Roofman Review - An absurd story. Funny, poignant, and somehow... all true.

Chase Gifford
Oct 10
5 min read

“He who tells a lie is not sensible of how great a task he undertakes; for he must be forced to invent twenty more to maintain that one.” - Alexander Pope

One of the simplest but most beautiful things about cinema is the unexpected. Whatever form that may be can be as varied as film itself. A comedy can be surprisingly poignant or a drama can have a funnier side. An action movie can be more than a mindless explosion fest by featuring a pensive perspective. The hero will destroy half the city chasing after the bad guys but then they’ll feel really bad about it. They’ll question their place in the degradation of their city as crime runs rampant.

A story about a man robbing forty-five McDonald’s and living in a Toys”Я”Us can really go either way. Funny, dramatic or some fantastic mix of the two. In the case of Roofman, it does both brilliantly and poetically so. First it establishes the extraordinary at the behest of a man with a rifle and a need to provide for his family. Then, quite early on, he’ll get caught. End of story, right? You couldn’t be more wrong than if you tried to wear socks and shoes on your hands instead of your now cold feet.

Him getting caught is only the beginning.

Derek Cianfrance directs from his own screenplay co-written by Kirt Gunn, producer of the highly underrated Sound of Metal, also written by Cianfrance. Most of Cianfrance’s work are of a more morose nature, The Place Beyond the Pines, Blue Valentine, and The Light Between Oceans. Roofman, despite exploring many serious themes like humanity, capitalism, and morality, it has a surprising amount of humor and a sense of hope. It examines what a second chance means and how sometimes it’s not always in the way we would prefer. For Jeffrey Manchester, the Roofman, he finds a doomed kind of second chance in the form of Leigh Wainscott, played by Kirsten Dunst. It’s doomed, and Jeffrey knows this, because he is living a lie compounded by innumerable other lies that will inevitably come crashing down. It is a tragic kind of hopefulness, a reprieve from the impending truth.

Roofman is about a man in his own way. He has everything going for him but a life of terrible decisions has cornered him. His daughter loves him, young and impressionable as she is, but his ex-wife has reached her limit with Jeffrey and his time left before she ultimately takes their daughter away is rapidly approaching zero hour. Extremely smart but somehow incredibly stupid, Jeffrey opts for a life of crime to regain his good graces by way of armed robbery. Does he go after banks? No. Convenience stores? That would make too much sense. If you were thinking he would knock over a McDonald’s, roughly forty-five of them, you likely read what I wrote earlier. The funny thing is, for a while, it actually worked. He was able to buy his way back into their lives under totally false pretenses. Then, one day, it fell through and the police found their “roofman” robber. And he was to repay his crimes with forty-five years of his life.

This was simply unacceptable to Jeffrey and so he planned and schemed, as he excelled at, and made his escape. This time he was no longer a faceless criminal and had to hide out until things calmed down. His choice of refuge? A Toys”Я”Us. Finding a place no one would ever think to look, he steals his provisions, a mattress and sets up security cameras hidden throughout the store. He then hunkers down and stays out of sight and hopefully out of mind. This should be where the story ends but it’s merely half time and there’s plenty of game left to play. Again, he’s careful, meticulous but somehow simultaneously inept and in his clouded judgement decides to strike up a relationship with one of the store employees, Leigh. And the clock ticking to his demise begins its final countdown.

He was a likeable man. He was confident, assured, and kind. He was present and a good listener. It seemed like his entire purpose was to make others happy. His new persona, John Zorn, was a diamond in the rough for Leigh and far better than any loser like Jeffrey Manchester. And for Jeffrey, “John”, Leigh was a possibility at something new. Something he never had before and even though he knew it was destined to fall apart, he couldn’t resist whatever time he did have with her. And no matter how dishonest he was, he still cherished her, and her, him.

Channing Tatum plays Jeffrey. He is subtle and conflicted but effortlessly charming. He’s unbelievably clever and Tatum portrays this real life man with a warmth and genuine respect. Through his performance he never seeks to justify what Jeffrey did but rather he tries to prove that we are not our biggest mistakes in life. We can be more than this and Tatum’s portrayal is wonderfully funny but without ever losing his sense of humanity even at this man’s lowest. The relationship on screen between Tatum’s Jeffrey and Dunst’s Leigh is the heart of the film. It’s sweet, simple, and touching. There is an undeniable chemistry between them and it carries the film beyond Jeffrey’s countless mistakes. For a while, we are all taken to a better place with Jeffrey, however short lived it would end up. And by his side is Leigh, supportive and hopeful in the man she begins to fall for.

As Leigh, Kirsten Dunst is independent but lonely. She is loving and understanding. She portrays acceptance and an earnestness to better her own life and the lives of her two daughters. She sees this new presence in her life, Jeffrey, as a way to bring them closer. She is tragically open and Dunst brings a lightness to her character that is engrossing and all at once doomed. She is a character standing on the train tracks and she doesn’t hear the horn blaring from behind her. But in the meantime, she is revelatory and impressively truthful.

Roofman is a real surprise of 2025. I didn’t expect it to be as good as it is. While maybe a bit long, it mostly earns its runtime allowing for characters to develop and grow by influence of others. Everything about this feels lived in. The clothing and dwellings absolutely but more than that it’s about the definitive time this all took place with characters as natural as a rain storm. Tatum and Dunst are especially profound and endlessly watchable. There is a lot of turmoil here but the moments between are heartfelt and filled with genuine human connection. It’s a story of simplicity ruined by terrible decisions by a man who mostly means well but simply cannot get out of his own way. As a result, he pulls down everyone he touches in one way or another. It’s all bizarrely true and therefore perfect in its own right.