Roofman evokes the charm of a major studio film from a decade or more ago, and that’s precisely its strength. Before the advent of streaming, audiences actively sought out enjoyable Saturday-night date movies, and Roofman successfully delivers on several fronts: it features captivating lead actors, one of whom impressively showcases dancing; it centers on an improbable yet heartwarming romance; and it includes a rebellious thrill of law-breaking and evasion, at least for a period. The movie’s trailer accurately portrays Roofman as a spirited romantic comedy, capturing more than half of its essence.
However, roughly two-thirds into the film, Roofman subtly, almost imperceptibly, shifts towards a more somber tone. Over the past decade, there’s been extensive discussion about a in , though its precise definition remains elusive. Boys are reportedly experiencing lower confidence than their female counterparts and underperforming academically. Adult men often feel threatened and uncertain, both professionally and personally. While Roofman doesn’t directly address these societal issues, it resonates with the themes of inadequacy some men feel, particularly regarding family life—a concept they idealize and yearn for, perhaps precisely because they struggle to maintain it. This echoes the signature works of Cianfrance from the early 2000s, such as (2010) and The Place Beyond the Pines (2012). Roofman functions as a comedy until its narrative turns, telling the story of a man whose self-proclaimed “bad choices” lead to his banishment from the family life he most craves, not just once, but twice.
Channing Tatum portrays Jeffrey Manchester, a former soldier sentenced to 45 years in prison for robbing multiple McDonald’s restaurants. He escaped in 2004, hoping to build a new life, and incredibly, managed to live undetected for six months in a Charlotte, N.C., Toys”R”Us store. Manchester ingeniously devised methods for entering and exiting his makeshift dwelling and even began a relationship with Leigh Wainscott, a local single mother portrayed in the film by Kirsten Dunst. The movie’s title, Roofman—a nickname for Manchester due to his method of breaching establishments by drilling through their roofs—highlights the eccentric humor in his survival tactics. These included a steady diet of baby food and peanut M&Ms, the only provisions he could find within his new, de facto prison walls. His pursuit of Leigh, whom he encounters at a local church, possesses a genuine, wholesome sweetness. Manchester presents her children with gifts of (stolen) toys and video games, treating Leigh with a charmingly clumsy gallantry.
Tatum excels in this type of role. Leigh is employed at the very Toys”R”Us where Manchester is secreted away. Out of a mix of boredom and a desire to remain undetected, he sets up a monitor to observe the store’s daytime activities, allowing him to watch Leigh work without being able to speak to her. This dynamic shifts upon learning of a Christmas toy drive at her church. When the demanding store manager (portrayed with exaggerated villainy by an unnamed actor) refuses to donate, Manchester personally delivers a bag of (stolen) toys to the church. The welcoming church ladies readily accept him; when asked his name, he spontaneously utters “John Zorn.” (This detail will amuse those familiar with the respected avant-garde saxophonist and composer, a notable figure in the 1970s downtown New York music scene.) He informs them he performs secret government work. They invite him to a singles brunch at a local Red Lobster, where he finds himself at a table surrounded by hopeful single women, all in middle age, including Leigh. He flatters them as he takes the head seat: “I thought this was a singles brunch, not a supermodels brunch!” Tatum possesses a naturally bright and open demeanor, making him an ideal choice to play a character who navigates life through fabrications and deceit.
The film effectively conveys Manchester’s motivations. The initial part of the movie illustrates how he lost his first family: a wife, infant twins, and an eight-year-old daughter he adored. The opening scene depicts his struggle to provide his then-six-year-old daughter with the birthday party she deserved, having failed to stabilize his life after leaving the military. His closest friend, Steve (portrayed by an unnamed actor), an old army comrade, highlights Manchester’s keen observational skills, his ability to notice details others miss. This talent leads him to begin robbing McDonald’s restaurants, though he makes a point of being considerate about it: before locking a group of trembling McDonald’s employees in a cold-storage locker, he even offers his own coat to one (played by Tony Revolori), who is dressed only in short sleeves.
Throughout the film, Manchester maintains he is a good person, and largely, he is. He cares for others and aims to avoid causing harm. However, Tatum masterfully reveals the flaws in Manchester’s thinking; at the core of his actions lies a distinctly selfish form of deception. The movie includes numerous scenes of Tatum’s Manchester dancing—sometimes unclothed—through the deserted aisles of the Toys”R”Us store at night. (For those who long to see Tatum in a musical, these moments serve as a delightful substitute.) Yet, Tatum’s performance extends beyond mere charm. Occasionally, a cold detachment surfaces in Manchester’s eyes, hinting at his belief that his deserving of happiness entitles him to simply seize it. His motivations are not entirely pure; they border on a sense of entitlement. Despite this, audiences still find themselves sympathizing with him.
This intricate emotional interplay is what makes Roofman so compelling. Kirsten Dunst’s contribution is vital here. In a crucial scene, Leigh’s initial joyful radiance—her happiness at seemingly having found a good man—gradually gives way to a veil of doubt and suspicion; Dunst portrays this transition with a subtlety akin to watching the moon slowly recede into the distance. Roofman is partly a whimsical adventure: it’s entertaining to watch a clever, amiable character like Tatum’s Manchester outwit the system. However, all of Manchester’s actions are rooted in his distorted perception of what defines a man. He even vocalizes, more than once, his recognition of his fundamental error: he attempted to provide his “families” with everything money could buy, when their true desire was simply his presence. He temporarily succeeded in circumventing the system. But the truly insurmountable challenge was escaping himself.
