Allow the actor Smile More Often: A Look at the Actor's Role in the New Film

Good Fortune, this fantasy comedy from actor Aziz Ansari, has been struggling in theaters. Several factors may explain its performance: Its generic title doesn't express the film's distinctive charm. The screenplay can be preachy and obvious regarding the themes. The performances are uninspired and staged, like the cast are reading lines directly from a script. Moreover, it arrives at a time of financial uncertainty and disparity, that may render viewers less open to a story that implies wealthy people have every benefits while those in need possess heart.

But, this is what Good Fortune excels: The film is original, daring, creative, frequently funny, and undoubtedly timely. And, it offers a great Keanu Reeves hangout experience.

Reeves in the role of Guardian: A Familiar Portrayal

I have never considered Reeves a strong performer. The actor's flat speaking style and consistent expression of mild perturbation have always felt one-note, despite the wide variety of roles he has played over the last four decades years. Smart directors have often cast Reeves in parts where his rigidity fits perfectly, including My Own Private Idaho to The Matrix to John Wick. But almost every one of these characters required Reeves to seem hardened, distant, and removed.

In Good Fortune, Reeves plays Gabriel, one low-level protecting angel assigned with watching over individuals that use their phones while behind the wheel. The character's entire duty is sitting in his cars and gently touching their shoulders as they are about to have an accident, alerting them in order that they stop in time. But, while standing high above his domain, looking down upon humanity similar to a interpretation of the angel from the director's classic movie the angel story, Gabriel becomes aspirational. He wants to be an exceptional protector and rescuer of lost souls.

The Unexpected Turn: Keanu as a Mortal

So, Gabriel reveals his presence to down-and-out handyman Arj (played by Aziz Ansari), who is living out of his car and cursing his situation. Gabriel then swaps the man with the life of extremely rich businessman Jeff (played by Seth Rogen). The point of the experiment was that the character would realize Jeff's existence has significant drawbacks, and gratefully return to his own life, similar to the character from the classic film.

Issue is, Arj right away realizes how the mogul's issues (tedious appointments, expensive pool-heater invoice) are negligible and easily solved with money. Arj also sees that being rich provides limitless chances for pleasurable fun. The character has zero desire in going back to his own life, and the angel is unable to compel him to return. Subsequently, additional trouble comes: Because of overstepping his duties and disrupting the order of existence, Gabriel loses his position from his celestial job, and transformed to a human being.

A Revelation: Keanu Reeves Grins

I was never persuaded by Reeves as an celestial being who has grand dreams and an intense desire to effect change. Reeves turns in a familiar somewhat constipated performance he has consistently offering for no less than the last three decades. Viewing Reeves as an celestial being that has just become human for the first time, however, was highly entertaining, due to something which truly surprised me initially: This is something new for the actor. Or more accurately, something from the past.

Soon during his baffling experience as a human, staying with Jeff (who Gabriel exchanged into the handyman's hand-to-mouth existence and jobless situation), the character begins hesitantly trying out human activities such as eating and consuming meals. Then the actor grins. Genuinely, cautiously, happily smiles. (This is a lot much believable than the grin on the poster, which appears digitally altered.)

Why This Grin Matters

It truly took me aback to realize how surprising and welcome that smile was. When was the last time audiences saw the actor smile in a movie where he was not showing malice, irony, or bitterness? The actor likely attempts a smile at some point in 2020's misbegotten Bill & Ted Face the Music, but I'm not going to revisiting the disappointment to find out. Reeves has remained typecast with grim, violent, introspective, or simply solemn characters for such a duration that merely seeing him grin seemed like seeing a completely new performer.

While the plot progresses, the character finds himself needing to take a dishwashing position, which doesn't pay enough to live on, and he begins chain-smoking out of frustration. Just the sight of Reeves in a cheap paper food-service cap, his late-career signature locks tied in an unglamorous ponytail, slouching on a wall and smoking a cigarette, is worth the price of admission. The kitchen worker attire totally alters his appearance and body: Suddenly, the lean, suited action star of the John Wick films becomes awkward, unglamorous, and much more human.

The Pleasure of Viewing Keanu Loosen Up

Good Fortune isn't consistently enjoyable to watch, especially when Ansari (who additionally wrote the screenplay) has to create believable reasons for {Ar