For the most part, heist movies are pure adrenaline and catharsis. But Nokas is a whole other beast, prioritizing awkward silence and clerical errors over cool slow-motion scenes and well laid-out plans. Based on the real-life 2004 bank robbery in Stavanger, Norway, director Erik Skjoldbjærg doesn’t glamorize crime, he simply stands back and watches events unravel as they happened, sans high-speed chases and tense music cues. The end result is slow, unshakable realism.
Nokas defies expectations not through elaborate scenarios, but by embracing the idea that the truth is often stranger than fiction. This is the kind of movie where police dogs are literally on vacation, and the robbers spend more time pacing than shooting. This level of absurdity is never played for laughs, in fact, this isn’t that type of movie at all. Nevertheless, it’s everywhere — embedded in the culture, the law enforcement, and even the mellow confusion of bystanders who can’t quite believe what’s really happening. Void of the usual flash and bang, Nokas delivers a minute-by-minute procedural created entirely on eyewitness testimony. So, you won’t find any emotional backstories, larger-than-life antiheroes, or monologues about why they did it. Rather, the robbers hardly say a word, the cops are borderline clueless, and when someone dies, it’s not some plot twist, it’s genuinely tragic.
‘Nokas’ Recreates a Crime Scene Without Making It Look Cool
There’s a big difference between showing a crime and celebrating it, and Nokas walks that tightrope better than most. Right from the get-go, the film establishes that this isn’t a slick Hollywood robbery with elaborate plans and slow-motion takes. It’s messy, loud, and as fear-inducing as they come. It ditches the cool lighting and dramatic music, and instead the film taps into the worst type of anxiety — the kind that’s built on the mundane. Nokas kicks off on a sleepy Stavanger morning, with police officers having casual chats and civilians going about their usual day. Then, when the robbery goes down, there’s no dramatic score, it’s just real-time panic. The robbers bark orders, but there’s a bit of confidence lacking, as you can see them fumbling with equipment and moving with the jittery energy of people who are well aware that things could go south any moment.
Perhaps one of the film’s smartest choices is to use handheld cameras and tons of long takes to keep everything grounded. The effect? It’s like watching CCTV footage instead of a movie. The robbers here are clad in bulky clothing and even scream at the sound of their own gunfire. These are clearly not the suave criminal masterminds that usually dominate the screens, they come across as actual people. It’s hard not to feel the chaos over the usual thrill. Then there’s the aftermath, which is primarily confusion and grieving officers. Hands down, the real proof in the pudding is how the film ends. There’s no drawn-out chase or shocking plot twist, it just stops, much like it often does in real life when there’s a traumatic event. In a nutshell, Nokas prioritizes disorientation and human cost over a clean-cut robbery. Clearly, the aim here is simply to show how things really went down, void of any movie magic to dampen the effect of this real-life tragedy.
‘Nokas’ Turns Armed Robbery Into the Most Awkward Day at Work Ever
Even though Nokas is based on real events, some parts of the story come off as if they were written as a dark comedy. One of the most unforgettable aspects of the film is how confused everyone is. It’s an epidemic spreading from the civilians to the cops and even the robbers. No one seems to know what’s going on, and it’s not only hilarious, it’s horrifying. Take the cops, for instance, a handful of them are a few blocks away when the robbery starts, but instead of doing the movie-like thing of immediately springing into action, they’re searching for bulletproof vests that are in the wrong car. One officer has to awkwardly climb into a parked van to find his gear while gunshots are echoing down the street. It’s pure panic, and no one has a handle on the situation.
Then there’s a random guy pushing a stroller who unknowingly walks right into the chaos, only to be yelled at to leave. Or the bank workers trying to make sense of the events unraveling outside while they’re crouched behind desks, hiding for their lives. Even the shopkeeper across the street seems more annoyed than afraid. This messiness isn’t accidental, it’s the point of the entire film. Skjoldbjærg leans into the sheer unpreparedness, because while there are drills for bank staff and training for law enforcement, no one wakes up fully prepared for a full-on armed robbery in broad daylight. The confusion makes the violence hit harder because it mirrors what would happen in real life, without leaving out the messiness and awkwardness.