Allow Keanu Reeves Grin More Often: An Exploration at the Actor's Role in Good Fortune

Aziz Ansari's directorial debut, this whimsical comedy from actor the director, has been struggling in theaters. Several reasons could explain its reception: The generic name fails to express its film's unique appeal. The script can be preachy and obvious with the messages. The performances are uninspired and staged, as if the actors were reciting dialogue directly from a script. And, it arrives during an era marked by financial anxiety and inequality, that may make viewers not very open to a narrative that suggests wealthy individuals have all the advantages while the poor possess spirit.

But, this is where the movie excels: It's unique, bold, creative, frequently funny, and certainly relevant. Plus, it offers a enjoyable the actor hangout movie.

Reeves as an Guardian: His Typical Portrayal

Personally, I've not regarded Reeves to be a strong actor. The actor's monotonal speaking style and persistent expression of mild concern have always seemed limited, regardless of the wide range of roles he's played during the last four decades of his career. Smart filmmakers have cast Reeves in roles in which his stoic nature works perfectly, including his early work to the sci-fi classic to John Wick. Yet almost every one of those characters required Reeves to appear hardened, distant, and removed.

In Good Fortune, the actor portrays Gabriel, a minor guardian celestial being tasked with watching over individuals who text when behind the wheel. His whole duty is remaining in their cars and gently making contact with their arms when they are about to crash, warning them so the driver stop before impact. However, when positioned overlooking the city, looking down on humanity similar to an alternative version of the angel from the director's classic film Wings of Desire, Gabriel gets aspirational. Gabriel desires to be an exceptional protector and a savior of wayward individuals.

A Unexpected Turn: Keanu as a Human

So, he reveals himself to down-and-out handyman Arj (played by the director), who is living out of a vehicle and cursing his life. The angel then exchanges Arj into the life of stupidly rich tech mogul Jeff (acted by Seth Rogen). The point behind the exercise was that Arj would realize Jeff's existence comes with major downsides, and thankfully return to his own life, similar to a figure in It's a Wonderful Life.

Issue is, Arj right away realizes how the mogul's problems (boring appointments, expensive heating invoice) are minor and easily solved using wealth. Arj further realizes how being rich opens up endless chances for self-indulgent fun. He shows no desire in going back to his previous situation, and Gabriel can't compel him to return. Subsequently, additional bad news comes: For exceeding his mandate and messing with the order of existence, Gabriel is fired from his angel job, and transformed into a human being.

A Revelation: The Actor Smiles

I was never persuaded by the actor playing an celestial being who has big dreams and an intense wish to make a difference. Reeves delivers the same somewhat constipated performance he has been providing for no less than the last three decades. Viewing Reeves in the role of angel who's recently become mortal initially, on the other hand, was a blast, due to something that really astonished viewers at first: It's something new for Reeves. Or perhaps more accurately, an aspect old.

Soon during the character's baffling career as a mortal, staying with the wealthy character (whom Gabriel had swapped with the handyman's hand-to-mouth life and underemployed status), the character starts hesitantly trying out human experiences like eating and consuming food. Then the actor smiles. Genuinely, cautiously, happily beams. (This is a lot much convincing than the smile shown in the poster, that looks digitally altered.)

Why That Smile Matters

The moment truly took me aback to recognize just how surprising and refreshing that expression felt. At what point did we last we observed the actor smile in a film where he wasn't showing malice, irony, or resentment? The actor probably attempts a smile somewhere in 2020's ill-conceived the sequel, but I am not going to returning to that mess to confirm. Reeves has been typecast with grim, murderous, introspective, or just serious roles for such a duration that just watching Reeves smile felt like seeing a completely different actor.

As the story goes on, Gabriel ends up having to get a kitchen job, a role that doesn't pay enough to live on, and Gabriel begins smoking heavily due to disappointment. Just the sight of the actor in a disposable paper food-service cap, his late-career trademark long hair pulled back in a plain bun, slouching against a building and puffing on a cigarette, is worth the price of admission. The dishwasher attire totally alters his appearance and posture: Unexpectedly, the lean, suited physical powerhouse of the John Wick movies becomes awkward, unglamorous, and a lot increasingly human.

The Joy of Watching Reeves Relax

The film is not always enjoyable to view, particularly when Ansari (who additionally authored the script) has to create plausible explanations for {Ar