National Treasure isn’t a film about some random guy stealing the Declaration of Independence—it’s about Nicolas Cage stealing it. If you remove .
For the most part, though, she’s a peripheral presence, ceding the spotlight to the blandly determined Jess and woodenly hunky Liam, whose paths eventually cross with Riley Poole (Justin Bartha), the National Treasure movies’ grating comedic-relief sidekick. Now a famous podcaster, Riley is around to provide some nostalgic flavor via his usual unfunny schtick, as well as to validate Jess as a worthy protagonist by telling her (and the audience) that she reminds him of Ben.
Jess solves puzzles with borderline-superhuman intuitiveness, and her intellectual acuity negates most of National Treasure: Edge of History’s suspense. The series’ conundrums are wildly intricate and totally absurd, and without Cage selling them with gonzo enthusiasm, they resonate as ignorable flimflam. It doesn’t matter precisely how Jess and her friends get from point A to B, because it rarely makes sense and it’s inconsequential to their overriding mission.
That mission, it’s suggested will be made trickier by an FBI agent (Lyndon Smith) on the case, as well as Salazar, an imprisoned baddie who may have been responsible for the murder of Jess’ dad. Salazar is only seen in shadows during the show’s first four episodes (which were all that were provided to press), but he’ll undoubtedly emerge as another obstacle for Jess to overcome by using her formidable brainpower.
There’s an easy explanation for why National Treasure: Edge of History is cartoonishly exaggerated and clichéd: It’s been designed for pre-teens. Yet that doesn’t make its broad performances and faux-clever storytelling any more excusable or bearable. YA fare need not, by definition, be this clunky, just as IP exploitation doesn’t have to play this unimaginatively—a shortcoming that extends to its meaningless subtitle.
Disney, however, has gotten this film-to-TV reboot playbook down pat, and it adheres to it zealously, bringing together new and legacy characters for an undertaking that’s a pale imitation of its (only mediocre to begin with) ancestors. So dreary is this endeavor that it’s almost a mercy that the estimable Keitel bails shortly after arriving—and that Cage, shrewdly, stays away altogether.
