Films for Breakfast

Derek Cianfrance had one of the most exciting runs of the early 2010s – the one-two punch of Blue Valentine and The Place Beyond the Pines cemented him, at least in my eyes, as one of cinema’s most compelling new voices of the 21st century. But after The Light Between Oceans back in 2016, he completely disappeared from the filmmaking scene, and I’ve never quite understood why. Nine years later, the GOAT returns with Roofman – a film that feels even more like a spiritual return to Pines than I ever could’ve hoped for.

Cianfrance has always excelled at telling stories about complicated people making questionable choices, sometimes over and over again, because they believe they’re doing what’s right. With Roofman, his empathetic yet darkly funny and tense lens finds the perfect match in Channing Tatum’s tremendous performance. He walks a fine line between aggravatingly charming and deeply endearing, constantly screwing up yet revealing more and more of what drives him to continually go down the road of crime.

Tatum’s chemistry with Kirsten Dunst is electric and completely humanistic. Their dynamic anchors the film emotionally, giving the chaos and absurdity a deeply human core. Dunst brings a brittle vulnerability that contrasts beautifully with Tatum’s impulsive warmth; together they create something that’s as funny and heartbreaking as anything else Cianfrance has directed. The sincerity of their relationship makes the inevitability of Jeff’s situation all the more melancholy and tragic; something that Cianfrance really enjoys capturing as a filmmaker.

The film’s comedic undercurrent is also one of its secret weapons. Cianfrance doesn’t often get credit for his sense of humor in his filmography, but Roofman finds him leaning into absurdism nicely; in fact, there’s something almost Coen-esque about the way the script finds levity in such a bizzarre story. The scenes of Jeffrey hiding out and living in a Toys R Us, based on the real-life story of Jeffrey Manchester, who famously lived undetected in the store’s ceiling/behind the walls for months while on the run, are both hilarious and mind-boggling in how it could possibly be real.

The film juggles its whirlwind of romance, deception, thrills, raw emotion, and pure absurdist comedy with far more grace and confidence than anyone could reasonably expect. It’s the kind of tonal tightrope walk that could’ve easily fallen apart, yet Cianfrance keeps it all grounded in genuine feeling and human messiness. By the end, Roofman works on just about every level – as a romantic farce, a tense true-crime drama, and a soulful character study; ultimately landing as a deeply satisfying return to form for Cianfrance after his long hiatus. Here’s hoping we don’t have to wait another nine years to see where he goes next.