Daniel Roher’s transition to narrative filmmaking with Tuner marks a significant shift for a director who has built considerable credibility in documentary spaces. His previous work includes The Painter and the Thief (2020), a documentary that won the World Documentary Grand Jury Prize at Sundance and earned an Academy Award nomination. That film demonstrates Roher’s gift for finding extraordinary human stories within seemingly ordinary circumstances—a painter and a thief form an unlikely friendship following a theft. The parallel sensibility shows up immediately in Tuner: taking a mundane profession (piano tuning) and revealing unexpected depths and complications within it. What Roher brought to documentary—patient observation, emotional authenticity, genuine curiosity about how people think and act—translates directly into how he approaches his first narrative feature.
The shift from documentary to narrative represents a different kind of challenge entirely. Roher must now work with actors, scripted dialogue, and constructed dramatic arcs rather than observing real people in real situations. Tuner gives him room to explore what drew him to documentary in the first place: the collision between a person’s ordinary life and circumstances that upend everything. The 109-minute runtime suggests he’s not interested in sprawling complexity—instead, the film appears laser-focused on a single transformation and its consequences.
The cast assembled here represents a thoughtful collection of talent across different generations and acting traditions. Leo Woodall carries the lead as Niki, the piano tuner pulled into safecracking. Woodall spent years building credibility in television before landing more substantial film roles; his work in The Iron Claw (2023) and Io showed an actor comfortable with vulnerability and internal conflict. He’s the kind of performer who doesn’t overplay emotional moments, which suits a character discovering something unexpected about himself. Pairing him with Dustin Hoffman adds real weight to the production. Hoffman brings decades of screen presence and an actor’s understanding of character texture—the kind of performer who finds interesting choices in small moments.
Havana Rose Liu rounds out the core cast as Ruthie, the character whose romantic involvement with Niki gets complicated by his descent into safecracking. Liu’s recent work has shown range across dramatic and lighter material; she brings naturalness to relationships without ever feeling performative. The supporting cast adds further depth: Tony Award-winner Tovah Feldshuh, Jean Reno (who understands crime thrillers from his extensive European and American work), and Lior Raz (best known for Fauda, the Israeli thriller series). This isn’t a collection of names for marquee value—it’s a group of actors known for bringing intelligence and specificity to their roles.
What’s notable about Tuner is that it operates as an original concept rather than an adaptation. The film doesn’t draw from source material, previous franchises, or established IP. That decision matters. In an industry increasingly cautious about original narratives in theatrical spaces, Roher and his collaborators are building something from scratch. The premise—that piano tuning expertise could translate to safe cracking—is clever without being absurd, grounded enough to feel plausible while absurd enough to generate genuine dramatic tension. How does a character rationalize crossing that line? What are the consequences? These questions drive the narrative.
The production itself involves three companies working in concert:
- Black Bear Pictures – An established independent production company known for supporting diverse voices and original material
- Elevation Pictures – A Canadian distributor with strong international relationships and expertise in bringing films to wider audiences
- English Breakfast – Adding production expertise and resources to the project
The Canadian involvement (Elevation is Toronto-based) connects to Roher’s background and the film’s premiere at the Toronto International Film Festival in September 2025, followed by its world premiere at Telluride. That festival circuit speaks to the filmmakers’ confidence in the material—these are venues where character-driven thrillers find audiences and critical recognition.
The film blends multiple tones simultaneously, which is harder than it sounds. The synopsis explicitly mentions crime thriller, comedy, and drama—these genres don’t always coexist easily. A character discovering hidden talents could play as pure comedy, or as pure thriller, but combining both suggests Roher is interested in exploring both the humor and the danger of self-discovery. The best heist films (and this has heist elements) understand that the fun comes partly from watching someone do something well they shouldn’t be doing, but the stakes come from the personal cost.
What Roher has proven across his career—whether in documentary or now in narrative—is genuine interest in character and consequence. Tuner arrives with filmmakers, actors, and production partners who understand that a good story doesn’t require massive budgets or sprawling running times. It requires clarity of vision and performers who can find truth in the material. The film’s 109-minute length suggests confidence in the story’s ability to sustain attention without padding or excess. That restraint, combined with Roher’s sensibility for finding humanity in unexpected places, is what makes Tuner worth attention as a filmmaker’s first narrative feature—not because it’s expected to dominate, but because it represents a voice and perspective that has earned trust through previous work.
