Crime doesn’t pay, but it can certainly help settle a few bills. Many stories of career criminals have been built on the premise that wrongdoing is never something to be condoned. However, it can still provide audiences with riveting tales of people who dedicate their lives to existing on the other side of the law, which panders to our inherent fascination with the subject, even if the vast majority of us would never dare cross that moral or legal threshold. One of the most fascinating stories is that of Jeffrey Manchester, an army veteran who spent his years after returning from military service committing a range of petty crimes, making use of both his incredible resourcefulness and impeccable observation skills to become “The Roofman”, who committed dozens of robberies around North Carolina between the late 1990s and the early 2000s, his name coming from his method of breaking through the roofs of various businesses – ranging from fast food restaurants to pawn shops – and taking whatever he could, usually making use of his congenial nature to charm whichever unlucky worker found themselves on duty that day. However, he is eventually caught, but it doesn’t take too long for Jeffrey to adopt the same approach, treating the prison system as nothing more than another establishment with clear shortcomings that he could exploit. After a well-timed escape, he discovers that he needs to conceal himself for several months before his contact can help him flee the country, leading him to take up residence in a local Toys-R-Us store, leading months of deception both in and outside of an establishment that acts as both his sanctuary and the source of his ultimate downfall, after he falls in love with one of its employees. His story has been immortalised in Roofman, in which Derek Cianfrance – returning to filmmaking after nearly a decade – works with co-writer Kirt Gunn to adapt Manchester’s story to the screen, which proves to be an unexpectedly charming romp that doesn’t minimise his crimes, nor does it attempt to portray him as a misunderstood rebel.  Instead, it is focused on demonstrating that even a story of a cold-hearted criminal can be wickedly entertaining when done correctly, leading to a film that is somehow blisteringly funny, extraordinarily thrilling and even surprisingly moving in various ways.

One of the great curiosities of how we consume media is an almost universal fascination with crime stories, which is not a recent phenomenon but rather one that has existed for centuries, with everything from the sordid Penny Dreadfuls of Victorian England to wildly popular podcasts. We simply find something truly fascinating about true crime, which many believe panders to our inherent curiosity to understand what motivates someone to potentially sacrifice their freedom and overall well-being, whether out of desire or desperation. The answer to this question isn’t always particularly clear, but it is something that has become quite widespread, leading to entire genres being built from the demand to see vivid deconstructions of the criminal mind. Something truly surprising about Roofman is that it took two decades to actually come to fruition, since you would imagine Manchester’s story would be immediately scooped up and used as the foundation for a wildly entertaining retelling. The reason it is so intriguing is because of how different it feels to so many other stories of criminal activity – a veteran who committed dozens of acts of armed robbery, while portraying himself as something of a gentleman bandit (his victims have gone on record as stating that, even when having a rifle pointed at them or being held captive, “The Roofman” was nothing if not endlessly polite), which emerged not from any psychological impulse, but purely the fact that he was unable to find employment that could help him support his family, especially when his ex-wife was always looking for any reason to wrangle their children out of his custody. Criminal behaviour fueled by desperation is still immoral, which is something that Cianfrance emphasises, showing very little sympathy for Manchester, while still proving that one can be fascinated by a story while still not condoning the actions. We encounter Manchester as he is at the height of his crime spree, with the purpose of the film not to be a celebration of his actions, but rather a cautionary tale around the importance of leading a moral life, since the further one allows themselves to descend into criminality, the more difficult it is to escape. These begin to describe the core of this film, which is a very effective examination of the complexities of the criminal mind.

When it comes to devoting your life to crime, is impossible to outrun the past, which is the core thesis statement that the director uses when developing Roofman, which takes us into the mind of one of the most unexpectedly charismatic criminals of the past few decades, and attempts to look behind the headlines and focus on the motives and methods that were usually neglected in the more sensationalist coverage from the time. Cianfrance had his work cut out for him in choosing a lead, since he needed someone who could capture both the effortless charm that Manchester embodied to the point where it actually became part of his reputation as a criminal, as well as the ferocious intelligence that is undercut by a very traditional “boy next door” attitude, a contradiction that was vital to understanding his story. Channing Tatum ultimately proved to be an exceptional choice because, while he is not always known for his ability to deliver dramatic work, he has still done enough of it to show that he is capable, especially with strong material. His work in Roofman is excellent – he’s the embodiment of charm, capturing every aspect of Manchester’s unique personality, walking a very narrow tightrope between morally questionable and exceptionally likeable, which is not something we find often with stories about career criminals. It takes a lot of work to be as charismatic as Tatum in a role built around a deceptively compelling protagonist and still keeping the audience at arm’s length, never quite allowing us to embrace the character, since this would essentially mean condoning his actions. We root for Manchester as a protagonist, rather than a real-life figure, and every mistake he makes is entirely earned, including in the final moments when he makes an incredibly bad decision that ultimately leads to his downfall. Tatum is paired with Kirsten Dunst, who is also doing extraordinary work as Leigh, the single mother who is swept off her feet by Sutherland (acting as “John Zorn”), unaware that this debonair new resident of their city is actually a hardened criminal wanted by the police. Tatum and Dunst have extraordinary chemistry that anchors the film (and scene-stealing supporting work by the likes of Peter Dinklage, Uzo Aduba, and Ben Mendelsohn only sweetens the experience), and allows Roofman to be an even more invigorating experience.

To determine how effective a film like this is, we have to look at its intentions in conjunction with the execution. Roofman is a relatively conventional play-by-play crime film, following Manchester’s crime spree both before and after his escape from prison, with the latter being the majority of the film (particularly since it was the most intriguing aspect of his story, and the one that lent itself to some very compelling commentary based on the absurdity of the premise) – and something we notice about this particular retelling is how faithful it is, with the director needing to make use of very few artistic liberties, since Manchester’s story is cinematic enough as it is to stand all on its own. There are a few elements that are changed to maximise dramatic effect, but the majority of the film is close to reality, which allows Cianfrance to redirect his efforts to other areas of the film. Tonally, Roofman is quite effective – considering his previous works have all been sombre, bleak existential dramas that built themselves around gritty depictions of the human condition, it’s surprising that the director went in the other direction, crafting a slick and polished mainstream comedy. This doesn’t only play into the absolute absurdity of the premise, but makes some of the themes more easy to digest, since beneath the surface, this film touches on some very harsh themes – poverty, domestic strife, the challenges of being a single parent in an unforgiving economy and the injustices of the social system are all subjects that the film explores, using Manchester’s story as a vessel to communicate its disdain for the experiences of those who are barely able to survive. To be able to do this while never seeming like it is condoning criminal activity (despite being a very funny film) is an extraordinary skill, and makes us appreciate Roofman as much more than a one-dimensional crime comedy, but instead look at it as a vigorous, engaging social commentary that uses humour as a tool to explore subjects far more profound than we would initially expect to find with such a film.

Some stories are truly stranger than fiction, and require someone who is able to convincingly explore these events without leaning too heavily into the absurdity of the premise. Cianfrance is wholeheartedly committed to examining Manchester’s crime spree in a way that is both accurate and cinematic, a combination that is not always a given – a film is either going to inflate the events to be more entertaining, or focus on every intricate detail to the point where all excitement is eventually lost in the search for authenticity. It certainly does help that Roofman is telling a story that is truly extraordinary, enough to hold our attention without needing to rely too heavily on poetic license, one of the many reasons we can truly appreciate this film as more than just a mindless crime comedy. Cianfrance is a fantastic director, and even after being absent from filmmaking for so long (although his limited series I Know This Much Is True that he made in the interim is brilliant too, and worth seeking out), he still exemplifies himself as one of the most ardent, dedicated social critics, capturing the various nuances of the human condition in a way that feels thrilling, engaging and never anything less than wholeheartedly invigorating. Anchored by an unforgettable set of performances from its two leads and the supporting cast, and made with a razor-sharp precision that ensures every one of its two hours are actively engaging and enthralling, Roofman proves to be one of the year’s most unexpectedly delightful surprises, an earnest depiction of an unconventional protagonist as he undergoes quite a bold journey, while never adding too much unnecessary commentary in the process. Hilarious, captivating and never anything short of engaging, Roofman is an absolute triumph and worth every moment of our time, especially since it dares to be different while still focusing on delivering something reliable and entertaining, proving that intelligent cinema can be truly enjoyable and vice versa.