NATIONAL TREASURE is the kind of movie that would’ve given me an erection when I was twelve, but being 29, I felt nary a twitch in my personal hoard. And never mind that in 10 years of taking history classes, I’ve not heard “Declaration of Independence” as many times as I did in the one hour and forty minute time span of this movie.

Benjamin Gates (Nicolas Cage) is part of a family of historians belittled by academia for believing in the hidden treasure of the Knights Templar, and who is obsessed with following furtive clues left behind by America’s founding Freemason fathers in hopes of finding it. He is double-crossed by his financial backer, Ian Howe (Sean Bean) and the race is on to see who can find it first; when they discover that the map to the treasure is written in invisible ink on the back of the Declaration of Independence, both factions move to steal it.

Ben Franklin & Co.’s clues shuffle Gates around Washington and Philadelphia MIDNIGHT MADNESS-style, all the while providing plenty of corny dialogue and impossibly stupid reactions to events. In a chase scene just after the theft of the Declaration, Dr. Chase becomes embroiled in an argument with Gates, repeating “gimme it!” with Cage turning on his best FACE/OFF reactive spaz mode to deny her. “Gimme it”? It’s not your Kirk Cameron stickerbook, Abby, it’s the Declaration of Independence. At another point, Gates states that rival Ian has unlimited resources, which is odd considering he hires the most ham-fisted, troglodytic cronies and most of his success at deciphering clues occurs by happenstance; still, they’re far more competent than the federales guarding the Declaration of Independence. Gates has little trouble pulling a little TRUE LIES tuxedo suaveness to get into the room, grab it and walk out mostly unabated. Makes you feel secure about those airport screeners feeling up your fiance in the name of homeland security.

There is no real chemistry between Cage and Diane Kruger’s (TROY, WICKER PARK) Dr. Abigail Chase, other than a contrived set of “oooh, we’re falling in love” glances, a limp romance punctuated by an oddly unromantic kiss toward the end that threatens to force Cage’s toupee right off his head. Even worse, the Declaration goes from a revered document to be treated with the utmost of care to being rolled and unrolled like a flea market Menudo poster by the end of the movie; all the time spent by the fathers etching
invisible 3D holograms on the thing, and it becomes a sight gag. Nice. And Harvey Keitel as an FBI agent? Suffice it to say my blurting out of his lines as The Wolf at his first on-screen appearance was more entertaining that most of this movie was.

By the time they eventually find the treasure, your mind will be flushed from having picked out the “hey, the same thing was in [insert movie]!” It borrows liberally (and at times, shot for shot) from other movies. The preparation of the theft of the Declaration is reminiscent of the vault-description scene from MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE; the theft itself, very THE THOMAS CROWN AFFAIR. The Cage-Voight dynamic is stolen from INDIANA JONES AND THE LAST CRUSADE, but come on. It’s Jon Voight...and not MIDNIGHT COWBOY Jon Voight, but ANACONDA Jon Voight. The treasure room, tomb set pieces, estate and romance angle, all from THE MUMMY.

With hokey dialogue, verbose and bordering-on-preachy history lessons, awkward romance and “been here, seen that” adventure schtick, NATIONAL TREASURE deserves to be kept archived at Blockbuster as a rental-only.

Review by Burke Hamblin.