The joy of Disney’s “National Treasure” franchise lies in the delicate balance between reverence and respect. For all its designed chaos, beguiling history, and gross mishandling of monuments, the beloved 2004 film and its 2007 sequel are fundamentally in awe of history, respectful of legacy, and devoted to family.
Despite strong plot mechanics, broad audience appeal and evergreen themes, the National Treasure franchise lacks currency. It’s been fifteen years since the last entry, a period of years in which the holiday tentpole has evolved, as has Nicolas Cage, who is now more attracted to seasoned millennials than to Jerry Bruckheimer. With the odds increasingly narrow for a film to complete a trilogy, the only way to save National Treasure from becoming a dusty relic was to blow it up and build something new from the ruins.
Creators Cormac and Marianne Wibberley are trying to do just that with “National Treasure: Edge of History,” a 10-part longtime series on Disney+. The Wibberleys, who also wrote the screenplay for the two “Treasure” films, comprehensively modernize the show, in part by focusing on a Latino hero whose perspective on North American history adds resonance to themes of heritage and cultural preservation. But as interesting as this story can be, Edge of History struggles to tell it, in favor of developing and expanding on the franchise’s now-old mythology. It’s the rare reboot that could be less respectful of its source material.
Lisette Oliveira takes on the role of Jess Valenzuela, a history and mystery enthusiast who works odd jobs in New Orleans and grieves the recent death of her mother. She’s determined to one day crack codes for the FBI, but until then, her tricky memory and scientist-like puzzle-solving skills get lost in escape rooms. That all changes when she hooks a piece of nostalgic jewelry—all that’s left of Jess’ relationship with her absent father—on an epic adventure to find hidden treasure in Central America and learn more about her treasure-obsessed father. (There should be little concern about nepotism in the treasure hunting industry, as paternal bloodline seems to be the most reliable predictor of success in this field.)
Settling into Jess’s storyline is initially challenging because of how well the Wibberleys adjust the look and tone of the show to fit the new group of young adults. Jess’s roommate Tasha (Zuri Reid) is a hacker-in-the-making, while Tasha’s off-kilter boyfriend Oren (Antonio Cipriano) is a street-smart sneakerhead. Ethan (Jordan Rodrigues) completes the foursome escape room, but sadly, the clue that will help him escape the friend zone is trapped by Jess by not reciprocating his all-consuming crush.
And with details sure to please Disney’s dedicated brigade of review bombers, Jess and her gang are politically progressive and engaged in social justice. Jess lives in the United States under the protection of DACA, a precarious situation further complicated by her growing passion for treasure hunting and for planning ridiculous heists. While the Wibberleys’ dialogue is full of generic grandiloquent speech, the characters are accurate, if thinly drawn, perfect for young adults. “Edge of History” comes courtesy of ABC Signature, which explains why it feels a lot like a Freeform show, like “Good Trouble” if a good problem involved invisible ink puzzles and grappling hooks.
There’s a solid YA adventure show made around these characters, one that embraces the objectivity of its premise with more nuance. But this offer may not guarantee the “National Treasure” banner. To earn that, The Edge of History has to frequently feature older characters who never manage to fully blend into the show around them. Even Harvey Keitel, who reprises his role as Sadosky, kicks off the central mystery, then returns to the shadows. Standing in Sadusky’s place is his grandson Liam (Jake Austin Walker), who joins Jess’ mission as part of his own efforts to connect with a family member he doesn’t understand. And as if that weren’t enough, Justin Bartha returns as Riley Paul, whose infamy gave him a successful podcasting career.
This is how a hybrid reboot is, to bring together new faces and old friends into one story and see if they can get along. But Cage, Jon Voight, and Diane Kruger have all opted out of “Edge of History,” and the more original characters remain, the more acute the absence of bosses becomes. The show’s two worlds collide early and often, and each time awkwardly, as if the reboot and sequel are vying for attention. “The Edge of History” is two halves of a show that are badly tied together.
But the biggest problem is that without the Legacy characters, the Edge of History will become too weak to survive. The 45-minute episodes are covered in fat, or just plain fat when the show isn’t sure what it wants. Even the critically acclaimed third of four episodes, the series’ first full heist, seems to creep in despite the real-time urgency required for such a sequence. Liam, an aspiring musician who longed for the approval of his detaining grandfather, is often slowed down. Great, but does he need to do an entire song once per episode? If the show was totally intentional about his youthful transformation, this musical element might make sense. As it is, the performances only serve to remind the audience that they are not being served neither fish nor fowl.
It’s a shame that The Edge of History works, as it wastes Catherine Zeta-Jones as Billy, the ruthless thief who will kill Jess and her friends far sooner than he has a second to get to the treasure’s location. Zeta-Jones is the best thing about “Edge of History” because, like Cage before her, she’s only too happy to bump her performance up to 11. Her chronic villainy veers so close to camp that at times it feels like she’s working on a comedic impression of her voice. The Edge of History also feels like a self-parody, but it’s a much less fun variation born of a pointless effort to look forward and backward simultaneously.
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