“Money Heist,” the Spanish series that soared to international acclaim, has not only captivated audiences with its tension-wrought heists but also garnered a dedicated following that relishes its distinctive blend of drama and action. Despite the consensus that its final seasons failed to live up to the groundbreaking standard set by its initial offerings, there’s no denying that “Money Heist” became nothing short of a global phenomenon. The red jumpsuits and Salvador Dali masks that became synonymous with the show’s on-screen felons transcended the medium, inspiring copycat crimes in which real-world thieves donned the iconic attire. The question of whether lightning can indeed strike twice remains to be answered, but the precedent of successful franchises begetting spin-offs has held true; “Money Heist: Korea – Joint Economic Area” preceded, and now we are presented with “Berlin,” a series that delves into the past of the titular character.
“Berlin,” much like the heist-centered spectacle from which it spins, revolves around a meticulously executed robbery, replete with requisite contingencies and safecracks meant to appease thrill-seekers. However, where “Money Heist” intertwined personal drama with high-stakes theft, “Berlin” opts for a surprising focus on the romantic entanglements of its characters. This narrative choice comes to the forefront through a plot twist that sees the series’ central heist, involving the thievery of jewels worth 44 million, surprisingly concluded at the series’ mid-point over the course of its 8-episode arc. What follows is an interconnected web of passion and interpersonal drama, reframed within a manhunt.
Pedro Alonso reprises his role as Berlin, arguably one of the original series’ most enigmatic figures. Portrayed as a terminally ill maestro of misdeeds, his character oscillated between charming antihero and ruthless narcissist, whose ultimate sacrifice cemented his memorable status among the cast. Through Alonso’s charismatic performance, the series explores a character who is dramatically distinct from the cerebral sibling, The Professor, peeling back layers to reveal a man willing to go to great lengths in the name of love.
But in its quest to humanize its antiheroes, “Berlin” falters. Set prior to the events of the Bank of Spain heist, the robbery sequence itself pales in comparison to its predecessor, lacking the complexity and intrigue viewers had grown accustomed to. The pitfalls of “Money Heist,” wherein characters’ emotions derailed well-laid plans, are more frequent within “Berlin,” further undermined by secondary characters who feel derivative and underdeveloped compared to their iconic counterparts.
Despite intriguing narrative seeds — such as Berlin’s affair with a married woman and the parallel struggle of a teammate coping with adultery — the show fails to fully realize these threads. Clever quips on love and theft pepper the dialogue, and while familiar faces make surprise cameis, they serve as fleeting nostalgia rather than substantive additions. Regrettably, most attempts at fleshing out strong female characters fall flat in a show dogged by poor writing in this department.
Ultimately, “Berlin” presents a disappointingly superficial plot, replete with convenient twists and a weak payoff. Intended to chronicle the lives of skillful thieves whose hearts are as vulnerable to theft as the treasures they pilfer, the series instead commits the crime of squandering viewers’ time — six hours that might be more joyfully spent revisiting the anthemic ‘Bella Ciao.’ It’s a premise with potential, yet underwhelms, leaving fans to ponder what might have been if the love for larceny had been balanced with richer storytelling.
“Berlin” is now available for viewers seeking to delve back into the world of “Money Heist,” accessible through the global streaming platform, Netflix. As it stands, the show confronts the challenge of stepping out from the long shadow of its forebear, hoping to steal hearts in a different way but risking instead the heist of something far less rewarding: the audience’s indulgence.
