By coincidence one of my 25+ digital movie channels was showing National
Treasure last night, so I watched it again to confirm my earlier
impressions.
Most important, nothing in the film states explicitly or by implication
that the protagonist is an archaeologist. Throughout the movie Gates is
portrayed as a third-generation history buff (considered a nut-case by
professional historians) obsessed with the idea of finding that illusive
treasure his Grampa told him about. If the public or the media interpret
his actions as being that of an archaeologist it is not the fault of the
filmmakers (in fact, perhaps the fault lies with us).
There is nothing patently unethical about his actions (especially since he
apparently isn't a professional anything). He may be a collector (lots of
people are) of Revolutionary War artifacts, such as the button he gives the
curator, but there's no evidence that he looted it from a battlefield site.
He says merely that he "found" it, which could mean that he came across it
at an auction, a yard sale, or any number of legitimate means. He is
clearly conflicted about stealing the Declaration, but rationalizes it as a
wrong that does a greater good (preventing its theft by others who would
not care about preserving its condition--okay, so rolling it up ain't a
great idea--while getting what they want off the back of it). He points out
that the Founding Fathers were also criminals in the eyes of the British,
who would have been executed had they not won the war. He could have
compared his actions to burning a Vietnamese village to save it from the
VC, but that allusion would be lost on most of today's movie-goers. Gates
always intends to return it undamaged and take his punishment if caught.
The lovely curator opposes the theft and attempts to turn him in
immediately, but is won over after he rescues her from the real bad guys
and demonstrates the truth of his theory about the treasure. In part, she
goes along with the caper in order to ensure the continued safety of the
document (why they don't somehow leave it with responsible authorities
after they have the information off the back is, of course, a mystery). She
also knows she's in trouble for doing so, but is caught up in the
excitement of the situation. Allusions to Patty Hearst and the Stockholm
Syndrome might be a stretch, but such conversions are not unknown among
otherwise responsible people.
I'll grant you the film has limited shelf life as a work of art, but it's
not that bad as caper movies go, and it's popularity is understandable.
There is much in the film that is not historicallly correct, of course
(they are right about the fact that there was no daylight savings time in
the 18th-century, which would have put them in the right place at the wrong
time, but could have made the same point by noting that local time was
reckoned by the sun at highnoon back then--a nuance that's just a little
too complicated for a fast-paced action film). As others have pointed out,
though, this film and others also represent opportunities to educate the
public on those fine points. I'm sure it's no coincidence that PBS recently
aired a documentary on restoration and preservation of the Declaration of
Indepence and other documents in the National Archives, just as the recent
Pirates of the Caribbean release was accompanied by several programs
related to "real" pirates on the History Channel and countless articles in
newspapers.
Hollywood used to say that there's no such thing as bad publicity, and if
films like this get more people more interested in learning about the past
that may not be such a bad thing.
ven
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