How ‘Point Break’ Inspired One of America’s Great Bank Robbers

Point Break is a masterpiece of stylish macho-Zen California crime cinema, and thus it’s no shock to learn that it was also the inspiration for one of the greatest bank robbery sprees in recent American history. How to Rob a Bank (June 5, on Netflix) tells the true story of a crook nicknamed “Hollywood” who, taking his cue from Kathryn Bigelow’s 1991 Keanu Reeves-Patrick Swayze gem, pulled off 19 stickups at various Seattle banks between 1992 and 1996 for a total haul of $2.3 million. As it turns out, Hollywood didn’t get to enjoy the fruits of his illicit labor for long. Yet the thrill of directors Stephen Robert Morse and Seth Porges’ documentary isn’t the sad destination so much as the wild journey—and the ride they detail proves to be full of the very thrills one might expect from a summer blockbuster.

Considering its subject’s fondness for the movies, as well as its flamboyant saga of daring heists, outrageous disguises, and outlandish hidden lairs, How to Rob a Bank fittingly embellishes itself with animated storyboard panels and dramatic recreations shot like a big-screen feature. Morse and Porges’ film is set in the early-’90s Pacific Northwest—an era in which Seattle’s fortunes exploded thanks to the rise of Starbucks, Amazon, and Microsoft. This tech boom brought a “flood of money” and, with it, an influx of banks. With great cash came great thieving opportunities for the city’s wrongdoers, and it wasn’t long before law enforcement was spending substantial time and resources trying to stem the rising tide of felonies.

Even in this chaotic environment, Hollywood was clearly different, not only because of his success but because of his methods. Wearing facial prosthetics to conceal his identity and a D.A.R.E. cap to suggest that he was a cop (and, additionally, to thumb his nose at investigators), the criminal was a “professional” who committed almost all his robberies on his own inside the bank. Demonstrating an impressive crowd-control presence and a deep knowledge of the establishments’ security protocols, Hollywood was a cut above the usual smash-and-grab pack. Still, that wasn’t initially apparent, given that his early bounties were rather pitiful, lowlighted by second, third, and fourth robberies that each netted him less than $10,000. To lead FBI agent Shawn Johnson, this indicated that Hollywood and his accomplices were “bumbling idiots.” Such an opinion, however, didn’t last long.

On Nov. 19, 1992, Hollywood entered the Seafirst Hawthorne Hills bank by himself, cleaned out the vault—a new target for the crook—and exited with $252,000, bringing his ill-gotten gains to a whopping $322,870. That was a “game-changer” for the FBI task force led by Supervisory Special Agent Ellen Glasser, who partnered Johnson with Seattle Police Department detective Mike Magan. Like any good Tinseltown-esque tale, How to Rob a Bank derives extra dramatic friction from the tensions between Johnson and Magan, who in separate interviews talk about being “oil and water” and debate which one was the “the brains” and which was “the brawn.” Even at the triumphant end of their story, they voice criticisms of the other’s decisions and actions, to humorously prickly ends.

While Johnson and Magan are a colorful pair, How to Rob a Bank’s primary personality is Hollywood, who’s soon revealed to be Scott Scurlock. Through interviews with friends, his sister Suzanne, and his cohorts Steve Meyers and Mark Biggins, the film elucidates Scurlock’s backstory as a Virginia-raised kid whose lifelong disobedient streak truly flourished at hippy-dippy Evergreen State College. Despite being one credit away from graduating with degrees in chemistry and biology, Scurlock was expelled for cooking crystal meth. He responded by continuing to be a proto-Walter White, and that profitable enterprise helped fund a lifestyle that was built around a massive multi-level treehouse that he constructed in the forest near Olympia. As home movies illustrate, that abode was an amazing feat of engineering, and it became an isolated sanctuary for Scurlock and those in his orbit, who were charmed by his easy-going charisma and generosity.

Little did some of them know, however, that upon the collapse of his drug business, Scurlock—enchanted by Swayze’s surfer-robber Bodhi from Point Break—transformed himself into the notorious Hollywood. How to Rob a Bank deepens its portrait by contrasting Scurlock’s private and “public” lives while depicting the ins and outs of his high-stakes robberies courtesy of the first-hand testimony of Biggins and Meyers, the latter an integral partner in his heists. From discussions about their reasons for hitting the same banks more than once, to the measures they took to throw police off their scent, to the ingenious way in which they laundered their stolen cash—Scurlock would place equal bets in Reno on both teams playing in a professional game, thereby “winning” the exact amount he’d wagered, albeit in new bills—the film provides a sharp 1990s-era guide to taking financial institutions for all they’re worth.

How to Rob a Bank ramps up during its last half hour, as Scurlock’s feats escalate both in terms of his hauls and his manner; though he was never overtly violent during his robberies, more than one traumatized bank employee discusses his scarily aggressive and threatening conduct. Things came to a head on Nov. 27, 1996 (Thanksgiving Eve), when Scurlock and Meyers took the Lake City branch of Seafirst Bank for over $1 million, only to struggle to locate the tracers they knew had been placed among the cash. The result was a vicious shootout that ended with Scurlock first escaping capture and then, upon being cornered in a nearby camper, ending his life. It was a seemingly inevitable end for a man who had no interest in playing by the rules, and even less desire to spend decades behind bars. In the sort of twist that sounds like a screenwriter penned it, his demise was followed by the sudden and total collapse of his beloved treehouse.

Morse and Porges pace and stage their climax with pulse-pounding energy that brings the fatal scene to life. In doing so, they subtly cast their conclusion as a nightmare come true for their protagonists, who had earlier gone to the movies to see Heat and become terrified of getting caught in an all-out firefight with authorities.