NATIONAL TREASURE: BOOK OF SECRETS [PG]
Having missed the first installment of the National Treasure franchise, I wasn’t sure if I was at a disadvantage seeing its sequel, National Treasure: Book of Secrets. But if this is anything like the first, I would have gladly missed it and this witless sequel altogether.
Not that there isn’t some popcorn fun in this mix of Indiana Jones, high tech sleuthing, old-fashioned puzzle solving, and deep-seated family rivalries; but the inanities of the plot joined played out by its bland, though highly energetic characters makes for a very long adventure yarn.
The script – by a pair of married writers who call themselves The Wibberleys – follows treasure hunter Ben Gates (Nicholas Cage) in a quest to clear his family’s name. It turns out that a missing page of John Wilkes Booth’s diary implicates his great-great-grandfather in the plot to assassinate Lincoln, which sends Gates’ dad – the somewhat dotty Patrick (Jon Voight) – into a career-ending funk. This piece of information comes their way through generosity of Mitch Wilkinson (Ed Harris), who speaks in a sanctimonious Georgian drawl about how this revelation clears the name of his Civil War relation, who he feels was wrongly implicated in the assassination.
All this sets Gates off in a quest to find Cibola, the Lost City of Gold – a legendary sanctuary that was recorded by Spanish invaders, but not seen for centuries. How this quest ties into the Lincoln assassination is one of the more convoluted plot points, but before it can be questioned, Gates and his ex-girlfriend Abigail (Diane Kruger) and techno-geek associate Riley (Justin Bartha) are off to Paris to find clues on the copy of the Statue of Liberty that is there. This leads them to London, where they must break into Buckingham Palace, and the Oval Office in the White House. There’s even a plot twist about kidnapping the President (Bruce Greenwood) that pushes credulity to laughable heights.
But, then again, this movie isn’t about plausibility; it’s more like an amusement park thrill ride, so it isn’t surprising that its climax takes place in the caves behind Mount Rushmore where its characters, including Helen Mirren as Gates’ cranky professorial mom (along for the ride to translate ancient Indian script), crawl through the underground chambers in search of Cibola. (God save the Queen.) I kept hoping they’d run into those creepy creatures from The Descent; but, alas, the only thing creepy turns out to be Ed Harris’ blustery performance.
Director Jon Turteltaub directs in a style that suggests a dose or two of Ritalin are in order. Yet despite the hyperactive manner, the movie lacks much tension beyond connecting the obvious dots. There’s little of evoking the Saturday matinee thrills that made the Indiana Jones series so enjoyable; instead this movie has a dull, corporate feel, suggesting it was test-marketed within an inch of its life to maximize family appeal. It’s edifying to see a movie that promotes intelligence and knowledge of American history; but those looking for thrills should stay home and watch The Bourne Ultimatum instead. This is about as climactic as finding the treasure in a box of Crackerjacks.••• –Robert Nesti
Robert Nesti is the National Arts & Entertainment Editor for EDGE.