A bizarre thing I never hear people mention is the fact that art theft is, practically, the most illogical type of theft.
(I'd also like to take a moment to clarify, I'm not promoting art theft or, well, crime of any type. I just found myself intrigued. This happens a lot. I also don't live in France, this will become important in a moment.)
Consider it in terms of practicality for a moment - I'm going to use the Mona Lisa as an example as it's very well known. Let's take a look at what we can do here!
To begin with - the version actually shown in the public is probably a copy. It's known that the original is indeed owned by the Louvre, but theories suggest that they tend to display copies because of the fact that, well, it's a one-of-a-kind art piece that's literally the most famous painting in the world. I can't say this for certain, though, so let's presume for the sake of argument that they're displaying the original.
Problem two. As you can see, it's in an climate-controlled, bulletproof, airtight glass box. You're very, very unlikely to be able to even open the box in question, because it'll take time - time that you won't have. The room's filled with cameras, and a constant patrol of guards (the Louvre has around
1,200 security guards, so you're going to have to bring a small militia of your own if you want to handle them with a more violent tactic.)
Let's say you've got the painting in your hands and you've just stepped outside of the Louvre. Now, given the amount of surveillance we're talking here (and we're presuming for the sake of argument that you're planning to steal, not destroy, it,) the Louvre
know you have the Mona Lisa. This means the police are around, and that includes helicopters and likely armed guards. Sure, they don't want to damage the painting, but you're not likely to get out... so let's hypothesise that you have like, a drag car or something and you've somehow, by some miracle, evaded much of the Parisian police force.
...see, this is where the practical problems really start. See, you have in your hands a work of art that's worth approximately $860,000,000 today (taking into account inflation and presuming the value estimated in 1964 hasn't changed.) Notably, however, it's one of a kind. If you want to make money, you're in a pickle. Compare this to, for instance, stealing a car - change the registration plates, and very few people would be unwilling to buy it unless you looked really shifty or something. However... art theft poses a problem.
You're not likely to be able to sell it to a congolmerate, so we're talking selling it to a billionaire here (even if you sell it at a lower price, we're talking someone who's worth is in the millions.) The black market isn't an option - it's not airtight, and besides, such high numbers would set off red flags with Interpol (or any other organisation you're talking.) That means you'll need to make a physical, cash-in-hand transaction, but let's be honest - they're easily intercepted. It's an individual, irreplacable object, meaning there's only one instance of it. Copies would easily be worked out - the method by which Da Vinci's brushstrokes were used are the equivalent to basic division for the average art buff.
You're going to be in possession of an object that you cannot let anyone know exists in your possession, and any attempt to sell it or even pass it on will almost definately be used against you - the risk factor is too high compared to the reward that either the Louvre, Interpol, or any other interested folks, would offer in return. It's not as simple as Nicholas Cage would have you believe.
The thing is, art theft is just... illogical. You'd be better off stealing nearly anything else, purely in terms of practicality. I think the reason art theft is such an appealing concept is simply due to the nature of what it represents - a combination of intelligence, meticulous planning, and off-the-cuff thinking. The nature of art theft isn't so much about the theft, but about the
art - the theft in itself becomes an artform of it's own. After all, the level of difficulty in preparing for every concieable permutation of events is incredible!
And, well, clearly I'm not the only one who takes an interest. The concept of the Gentleman Thief has been around for decades - one of the earliest examples being Arsene Lupin, a direct inspiration behind beloved series like Lupin the Third, Persona 5, the original Pink Panther, and then even concepts of similar real-life individuals still acting as sources of intrigue, such as Willie Sutton, Black Bart or "D.B. Cooper." I feel that the concept of introducing a sense of chivalry and flair to such a brutish thing as theft is a reflection of style in its purest form - giving a truly unique look at what would otherwise be a terrifying reality of our world. I'll say this much - a good heist will always be a truly intriguing thing, regardless of the morality of it.