Elements: those things that are attractive to a prospective filmgoer, which even if jumbled together haphazardly are still bound to pass on a non-zero amount of pleasure. These are settings (camel riding in the desert—ooo!) scenarios (heist planning sequence—nice!) and story archetypes (a crusty old man finds his soft spot—aww!). These are the foundations of escapist entertainment.

The concept of elements is sometimes juxtaposed with that of execution, especially in a franchise fan’s recounting of their favorite films in their favorite franchise. A 007 fanatic might concede that Octopussy is not a particularly well-made installment in the franchise, but that it’s jammed with enough satisfying elements that it wins out.

National Treasure has elements in excess. It’s basically Elements: The Movie. It’s an Indiana Jones movie with a Peter Jackson Lord of the Rings-style exposition dump ripped from The Count of Monte Cristo that unfolds into a Steven Soderbergh heist followed by a Tony Scott hostage thriller.

And yet… it doesn’t find itself buckling under the weight of all of these influences. It’s ludicrous, of course. But isn’t that the point? It’s held together by ol’ reliable Hollywood production skills. The kind that seek nothing more than to get the job done and make a profitable picture. That sensibility imbues National Treasure with the rhythm and pacing of a Mission: Impossible-type film. It’s a fast-paced film considering how far point A is from point B at times, but it never succumbs to the manic, breakneck pacing that was prevalent in its era.

National Treasure is a success, and I know this because of how memorable the film is twenty years later. I’ve seen a heap of films and hardly any of them leave more than a couple impressions—even many classics. But this one has remained crystal-clear in my mind. Elements, man.