By Jason Osiason

Tuner opens with such promise. Niki White, played by Leo Woodall, tunes pianos with obsessive focus. His ear is sharp enough to catch even the smallest imperfection, but it’s a talent that will soon become his recockining. When his mentor Harry, played by Dustin Hoffman falls ill, he takes a sketchy side job that leads him into a criminal operation.

The initial setup is fun, but it often feels like a play by play echo of Baby Driver. A piano tuner turned safecracker, rhythm treated as a weapon. You can feel the influence of both Baby Driver and Whiplash lurking beneath the surface, but the film never reaches the energy of either. It stays clever and entertaining enough, yet remains too neat to truly move you.

Leo Woodall struggles to register as a compelling leading presence, playing the role a little too contained for a film that needs more heat. Dustin Hoffman gives the story its emotional grounding as a fading mentor, full of regret and tenderness, but for such an animated character he ultimately blurs into the background. Havana Rose Liu, as Niki’s girlfriend Ruthie, is the clear standout, even if the role feels predictable on paper. She brings a looseness and vulnerability that no one else in the cast quite matches, and this is the performance where she finally clicked for me as a major talent after watching her on screen over the past few years.

The criminals Niki falls in with are probably the weakest part. The goons reminded me of the ones in Anora—except in a bad way. There, the absurdity felt purposeful, like part of the world’s texture. Here it just feels sloppy. They talk tough but never carry real danger, draining momentum every time they show up.

Tuner works best when it leans into sound and silence, the way a single note or clank can build tension. You sense what the movie wants to be: a sharp little genre riff about control, tempo, and obsession. But it plays too safe, never pushing to the madness it keeps teasing. [C]