This Monday, as I prepare for air travel (aGAIN, and not for the last time this month, sigh), there’s really only one dude I’d like to be – billionaire art thief extraordinaire (though is there really a such thing as an ordinary billionaire art thief?) Thomas Crown.
I’m talking about the ’99 remake here, with the spicy Russo and the suave Brosnan and the everyman Leary and the the plinky Bill Conti pianoing. Man. I love that movie.
When I think about how cramped, tired, and uncomfortable I’m going to be for the next eight to twelve hours or so, I can’t help but want to emulate the unflappable, always-prepared Crown. As Russo’s character observes in the film, “You live very well.”
It goes without saying that he’s got his own jet – hell, he’s probably got a jet waiting at every international airport in the world. He’s also got a fleet of yachts (which we know because of his penchant for crashing them when he’s bored), as well as at least one glider, a fleet of rare old automobiles, and God knows what else. At least a few jetpacks, most likely, or maybe a Batmobile.
So, yeah – the guy has transportation down. What’s more, as he pulls off his last, greatest heist (that being, of course, the heist of Rene Russo’s heart), he does so in the aisles of an everyday commercial airliner. (Then again, they’re in first class, and they violently make out while everyone else is trying to sleep, so it’s still a couple of notches above my average air-travel experience.)
So, while in my head I’ll soaring in a glider over Connecticut, in reality I guess I’ll just read my book, play some DS, and try to ignore the giant fat guy next to me with the screaming infant.
If that won’t drive a man to art thievery, I don’t know what will.