wibberley, Marianne Wibberley
Distributed by: Buena Vista Pictures
MPAA Rating: PG (action violence, some scary images)
The point of no return in National Treasure -- and by that I mean the moment at which the implausible, pulp action aura of this Jerry Bruckheimer production is fully realized -- comes with the entrance of the character of Dr. Abigail Chase, the chief archivist at the National Archives in Washington, D.C.
Surely unlike any person who has ever held the position in real life, and completely in keeping with the Bruckheimer tradition of beautiful people going on dangerous and glamorous escapades of fantastic import, Abigail Chase, who is played by Diane Kruger, is all collarbones and cleavage, a sexily capable woman if there ever was one.
What’s more, this stunning, youngish beauty has somehow arrived at this juncture in her life -- the one at which she inevitably decides to put her normal life on hold and accompany our hero into harm’s way, in this case, on a search for a mythical trove of treasure hidden by America’s founding fathers in the late 1700’s -- romantically unattached and, apparently, in the mood for an adventure and a tryst with an unemployed conspiracy theorist and history buff, or, what normal people might call a geek, times 10.
I think that her entrance has been strategically placed early in the film because it neatly defines the parameters of the movie’s reality and conveniently preempts all of the yeah-like-that-would-ever-happen skepticism in the audience -- at least for the next two hours, which is also the only part of your life Bruckheimer has ever been worried about, anyway. Once you’ve seen the whole movie, and the truth (or lack thereof) about Dr. Abigail Chase begins to sink in, it’s as though Bruckheimer has already tricked you into signing some kind of indemnity agreement. “Hey, if you bought her,” it says, “there’s no way you could not buy everything that happened after her.”
Well, I don’t buy everything that happens afterward, but then I have purposely subjected myself to the Bruckheimer bait-and-switch (yet again) known as National Treasure mostly for the sake of complaining about it in this review. Here, now, is everything that happens afterward (and a little bit of what happens before): Benjamin Franklin Gates (Nicolas Cage), the aforementioned conspiracy theorist and history buff, is part of a family whose lineage dates back to a confidant of President Andrew Jackson, and -- despite overwhelming official opinion to the contrary -- is one of the few who believe in the existence of an enormous stockpile of treasure accumulated throughout history and hidden by America’s founding fathers. Another believer is his wisecracking sidekick Riley Poole (Justin Bartha), and together they have deduced that an invisible map leading to the location of the treasure is on the back of the Declaration of Independence.
Concerned that the map might fall into the wrong hands, they attempt to warn the authorities -- including (wait for it) Dr. Abigail Chase -- but the authorities are understandably skeptical, and so Ben and Riley concoct a plan to steal the Declaration themselves and hold it for safekeeping.
This goes awry when Ben’s former partner, Ian Howe (Sean Bean) -- a.k.a. the wrong hands -- attempts to steal the Declaration himself, and in the ensuing chaos, Abigail gets dragged into the mess. Now on the run from the authorities, who are led by a federal agent named Sadusky (Harvey Keitel), and from Ian and his henchmen, Ben, Riley, and Abigail attempt to piece together the clues left behind in famous American history landmarks and even things like the dollar bill to discern the location of the mythical treasure.
National Treasure thus plays out like The Da Vinci Code for the American history set, and since Brian Grazer and Ron Howard laid claim to the rights to The Da Vinci Code itself a few months prior to the theatrical release of National Treasure, this movie also feels like Bruckheimer’s attempt at proving he could have done it better. (As it happens, the film was directed by Bruckheimer’s fellow producer, Jon Turtletaub, and written by Jim Kouf, Cormac Wibberley, and Marianne Wibberley, but such normally important crewmembers are merely incidental when Bruckheimer is producing.)
Much like The Da Vinci Code (or its predecessor, Angels and Demons), National Treasure is a systematic pilfering of a certain segment of history in the name of mystery. The plot leads our hero from historical location to historical artifact in search of clues that have been impossibly left behind to point anyone who bothers to look close enough in the right direction -- in this case, toward the supposed hidden treasure.
The chase in National Treasure goes from Washington, D.C. to Philadelphia to New York City, but it is surprisingly devoid of suspense, perhaps because it is so flagrantly in violation of reality and therefore so familiar to the average moviegoer. It begins with the heist of the Declaration of Independence, which plays out like footage cut from Ocean’s Eleven or Mission: Impossible, and then spends most of its time devising clever hiding places for the series of clues that our heroes must find and follow to determine the location of the treasure. Except that for all of the movie’s built-in reality checks -- including Ben’s dad (Jon Voight), who doesn’t believe the loot exists -- we know that the story is going to end up with our heroes in the treasure vault. The only question is whether the treasure will be there, too.
Even the characters are exactly what you’d expect, considering the actors who play them. Cage is once again the nerd-turned-action hero. Kruger, who played Helen in Troy, is the beauty queen thrown into harm’s way. Bartha is the wisecracking sidekick, right down to his artistically styled mop of hair and focus-tested soul patch. And in the infamous tradition of Hans Gruber, Bean is the bad guy with the European accent.
National Treasure is thus a movie that persistently flies in the face of logic, reason, and reality and, at the same time, turns out exactly the way you’d expect -- or in other words, it’s a completely typical Jerry Bruckheimer movie. But then you’ll realize that long before you get to the end credits.
-- Craig Roush (craigroush@hotmail.com)