Nana Muazin
In the landscape of modern cinema, few transitions are as scrutinized as the move from non-fiction to narrative feature. For Daniel Roher, the Oscar-winning director behind the explosive documentary Navalny, the leap into fiction with the romantic thriller Tuner was not merely a professional pivot—it was a necessary act of creative survival. Now hitting theaters, Tuner represents a taut, atmospheric departure that blends the meticulous precision of a heist film with the intimate vulnerability of a character study.
The Genesis of a New Narrative
Tuner introduces audiences to Niki, a piano virtuoso played with compelling, melancholic depth by Leo Woodall (The White Lotus). Niki’s life is defined by a sensory paradox: he possesses an extraordinary, hyper-acute sense of hearing, yet suffers from a debilitating condition that makes everyday sound—the clamor of a city, the hum of traffic—physically painful. Forced to abandon his dreams of the concert stage, he spends his days in quiet servitude as a piano tuner alongside his mentor, Harry, portrayed by the legendary octogenarian Dustin Hoffman.
The film’s inciting incident arrives with a stroke of criminal ingenuity. While servicing pianos in the ultra-wealthy enclaves of New York City, Niki discovers that his acute pitch sensitivity can be repurposed to manipulate the tumblers of high-end safes. Drawn into a world of petty theft, he finds himself navigating a dangerous double life, all while falling for a young, ambitious pianist played by Havana Rose Liu.
A Chronology of Artistic Evolution
Roher’s journey to this moment has been anything but linear. After the whirlwind success of Navalny, which captured the harrowing reality of the poisoning and imprisonment of Russian opposition leader Alexei Navalny, the filmmaker found himself in a state of professional paralysis. At 29, winning an Academy Award brought both validation and an overwhelming sense of dread.
"It’s cool, it’s exciting, it’s amazing, it’s also fucking scary," Roher admitted in a recent interview. "How do you follow that up? People are coming up to me at fancy events saying, ‘Wow, you’re not going to top this, great work, kid,’ and I’m intimidated and anxious about the specter of this film looming over me."
To process the "lightning-in-a-bottle" success of Navalny, Roher initially retreated to familiar territory. He directed the AI-focused documentary The AI Doc: Or How I Became an Apocaloptimist and the National Geographic project Blink. Yet, the itch to return to fiction—a dream he had held since the age of 13—remained persistent. He wanted to avoid being defined by a single success. "I didn’t want it to be the first sentence in my eulogy," he noted.
The idea for Tuner was sparked by his wife, filmmaker Caroline Lindy, and a chance encounter with a professional piano tuner. Roher became fascinated by the "bridge between engineering and art" that the tuner represents. After shadowing a tuner for a day, the narrative hook clicked into place: if one can tune a piano to perfection, why not use that same auditory precision to crack a safe?
The Mechanics of Sound and Silence
A hallmark of Tuner is its sophisticated sound design, helmed by Academy Award winner Johnnie Burn (The Zone of Interest). Because the film is anchored in Niki’s subjective experience, the audio landscape is intentionally volatile.
"This is not loss of hearing; this is a sensitivity to loud noises," Roher explained. "We had to develop the subjective perspective of Leo in any environment. He has his earplugs, which are one level of protection, but then he goes outside, and he walks by a leaf blower—it’s alienating. Because he has to protect his ears, you can’t hear and be part of anything."
This sensory isolation informs the entire aesthetic of the film. The audience is invited to feel the same claustrophobia that traps Niki, turning his condition into a narrative device that highlights both his brilliance and his social exclusion.
Collaboration and Craft: The Cast and Crew
Securing the green light for Tuner required a shift from Los Angeles to New York, a decision mandated by the financial constraints of the $7 million budget. Once the location was set, Roher turned his attention to assembling an ensemble capable of balancing the film’s disparate tones—slapstick camaraderie between Niki and Harry, and the gritty, life-or-death tension of a heist.
Working with Dustin Hoffman, now 87, provided a masterclass in acting dynamics. While Woodall brought a scripted discipline to the role of Niki, Hoffman thrived on improvisation. "Dustin and Leo are a study in contrast," Roher observed. "I had to find the balance between them."
The casting of Leo Woodall was pivotal. Roher describes him as having "movie star quality," noting that the audience’s desire to see him succeed—despite his character’s criminal choices—is the glue that holds the film together. Alongside him, Havana Rose Liu was cast for her ability to embody the "ambitious, committed, and diligent" spirit of a professional musician. Notably, both actors underwent rigorous training, learning to perform their own piano pieces for the screen.
Implications: Grief, Memory, and Future Projects
The shadow of Navalny continues to loom over Roher’s personal and professional life. The death of Alexei Navalny in February 2025 remains a source of profound, unresolved grief for the director.
"I miss him. I’m writing a film about him—an alternate history where he’s not murdered in prison," Roher revealed. While he acknowledges that this specific project may never see the light of day, it serves as a therapeutic exercise, allowing him to process the loss of a man whose life irrevocably changed his own—leading to his marriage and his family.
As Tuner begins its theatrical run, Roher is already looking ahead. He has commenced production on Positano for Netflix, an ambitious heist film starring Matthew McConaughey and Zoe Saldaña. The project, which follows two rival jewel thieves forced into an uneasy alliance, suggests that Roher is firmly committed to the genre exploration he began with Tuner.
Final Thoughts: The Obsession with the Audience
For all the technical mastery and emotional weight, Roher insists his primary responsibility is to the viewer. In an era where many filmmakers prioritize their own artistic indulgence, Roher identifies as "obsessed with the audience."
"I hold in high regard the privilege of someone giving me an hour and 45 minutes of their life," he said. "I cut the fat. I want it to be taut. I don’t want it to overstay its welcome."
With Tuner, Roher has achieved a rare feat: a debut feature that feels both intensely personal and commercially gripping. By moving away from the heavy mantle of documentary activism into the stylized world of a romantic heist, Roher has not only successfully pivoted—he has signaled that his voice is as potent in fiction as it was in the halls of international human rights.
Tuner is currently in theaters via Black Bear.
Dwi Wanna
Lina Hope
