Tuner

Tuner is a small film, but one that will leave a big impact. It truly is one of the most delightful surprises of the fall and deserves to be seen on a big screen with the loudest sound possible. Here's hoping it gets that chance.

What Daniel Roher has done with well-worn forms is to use them as setups, but put them together with a twist in a way that seems fresh and exciting.

A laid-back rom-com crossed with a low-key crime thriller, combined with something more serious — unafraid to ask existential questions about overcoming a handicap that directly impacts one’s art — Tuner feels like the discovery of the Telluride Film Festival.

It’s a playful movie in form and content, one that rarely takes itself too seriously, and as such, it can’t help but skate by as a pleasurable ride, whether through allowing Hoffman, Woodall and Liu space to trade quips, or through snappy editing when entering a new location.

Ultimately, Tuner is a film about sound, silence, and rediscovering who you are. It’s about the terror of losing what defines you, and the strange, unexpected ways life can offer a new shot for those who feel they already missed it.

It’s one of those well-intentioned efforts that feels inherently too safe. There’s nothing wrong with that, but Roher teases that he knows he could reach higher.