Washington, in front of the National Archives.
Long barriers split the road from the sidewalk. Brianna Bentner stood among the onlookers on the sidewalk, looking across to where a temporary track had been laid; several crew members were mounting a camera on it. No asking was needed—this was clearly a film or TV shoot.
The National Archives, the nearby Lincoln Memorial, and the Washington Monument are all nationally famous landmarks, and productions shoot here all the time. Brianna Bentner had seen plenty and thought nothing of it.
Still, as a young girl who'd only recently caught star-fever, she stayed to watch.
Across the street she could make out people shuttling back and forth. A tall man stepped down from a large trailer, back turned to her as he spoke to a shorter man in a baseball cap. The shorter one looked like the director, barking orders at others while talking to the tall guy.
For some reason Brianna Bentner found the tall man's back familiar—he looked exactly like her favorite actor.
But she'd never seen him in person; without a look at his face she couldn't be sure.
The crew seemed efficient; after a short while they began rolling. She knew the road in front of the National Archives couldn't be closed for long.
At the director's call the tall man stepped out from behind a truck, a cylindrical tube on his back, and walked forward. From her angle she caught a clear profile of the actor.
Brianna Bentner's eyes snapped wide, excitement flooding her face. Noticing crew nearby, she quickly clapped a hand over her mouth, trapping the cry that almost escaped.
A crew member had just come over asking the crowd to keep quiet during the take.
Shoots are common on Washington streets; most passers-by stay calm and rarely shout or disrupt.
She stared at the man on set, absolutely certain it was Matthew Horner—the lead she'd fallen for after watching pirates of the caribbean last year.
"Didn't expect to run into him here," she murmured.
"Wonder if I can get an autograph."
As she muttered, she saw Matthew Horner reach a large van, glance warily around, slip the tube off his back, and stand beside the vehicle.
The director called cut, went over to speak briefly, then walked away; filming resumed.
Brianna ignored everything else, eyes fixed on Matthew Horner. Even just standing there he radiated a wild, masculine, powerful aura that drew her in.
"Must be another super-manly role, right?" she whispered.
She glanced again: plain jacket, yet the sheer masculine presence was off the charts.
Suddenly a gorgeously dressed blonde strode into view—strikingly beautiful, with distinct Nordic or Germanic features. Whether by costume or performance, Brianna sensed poise, nobility, glamour, and sex appeal all at once.
Undeniably a stunning, classy blonde beauty.
"Don't tell me she's the female lead?" Brianna mumbled.
She looked the part: the blonde argued with Matthew Horner and even snatched the tube from him.
Cut was called again; the short director came over, spoke, the blonde walked off, and they redid the shot.
As the crew broke for a rest, many onlookers left. Brianna pulled out her phone and speed-dialed her roommate, voice trembling with excitement. "Alice, guess who I just saw? Guess!"
She gestured wildly, all the pent-up excitement bursting out now.
"I saw Matthew! Matthew!" she practically squealed. "Matthew Horner—my favorite actor!"
She glanced toward the van; Matthew still stood there, looking impossibly handsome and cool.
"He's even hotter and cooler in person than on screen!" she yelled into the phone. "I'm getting his autograph—no matter what! What? You want one too? Can't leave work? Fine, I'll try for two!"
She hung up, calmed a little, and the crew started shooting again.
Gradually, she noticed more and more young people gathering along the roadside, and the name Matthew Horner kept popping up in their conversations—everyone seemed to adore him.
Some even scrawled "Matthew Horner, I love you!" on sheets of paper and hoisted the banners overhead.
Half an hour later, the crew appeared to have finished shooting; a staff member rolled up the barricades, and Brianna Bentner hurried across the street to the production's parking area.
She wasn't alone—the youngsters all surged forward.
"Matthew Horner!"
"Matthew…"
"An autograph, Matthew!"
Shouts erupted in chaotic chorus, and the set's security blocked Brianna Bentner and the others.
The commotion caught the crew's attention; Brianna saw Matthew Horner step down from his trailer, speak briefly with a unit manager, and head their way.
"Matthew! Matthew…"
In an instant the crowd grew wilder. "Matthew!"
Someone yelled, "Will Turner! I want Will Turner's autograph!"
Caught in the crush, Brianna Bentner hoped Matthew Horner would sign for her, too.
"Quiet! Settle down!" a guard bellowed. "If you keep this up, I'll have to escort Matthew away."
The words worked like magic; the area fell silent, and when Matthew approached, the fans queued in orderly fashion for signatures.
Ten minutes later Brianna had two autographs and a photo with Matthew. The print would take a while, but his assistant took her number and promised to mail it once developed.
"He's so charismatic!" Brianna walked off contentedly. "Utterly manly!"
After signing for some supporters, Matthew boarded the crew's van to the next location. Two weeks of shooting around Washington had been a constant shuttle; this was the nation's capital, after all, and even with city support the production couldn't close any area for long.
Jerry Bruckheimer and Jon Turteltaub had chosen many historic landmarks, but in the post-9/11 era filming in sensitive zones was no easy task.
Although the crew had permission to shoot inside the Lincoln Memorial, the Park Service didn't want visitors disturbed, so only partial coverage could be arranged.
Yesterday at the National Archives the restrictions were even tighter; few are allowed to bring movie cameras inside, let alone an entire crew.
They filmed for just one afternoon, capturing only key, hard-to-replicate shots; the rest would be recreated later on Disney Studios soundstages back in Los Angeles.
Because the real declaration of independence can't be filmed for preservation and security reasons, the production hired experts to craft a flawless replica.
Since the movie tells an outlandish treasure-hunt story in a hyper-realistic style, boosting the credibility of those scenes was essential.
The crew paid a premium for a genuine treasure hunter to advise Matthew on-set, much like an Action Director choreographs fights.
To keep every detail authentic, Jerry Bruckheimer not only hired a real treasure hunter for his lead actor but also brought in a code-breaking expert to coach Matthew through the script's cryptographic puzzles.
For someone as academically idle as Matthew, the code work proved tougher than any stunt.
After wrapping the Archives exteriors, Matthew and company moved to an FBI training facility in Quantico to film the hero's theft of the Declaration.
Hollywood and the U.S. government have always been cozy; Jerry Bruckheimer enjoys close ties with The Pentagon and the FBI, and during prep he enlisted an FBI crime specialist to design the heist plan.
Stored in Washington's National Archives under cutting-edge, top-tier security, the Declaration required the filmmakers to consult insiders on how to breach the building. They dressed an FBI training hall to double as the high-security location.
The shoot went smoothly; Matthew executed the experts' plan and "stole" the Declaration without a hitch.
Day's work done, back at the Hilton Hotel in downtown D.C., Matthew invited several principal castmates for drinks at the bar.