Roofman (2025)

I went to see Roofman expecting a light, quirky comedy based on how it was marketed, and I just want to say that whoever cut that trailer definitely left out the emotional side of this movie. I thought I was signing up for a goofy true-crime caper with Channing Tatum crawling through fast-food restaurant ceilings and doing slapstick robberies. And yes, those moments are there and they’re funny, but the movie is actually way more of a drama than I expected. Not heavy in a depressing way, but in a “wow, this is more layered than I was prepared for on a random weeknight” kind of way.

The story follows Jeffrey Manchester, played by Tatum, and while the premise sounds almost ridiculous, the movie gives him a lot of depth. He’s not some thrill-seeking criminal. He’s a former Army Ranger, a dad, and someone who clearly wanted to be seen as a good man trying to provide for his family until he got stuck in this cycle of failure and embarrassment. You can almost feel how one bad decision snowballed into a situation he couldn’t unwind. I ended up feeling more sadness for him than I expected. Not sympathy for the crimes, but empathy for the very human spiral of “I don’t know how to fix this, so I’m going to choose the only option that makes me feel in control.”

And that was the part that lingered with me. The movie shows how people can talk themselves into terrible choices when they feel cornered or ashamed. It’s like watching someone build a house-of-cards-life because it feels safer than admitting their real one collapsed. You can tell he’s constantly juggling two identities: the person he wishes he could be and the person he’s pretending to be. That tension between wanting redemption and hiding the truth is the heart of the movie, and I think that’s what makes it land more as a drama than a comedy. The humor almost softens it enough so you can sit with the uncomfortable parts.

Channing Tatum surprised me in this. He plays Jeffrey with this mix of awkward charm, regret, and a need to be liked that makes you understand why people let him in, even when they shouldn’t. Kirsten Dunst adds a warmth and complexity that grounded the story for me. Their dynamic isn’t the fluffy rom-com vibe the marketing hinted at. It’s more fragile and bittersweet. You know from the start that this connection is built on a shaky foundation, so instead of rooting for them as a couple, I found myself rooting for him to finally be honest about his life.

Would I tell people to see it? Yes, but with the right expectations. If you go in thinking it’s a comedy, you might be thrown off. If you go in ready for an offbeat drama with some genuine humor sprinkled in, it hits really well. It made me laugh, it made me tense, and it definitely made me think about how quickly people can lose their footing when life keeps dealing them losing hands.

So if you’re in the mood for something that feels a little different, that blends absurd moments with real emotional insight, this one stays with you. I walked out thinking more about human behavior than the crime itself, which was not what I expected when I bought the ticket.