
‘Roofman’ Viennale Review: Channing Tatum and Kirsten Dunst in Derek Cianfrance’s Strange, Sweet Crime Romance
After escaping from prison, a charming thief hides inside a Toys “R” Us store while falling for a divorced employee, risking everything for a shot at connection and redemption. Derek Cianfrance turns a real-life oddity into a tender, offbeat love story.
A mix of thriller, romantic drama, and absurd comedy, Roofman might not be the kind of movie you expect to see at a film festival—but that’s part of what makes it so enjoyable. A lighthearted caper that gradually turns into a love story about a peculiar small-time thief, the film stars Channing Tatum and Kirsten Dunst and is directed by Derek Cianfrance, yet its tone is worlds apart from his earlier, emotionally raw works like Blue Valentine or The Place Beyond the Pines. If anything, it belongs to the tradition of “American picaresque” movies—those quirky tales about oddballs who somehow manage to outsmart everyone around them without ever really being caught.
Based on a true story from the early 2000s, Roofman begins with the crimes that made Jeffrey Manchester (Tatum) briefly famous. A war veteran and father of three, recently separated from his wife and desperate for both money and affection, Jeffrey comes up with an unlikely plan: robbing McDonald’s restaurants. A friendly, good-natured guy with a keen eye for detail, he figures out he can sneak in through the roof at night, wait for the morning shift, hold up the employees, lock them in the freezer, and clean out the register. His goal is precise—hit 45 locations, earn enough to support his family, and quit. Naturally, things don’t go as planned. His eventual downfall comes not from greed or cruelty, but from an act of generosity—a trait that repeatedly sabotages his criminal schemes.
What could easily have been a limited series becomes, in Cianfrance’s hands, a string of offbeat misadventures. Sentenced to 45 years in prison, Jeffrey devises a clever escape and soon finds himself back on the run. True to form, he outwits the police and finds an improbable hideout: a massive Toys “R” Us store, which he secretly inhabits like a ghost tenant, living off M&M’s, sleeping in the strangest places, and even rigging baby monitors to spy on the store offices.

While waiting for an old friend (LaKeith Stanfield) to secure him a fake passport and a way out of the country, Jeffrey crosses paths with Leigh (Dunst), a recently divorced store clerk he first helps out of kindness and later falls in love with. Though he’s still wanted—albeit with less urgency—his growing affection for her draws him back into the world he’s supposed to avoid. Under a new identity, he begins to live out an impossible second act.
Tatum fits perfectly into the role of this conflicted man: intelligent, inventive, and yet oddly naïve. Perhaps Cianfrance leans a little too far into comedy—his Jeffrey Manchester may be the most charming criminal ever put on screen—but the tone works. The film plays like a Coen brothers caper stripped of cynicism. Manchester has the smarts and resourcefulness of a master thief, yet his undoing comes from beginner mistakes—sometimes out of clumsiness, sometimes out of kindness, and often out of love.
At the heart of Roofman lies his relationship with Leigh, a devout, recently divorced mother of two who’s mistreated by her boss (Peter Dinklage). Jeffrey’s initial fascination turns to affection, and then obsession, as he starts helping her and attending her church. Desperate to win over her daughters, he pretends to have another name and a ridiculous profession, revealing just how much he yearns to replace the love he’s lost—especially that of his own daughter. Even knowing how risky his exposure is, he can’t help but throw himself into this fragile new family.
Gradually, Cianfrance gives the film more emotional weight, setting aside its more overtly absurd touches and moving into more human, intimate territory. And while the running time could easily have been trimmed—Juno Temple, Ben Mendelsohn, and Uzo Aduba all appear in brief roles that were clearly cut down in the edit—the director still manages to make us empathize with his confused protagonist, torn between the instinct to hide and flee and the longing to reconnect with the world after years of confinement, and in his own way, to find redemption. That empathy comes entirely from its leads: Dunst, as impeccable as ever, and Tatum, perfectly cast as a good man who can think of no better way to win love than by stealing his way toward it.