As far as second-rate, made-for-second-screen TV goes, S.A. Nikias's Steal is perfectly okayish. It exists to dispense tense, hold-your-breath scenes that do little more than highlight the basic competence of the directors attached to it. They are Sam Miller and Hettie Macdonald, and they charge Nikias's script with shots that tightly hold the actors in frame during moments of urgency. The camera looks at these moments with wide, unblinking eyes, as if trying to place us in the middle of the unease—the physical and emotional conflict. When the employees of Lochmill Capital are held at gunpoint, and two workers, Zara (Sophie Turner) and Luke (Archie Madekwe), are forced by the thieves to help pull off the heist, we watch with a measure of anxiety. That anxiety, though, stems from basic sympathy. It is the sort of concern one extends to a fellow human being in crisis, in need.
That is the minor level of attachment Steal affords its characters. Even this feeling evaporates quickly once the show settles into being a well-oiled machine that produces twist after twist. Steal, in other words, resigns itself to becoming your next forgettable binge. The six episodes pass swiftly and efficiently, each one ending with a cliffhanger or reveal designed to keep you watching. This is a pity, given that Steal has just enough substance to elevate itself, at least a little. DCI Rhys (Jacob Fortune-Lloyd), for instance, has a gambling addiction and is drowning in debt. You would think the possibility of getting his hands on some of the £4 billion stolen by the thieves might render his behavior murkier, more suspect. Steal, alas, merely uses this detail as a tease. It does venture into this territory eventually, but the idea is casually introduced—and dropped just as casually.
Zara, too, is thinly defined. Her traits, background, and relationships are flattened and filtered to fit the needs of the script. Her estranged relationship with her mother, her friendship with a colleague, her romantic entanglement with Rhys, her cunning, her resourcefulness—all are treated as buttons to be pushed in service of the plot. Zara becomes little more than a puppet who, by asking questions like "What did the robbers want?" and "Who's the mastermind?", stokes the flames of suspense and directs the viewer's attention wherever the narrative requires. Turner, however, brings Zara to life with sheer commitment and energy. Without her, the character would have registered as limp.
Without venturing into spoilers, let's just say the story gestures toward—rather than meaningfully engages with—the troubles of the common man. There is no public outrage, no dinner-table debate among the very people whose grievances supposedly motivate the mastermind. The common man is denied a voice. This further reduces Steal to a slick but superficial exercise that uses a man's good intentions as a tool to lend credibility to its final reveal. To call this laughable would be an understatement. I found myself wondering why Nikias even bothered with this I-care-for-the-people angle. Why not push the plot into outright absurdity and have some fun with it? Turner, at least, seems game for something deliriously trashy. Instead, the show traps her in something sterile.
One then tries to find amusement elsewhere—namely, in Eloise Thomas's Myrtle, who appears to be operating on an entirely different frequency. She could have been airdropped from another series altogether, one whose motto might well be "Just chill." I couldn't help but smile at the ease with which this woman absorbs trauma and moves on, flashing a casual grin as she resumes her life. She seems blissfully lost in her own world. I would very much like to have whatever the hell she is smoking.
Final Score- [4/10]
Reviewed by - Vikas Yadav
Follow @vikasonorous on Twitter
Publisher at Midgard Times
Note: All 6 episodes are screened for this review.
Premiere Date: January 21, 2026, on Prime Video