‘Banksters’ Review: A German Heist Series Inspired by a Real Story (HBO Max)

With HBO Max expanding across Europe, the platform has begun rolling out original series produced in those markets. It’s no coincidence that both Banksters in Germany and Portobello in Italy premiered around the same time as the service officially launched in those countries. Whether the studio’s strategy will change after its apparent acquisition by Paramount Global remains to be seen, but the trend reflects how increasingly international the streaming TV model has become. Unlike Portobello, whose Italian identity is visible in every frame, Banksters feels far more “universal”—a story that could easily take place in almost any Western country with only minor adjustments.

Created by Bernd Lange (known for 4 Blocks: Zero), the series starts with an intriguing premise based on real events but soon falls into the most familiar streaming formulas: hyperactive, music-video-style editing, functional dialogue that merely repeats the action, thinly sketched characters (with the exception of the lead), and a storytelling approach that feels determined above all to avoid giving the viewer even a moment to get bored. It’s entertaining for a while, but eventually even that isn’t quite enough.

Despite its stylistic clichés, the first episode shows promise, largely because of the world it introduces. Told across two timelines, Banksters moves between 2002 and 2004 and centers on Yusuf Arslan (Eren M. Güvercin), an 18-year-old German of Turkish descent who is arrested while playing a soccer match with his team. As we’ve already seen in the opening montage—because these shows can’t resist teasing the plot in advance—Yusuf is part of a group robbing banks, and the police have finally caught up with him.

From that point on, the narrative splits between the present (2004), where Yusuf must find a way to avoid conviction while an obsessive and somewhat racist detective pushes to put him away, and the past, where the story of the robberies unfolds. Meanwhile his older sister works behind the scenes to convince the rest of the crew to come forward, confess their roles, and return the money—assuming any of it remains—from the six banks they robbed. Adding to the mystery is an anonymous letter sent to the police identifying Yusuf as the culprit. No one knows who wrote it, and Yusuf refuses to betray his accomplices.

The flashbacks are where the series becomes more compelling. Yusuf is introduced as a model student with excellent grades who watches his father, a construction worker played by Numan Acar, sink deeper into debt while banks charge punishing interest rates. The resulting financial strain causes tension with his wife (Britta Hammelstein), and Yusuf decides to help his family by any means necessary. He eventually lands a job at a major Berlin bank and begins connecting with employees from other branches. What starts as small scams—credit card fraud, forged paperwork—gradually escalates. Once the group understands the institution’s internal systems, they begin robbing the very bank they work for.

This storyline—Yusuf’s family struggles and his gradual involvement with the group—is the show’s strongest element. It frames the robberies within the cruelty of a banking system that profits most from ordinary, low-income customers. “They’re the ones we make the most money from,” a bank manager tells Yusuf while explaining that his job is to recruit immigrants to open accounts. In the young man’s mind, that logic becomes a quiet justification for what he will eventually do.

Unfortunately, the series loses momentum once it turns to the backstories of Yusuf’s accomplices, which feel arbitrary and dramatically thin. There’s the awkward tech nerd Steven (Michelangelo Fortuzzi), living with his depressed mother after his father’s death; the arrogant Malte (Merlin von Garnier), whose wealthy father also works in banking; and the efficient but thrill-seeking Melanie (Maria Dragus), a married woman from a comfortable background who seems to crave excitement. None of them adds much to the story. In fact, Yusuf’s sister (Anna Bardavelidze) and younger brother (Momo Ramadan) are far more engaging characters than the crew itself.

The social drama—particularly the theme of police racism—gradually fades as Banksters settles into formula and begins repeating increasingly implausible plot turns, the kind that make you suspect the real story behind the series might be quite different. Outside Yusuf’s central arc—where he consistently seems one step ahead of everyone else—the rest of the show feels basic. The flat, personality-free direction doesn’t help either. It’s moderately entertaining and moves quickly, but it’s also the kind of series you forget about five minutes after it ends.