Let Keanu Reeves Grin More: An Exploration at His Performance in Good Fortune

Aziz Ansari's directorial debut, the fantasy comedy from comedian the director, has been struggling in theaters. Several factors may explain the film's reception: The uninspired title fails to convey its film's unique appeal. The script is often moralizing and heavy-handed with its themes. The acting are uninspired and presentational, like the cast are reciting lines straight from the page. And, the film comes during an era marked by economic uncertainty and disparity, which may make viewers not very open to a narrative that suggests wealthy individuals have all the advantages while the poor possess spirit.

But, here's what Good Fortune stands out: It's original, bold, creative, often funny, and undoubtedly relevant. And, it offers a great Keanu Reeves character-driven experience.

Reeves as an Guardian: A Familiar Performance

I have never regarded Reeves to be a strong actor. His flat speaking style and consistent look of slight perturbation have consistently seemed one-note, despite his broad range of characters he's played during the past four decades years. Astute directors have cast him in roles in which his stoic nature works ideally, including My Own Private Idaho to the sci-fi classic to the action series. Yet almost all of those roles called for Reeves to appear tough, closed-off, or detached.

Throughout the film, the actor plays an angel, a minor guardian celestial being tasked with watching over people that text while behind the wheel. His whole duty is sitting in his vehicles and lightly touching the drivers' shoulders as they're close to crash, alerting the person in order that the driver stop before impact. But, when standing high above the city, looking down on humanity like a version of the angel from Wim Wenders' renowned film the angel story, Gabriel gets aspirational. He desires to become an exceptional protector and a savior of wayward individuals.

The Unexpected Turn: Keanu as a Human

Therefore, Gabriel presents himself to struggling odd-jobber a character (played by the director), who is residing out of his car and resenting his life. The angel proceeds to swaps Arj into the life of extremely wealthy businessman Jeff (played by Seth Rogen). This point behind the experiment was that the character to realize Jeff's existence comes with significant drawbacks, and thankfully return to his own circumstances, similar to the figure from It's a Wonderful Life.

Issue is, Arj immediately discovers how the mogul's problems (boring meetings, a pricey heating bill) prove negligible and readily solved using wealth. He further sees how being affluent opens up limitless opportunities for self-indulgent fun. He has no desire in going back to his previous life, and the angel is unable to compel him to return. Subsequently, more bad news comes: Because of overstepping his duties and messing with the balance of existence, the character loses his position from his celestial job, and turned into a mortal.

A Discovery: The Actor Grins

Personally, I remained never persuaded by the actor playing an celestial being who has grand aspirations and an intense desire to effect change. Reeves delivers a familiar somewhat stiff performance he has consistently providing for at least the past 3 decades. Watching him in the role of angel that has recently turned mortal initially, on the other hand, was highly entertaining, for a reason that truly astonished me initially: It's something different for the actor. Or perhaps to be precise, an aspect old.

Soon during his confusing experience as a human, clinging to the wealthy character (who Gabriel had swapped with Arj's precarious life and jobless situation), Gabriel starts hesitantly trying out human activities such as chewing and swallowing meals. And the actor smiles. Authentically, cautiously, happily beams. (This is far more convincing than the grin shown in the promotional image, which looks digitally altered.)

Why That Smile Matters

It truly took me aback to realize how surprising and welcome the expression felt. At what point did we last audiences saw the actor smile in a movie where he was not expressing malice, sarcasm, or resentment? He likely attempts it somewhere in the recent misbegotten Bill & Ted Face the Music, but I'm not going to returning to the mess to confirm. The actor has remained typecast with grim, violent, introspective, or simply serious roles for so long that just seeing Reeves smile seemed like seeing a completely different actor.

As the story progresses, Gabriel finds himself having to get a dishwashing job, which doesn't pay enough for survival, and Gabriel starts chain-smoking out of frustration. Just the image of Reeves in a cheap plastic food-service cap, his late-career signature long hair tied in an unglamorous bun, slouching on a building and puffing on a smoke, is worthy of the price of admission. The dishwasher attire completely changes his appearance and body: Suddenly, the lean, well-dressed physical powerhouse of his famous movies becomes gawky, unglamorous, and a lot more human.

The Joy of Watching Keanu Loosen Up

Good Fortune isn't always fun to view, especially when the director (who additionally authored the script) must create believable reasons for {Ar

Megan Poole
Megan Poole

Elara is a poet and educator with a passion for modern verse and literary analysis, sharing her journey to inspire others.