Let Keanu Reeves Smile More: A Look at the Actor's Role in Good Fortune
Good Fortune, this fantasy comedy by comedian Aziz Ansari, is facing challenges at the box office. Several factors may explain its performance: The generic name doesn't express the film's unique charm. Its script is often moralizing and heavy-handed with its messages. Its performances are uninspired and staged, as if the cast were reciting dialogue straight from a script. And, it arrives during an era marked by economic anxiety and inequality, which could render viewers not very receptive to a story which implies wealthy people enjoy all the benefits while those in need possess heart.
However, this is what the movie excels: It's original, bold, imaginative, often humorous, and certainly timely. Plus, it offers a enjoyable the actor hangout experience.
Keanu Reeves in the role of Guardian: A Familiar Performance
Personally, I've not regarded Reeves to be a good performer. His monotonal speaking style and consistent expression of mild perturbation has consistently seemed one-note, despite the wide range of roles he has played during the past 40 of his career. Astute filmmakers have placed Reeves in roles in which his rigidity works ideally, from his early work to the sci-fi classic to the action series. Yet nearly every one of those roles required him to appear tough, closed-off, and removed.
In the film, Reeves portrays an angel, a low-level guardian celestial being tasked with watching over people who text while driving. His whole job involves sitting in his cars and lightly touching their shoulders when they are close to crash, warning them so they brake before impact. But, while positioned high above his domain, looking down upon the mortal world similar to a version of the angel in the director's classic film Wings of Desire, the character gets ambitious. He desires to be a great guardian and a savior of lost souls.
The Unexpected Turn: Reeves as a Mortal
Therefore, he reveals himself to struggling odd-jobber a character (played by Aziz Ansari), who is living out of a vehicle and cursing his life. Gabriel proceeds to swaps Arj with the life of stupidly wealthy businessman Jeff (acted by the comedian). The point of the exercise was for Arj would realize the wealthy man's life has major drawbacks, and gratefully go back to his original life, much like the character in It's a Wonderful Life.
Problem was, Arj right away discovers how Jeff's issues (boring appointments, a pricey pool-heater invoice) are negligible and easily resolved with wealth. Arj further realizes how becoming rich provides limitless chances for self-indulgent enjoyment. He shows zero desire in going back to his own life, and the angel is unable to force him to go back. Subsequently, more bad news comes: For exceeding his mandate and disrupting the balance of existence, Gabriel loses his position from his celestial job, and transformed into a mortal.
The Discovery: The Actor Grins
I was never convinced by the actor playing an celestial being who has big aspirations and a burning wish to make a difference. Reeves turns in the same somewhat constipated acting he has been providing for no less than the last three ten-year periods. Watching him in the role of angel who's just become human initially, however, proved to be highly entertaining, due to something which really surprised me at first: This is something new for the actor. Or to be precise, an aspect from the past.
Soon during his baffling career being a human, clinging to Jeff (whom the angel exchanged with Arj's hand-to-mouth life and underemployed status), the character starts tentatively experimenting with human experiences like eating and consuming food. Then Reeves grins. Genuinely, hesitantly, joyously beams. (It's a lot more believable than his grin on the poster, that looks artificially added.)
The Reason That Smile Matters
The moment truly surprised me to recognize how surprising and welcome the smile was. When was the last time audiences observed the actor grin in a film where he was not expressing malice, sarcasm, or bitterness? He likely attempts it at some point in 2020's ill-conceived Bill & Ted Face the Music, however I am not going to revisiting that mess to confirm. Reeves has been stuck with grim, violent, introspective, or simply serious characters for so long that merely seeing him grin seemed like seeing an entirely different actor.
While the story progresses, Gabriel ends up needing to take a kitchen position, which doesn't pay sufficient to live on, and Gabriel begins smoking heavily out of disappointment. Simply the sight of the actor in a cheap paper restaurant hat, with his recent trademark locks tied in a plain bun, leaning on a wall and smoking a cigarette, is worth watching. His kitchen worker attire completely changes his appearance and body: Unexpectedly, the lean, suited physical powerhouse of his famous movies becomes gawky, ordinary, and a lot more human.
A Pleasure of Watching Keanu Loosen Up
The film isn't consistently fun to view, especially when the director (who additionally authored the script) has to create believable reasons for {Ar