National Treasure: Book of Secrets (2007)

I have the airline to thank for this, truly. I suspect I would have bought the DVD sometime in life if I had not seen the film otherwise. In the small back-of-the-chair screen that is more than it deserves. It is a pathetic excuse of a wannabe Indiana Jones. I haven’t, if you have not guessed, seen the predecessor of the national treasure — and to be frank, I am not inclined.

John Voight and Helen Mirren are a complete waste of talent and I have no one to blame but the casting director; apart from John Voight and Helen Mirren of course. See, they are wonderful actors, they will excel in whatever they do — but when they perform in a senseless film like this — even God gives up.

What can I say about Nicholas Cage? Nothing. After Leaving Las Vegas, he has left us all for a place unknown, from where we cannot recognise him. I will not waste blog space writing about the others. The comedy is hackneyed the thrills are overt and the script a wannabe Da Vinci Code in the garb of an Indiana Jones.

The rest, best left unsaid. I wasn’t only speechless; I was out of breath. Choking, i.e. The Bloody Mary on Jet Airways helped, but only a bit. I wanted to land as soon as possible. If you do not value two hours of your life, this is a definite watch!

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