🔗 Share this article

Good Fortune, the fantasy comedy by actor the director, has been facing challenges in theaters. Many reasons may account for the film's performance: Its uninspired title doesn't express the film's distinctive appeal. Its screenplay can be moralizing and obvious regarding the messages. Its performances seem uninspired and presentational, as if the actors are reciting lines straight from the page. Moreover, it arrives during an era marked by financial anxiety and disparity, that could make viewers not very open to a story which suggests rich people enjoy every advantages while those in need have spirit.

But, here's what Good Fortune stands out: It's original, daring, imaginative, frequently humorous, and certainly timely. Plus, it provides a great Keanu Reeves hangout movie.

Reeves in the role of Angel: A Familiar Performance

I have not regarded Reeves a good performer. His monotonal delivery and consistent look of mild perturbation have consistently felt limited, regardless of his broad range of roles he has taken on over the past four decades of his career. Smart filmmakers have often placed him in parts where that stoic nature works perfectly, from My Own Private Idaho to the sci-fi classic to John Wick. But almost all of those roles required him to appear hardened, closed-off, and detached.

In the film, Reeves portrays Gabriel, a low-level guardian angel assigned with watching over individuals who text when driving. His entire duty is remaining in their cars and lightly touching the drivers' shoulders as they're close to crash, warning them in order that the driver stop before impact. But, when standing overlooking his domain, looking down upon humanity like a version of a celestial figure from the director's classic movie Wings of Desire, Gabriel becomes aspirational. Gabriel wants to be an exceptional guardian and a savior of wayward individuals.

A Unexpected Shift: Reeves as a Mortal

So, Gabriel presents his presence to down-and-out handyman a character (portrayed by the director), who's living in his car and cursing his life. Gabriel then exchanges the man with the existence of stupidly rich tech mogul a character (played by Seth Rogen). This idea of the exercise is for the character to understand the wealthy man's existence comes with major downsides, and thankfully go back to his own life, similar to the character from the classic film.

Issue is, Arj right away realizes how Jeff's problems (boring appointments, expensive pool-heater bill) prove minor and easily solved using money. Arj also sees how being affluent opens up endless opportunities for pleasurable fun. He shows zero desire in returning to his own situation, and the angel can't force Arj to go back. Then, additional bad news arrives: Because of exceeding his mandate and disrupting the balance of existence, the character loses his position as an celestial job, and transformed into a human being.

The Discovery: Keanu Reeves Smiles

Personally, I remained never persuaded by Reeves as an angel who has grand dreams and a burning wish to effect change. He delivers a familiar vaguely constipated performance he's consistently providing for no less than the last 3 ten-year periods. Watching him in the role of angel who's recently turned human for the first time, however, proved to be highly entertaining, due to something that really astonished viewers at first: This is an element new for Reeves. Or perhaps to be precise, an aspect from the past.

Soon into the character's confusing career being a human, clinging to Jeff (who Gabriel had swapped with the handyman's precarious existence and jobless situation), the character begins hesitantly trying out human experiences such as eating and swallowing meals. Then Reeves grins. Genuinely, cautiously, joyously smiles. (It's far more convincing than the grin shown in the promotional image, that appears digitally altered.)

Why That Grin Is Significant

The moment really took me aback to realize just how surprising and refreshing the expression felt. When did we last audiences observed Keanu Reeves grin in a movie in which he was not showing malice, irony, or bitterness? He likely tries it somewhere in the recent misbegotten Bill & Ted Face the Music, but I'm not revisiting the mess to confirm. Reeves has remained typecast with grim, violent, broody, or simply serious roles for such a duration that merely watching Reeves smile felt like observing a completely new actor.

As the plot progresses, the character finds himself having to get a kitchen position, a role that fails to provide enough for survival, and he begins smoking heavily due to disappointment. Just the image of Reeves in a disposable paper restaurant hat, his late-career trademark long hair tied in an unglamorous ponytail, slouching against a building and puffing on a cigarette, proves worth the price of admission. The dishwasher attire totally changes his appearance and body: Unexpectedly, the slim, well-dressed action star of the John Wick films becomes gawky, ordinary, and much more human.

A Joy of Watching Reeves Loosen Up

Good Fortune isn't always fun to view, particularly when Ansari (that also authored the script) must create plausible reasons for {Ar