"Roofman" — Reviewed on Letterboxd

 Don’t let the insouciant title fool you. Roofman isn’t all that funny. Some clever wisecracks, sure, and I did laugh out loud when Jeffrey Manchester (Channing Tatum), the eponymous Roofman, told Leigh Wainscott (Kirsten Dunst) that his name was “John Zorn,” an apparent reference to the avant-garde musician. Aside from that, it’s a high anxiety thriller sometimes, a love story based on deception for most of the last half, and a biopic of a for-a-time successful criminal all the rest of its 126 minute running time.

As Manchester’s Army buddy, Steve (LaKeith Stanfield), says of him, “We both know that doing things the right way is not your superpower.” He or someone else says that Manchester is some kind of genius and really dumb at the same time. That is played out again and again, as Manchester gets away with something thanks to his superb observation and planning skill, only to put himself in jeopardy because what he wants more than anything is a family and the love of a good woman. The ride that director Derek Cianfrance takes the audience on spends a considerable chunk of the movie on Manchester’s winning over Leigh’s daughters, to show, apparently, that he’s a softie at heart.* It also explains the ending, which is well telegraphed yet comes as something of a surprise.

Roofman is well worth seeing for Channing Tatum’s charismatic performance, both clothed and — SPOILER ALERT! — nude. Actually, to correct what I said about there being nothing funny about it, the sequence when store manager Mitch (Peter Dinklage) discovers Manchester standing right in front of him is funny.

Rated R for language, nudity and brief sexuality. Apparently no animals were harmed, though the only animal I saw was a duck that Manchester feeds bread to in the prison yard. As for explosions, no cars were blown up. However, there is a spectacular fireball that’s caused by Manchester’s inexperience as an arsonist.

* A producer and a writer were in a meeting. The producer says, “I love the script, I think it’s great. I’d like you to make the kid more sympathetic.” The writer says, “Sure. what did you have in mind?” The producer says, “Give him a puppy. Give him a limp.” The writer says, “Give the puppy a limp?” The producer says, “How the hell should I know? You’re the writer, you figure it out.” Shorthand: “Give the puppy a limp” for make a character sympathetic, as Cianfrance and co-writer Kirt Gunn do for Manchester.