To be able to endure isolation one needs to forge a character that is impenetrable, dense and vigorous, but then the power of solitude can make one invincible.
The story of the film is based on a simple but compelling premise: Trojan, now isolated from his old network, cut off from the world of crime and aging, is presented with a tempting opportunity. He is tasked with stealing a valuable painting by Caspar David Friedrich, a German Romantic artist known for his landscapes that exude melancholy and introspection – qualities that reflect his own outdated state of mind. It’s a job that promises him €1.4 million, enough to fade quietly into obscurity or restart his life, but requires him to work with three strangers, an arrangement fraught with suspicion and danger.
Trojan’s associates are a motley crew of criminals, each with their own motivations and skills, but what unites them all is a deep and unrelenting desperation. Arslan is less concerned with making his characters likable or lucid and more focused on presenting them as complex figures shaped by circumstance. The plan for the heist, which involves breaking into a museum warehouse to steal the painting, is meticulously constructed. The precision of the execution reflects the narrative style of the creator – studied, calculated and always grounded in the harsh reality of the criminal life.
However, the heist itself is not the heart of the film. The real tension begins once the painting is in their hands. Instead of receiving their promised reward, Trojan and his associates are doubly betrayed by the anonymous client. Arslan deftly subverts typical expectations of the heist genre, turning the heist into a simple prelude to what’s to come – a survival thriller. Betrayed and hunted the bandits quickly realize they are expendable.
Thomas Arslan presents a gritty, low-key film noir, a crime drama that returns us to the enigmatic and brooding world of Troyan, a character last seen in Arslan’s 2010 film Into the Shadows. Arslan’s vision is a vision of stripped-down realism, where crime unfolds not with flashy action scenes, but with a methodical, almost procedural sense of inevitability.
Where Heist Berlin sets itself apart from other heist films is in its portrayal of the consequences of failure. The cold-blooded efficiency of the executioner sent to exterminate them adds a fatalistic dimension to the narrative – when things go wrong, there is no escape. Arslan dwells on the inevitability of death and punishment, making the film more a meditation on violence and trust than a traditional detective adventure.
Caspar David Friedrich’s painting, central to the heist, takes on symbolic significance. Known for his works that often depict solitary figures in vast, desolate landscapes, the painter’s art reflects Troyan’s own isolation and the existential emptiness of his world.
In Berlin Heist, Arslan delivers a slow-moving thriller that uses the structure of a heist film to explore deeper themes of betrayal, survival, and the futility of escaping your past. Trojan’s return to crime and ultimately violence reflects his inability to truly leave the world he inhabits. The film is a character study wrapped in the tight, unrelenting structure of a crime thriller, where the real heist is the illusion of control in a world ruled by chaos and betrayal.
#Berlin #Heist #Loneliness #Dark #Amorality
