National Treasure

The poster's about the most exciting about this lame rip off of the bestselling sensation, The Da Vinci Code. Produced by that master of slick but soulless entertainment, Jerry Bruckheimer, National Treasure sees Nicolas Cage playing the unnaturally fast-talking, fast-thinking historian and treasure seeker Benjamin Franklin Gates. He's the last of a family of adventurers who've all wasted their days searching for the unimaginable riches that the legendary Knights Templar has apparently stashed away. Gates' latest clue confirms that the final piece of the jigsaw lies with the Declaration of Independence, and external factors - Sean Bean and his gang of nasty boys - ensure that he's got to well, nick it from Washington. Aided in his quest by the pre-requisite comedic sidekick (Bartha) and a museum curator (Diane Kruger), Gates has got to work out where the treasure lies using his encyclopaedic knowledge while avoiding the bad guys, the cops and the FBI.

About the best thing that you can stay about National Treasure is that it's consistent - this starts off as a low rent second-rate action thriller and just keeps on getting worse. Trying to disguise itself as a thinking man's blockbuster by simply having a couple of characters conversing very very quickly, National Treasure is so devoid of wit, thrills and intelligence that any self-respecting 8-year-old will find themselves yawning at the proliferation of cliches. The most remarkable thing about Nic Cage's performance is the gravity-defying antics of his hair, while Justin Bartha, last seen wandering haplessly around in Gigli (2003), is primarily used as a clarification device for the audience. But nobody's that stupid.