Let me say at the outset: I love art. I think we should take care of it. Don’t steal art, please.
But I must confess I also love art heists. They take two elements that seem diametrically opposed — fancy museums and gritty criminal underworlds — and slam them into each other. I love the idea of guys in Hamburglar costumes (yes I know they don’t wear Hamburglar costumes) running around with Rembrandts rolled under their arms, narrowly escaping, I don’t know, the Keystone Kops. Or sleek, sophisticated movie stars in black turtlenecks swiping beautiful statues and hiding them, smiling wryly when the TV news broadcaster announces there’s been a robbery.
I just love it. Give me all of it.
Given this undeniable appeal, the…