🔗 Share this article Let Keanu Reeves Smile More: A Look at the Actor's Role in Good Fortune Aziz Ansari's directorial debut, this whimsical comedy from comedian the director, is struggling in theaters. Many reasons could account for the film's reception: Its generic title doesn't express the movie's unique charm. Its screenplay is often moralizing and obvious regarding the messages. Its acting are uninspired and presentational, like the cast are reciting lines directly from the page. And, the film comes during an era of financial anxiety and disparity, which may make audiences not very open to a story that implies wealthy people have all the benefits while those in need possess spirit. But, here's where Good Fortune excels: The film is original, bold, creative, frequently humorous, and undoubtedly timely. And, it provides an unexpectedly enjoyable the actor character-driven experience. Reeves in the role of Angel: His Typical Portrayal Personally, I've never considered Keanu Reeves a strong actor. The actor's flat delivery and consistent expression of slight perturbation has always felt one-note, regardless of the broad variety of roles he has played during the last four decades years. Astute filmmakers have often placed Reeves in roles where his rigidity fits ideally, including My Own Private Idaho to the sci-fi classic to the action series. Yet almost every one of these characters required him to seem hardened, closed-off, and detached. Throughout Good Fortune, the actor portrays Gabriel, a low-level guardian celestial being tasked with watching over individuals that text when driving. The character's entire job involves remaining in his cars and gently making contact with their arms when they're close to have an accident, alerting them so they stop before impact. But, while standing overlooking his domain, looking down on the mortal world like a interpretation of a celestial figure from the director's classic film Wings of Desire, Gabriel gets ambitious. He desires to become an exceptional guardian and rescuer of wayward individuals. A Unexpected Shift: Reeves Playing a Mortal Therefore, he reveals his presence to struggling handyman Arj (portrayed by Aziz Ansari), who is residing out of a vehicle and cursing his life. Gabriel proceeds to swaps Arj into the life of extremely rich businessman a character (played by the comedian). This idea behind the exercise was for Arj to understand Jeff's life comes with major drawbacks, and thankfully return to his original life, much like the figure from the classic film. Issue is, Arj immediately realizes that Jeff's issues (boring meetings, a pricey heating invoice) prove minor and readily resolved with money. He also realizes how becoming affluent opens up limitless opportunities for pleasurable fun. He shows zero desire in going back to his previous situation, and Gabriel is unable to force Arj to go back. Subsequently, additional bad news comes: For exceeding his duties and messing with the order of existence, the character is fired as an celestial role, and transformed into a human being. A Revelation: The Actor Smiles Personally, I remained not convinced by Reeves as an celestial being with grand dreams and a burning desire to effect change. He delivers the same vaguely constipated performance he's consistently offering for no less than the last 3 decades. Watching him in the role of angel who's just become human for the first time, however, was highly entertaining, due to something which truly astonished me at first: This is an element different for the actor. Or to be precise, an aspect old. Soon into the character's baffling experience as a mortal, staying with the wealthy character (who Gabriel had swapped with Arj's hand-to-mouth existence and jobless situation), the character begins hesitantly experimenting with human experiences such as eating and swallowing food. And Reeves grins. Genuinely, cautiously, happily beams. (This is a lot more convincing than his smile shown in the poster, that looks digitally altered.) The Reason This Smile Is Significant The moment really took me aback to realize how surprising and welcome that expression felt. At what point did we last audiences saw the actor grin in a film in which he was not showing ill will, irony, or bitterness? He probably tries it at some point in the recent misbegotten the sequel, however I'm not going to returning to that disappointment to find out. The actor has remained stuck with grim, murderous, introspective, or just solemn roles for so long that merely watching him smile seemed like observing a completely new performer. As the story progresses, the character ends up having to get a dishwashing position, which fails to provide enough for survival, and Gabriel begins smoking heavily due to frustration. Just the sight of the actor in a cheap paper food-service hat, with his late-career signature locks tied in an unglamorous bun, leaning on a wall and puffing on a cigarette, is worth the price of admission. His kitchen worker attire completely changes his appearance and body: Suddenly, the lean, suited physical powerhouse of the John Wick movies is awkward, ordinary, and a lot more relatable. The Joy of Viewing Reeves Loosen Up Good Fortune is not consistently enjoyable to view, especially when the director (that also wrote the screenplay) must create believable explanations for {Ar