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Good Fortune, this whimsical comedy from actor the director, is struggling at the box office. Several reasons could explain the film's reception: Its generic name fails to express the movie's distinctive charm. The script can be preachy and obvious with the themes. Its performances are uninspired and staged, as if the actors were reciting dialogue straight from the page. Moreover, the film comes during an era of financial anxiety and inequality, that may render viewers not very open to a narrative which suggests wealthy individuals have all the advantages while those in need possess heart.

However, this is what the movie stands out: The film is unique, bold, creative, often funny, and undoubtedly relevant. And, it provides an unexpectedly great the actor character-driven experience.

Reeves as an Guardian: His Typical Performance

I have not regarded Keanu Reeves to be a good performer. The actor's flat delivery and persistent expression of mild perturbation have consistently seemed limited, despite the broad variety of roles he has played over the past 40 years. Smart filmmakers have placed him in roles in which that rigidity fits perfectly, from his early work to the sci-fi classic to the action series. But nearly every one of those roles required him to appear hardened, closed-off, and removed.

Throughout Good Fortune, Reeves portrays an angel, one minor protecting angel tasked with watching over individuals who use their phones while driving. His entire duty involves remaining in his cars and gently touching the drivers' arms as they are about to crash, alerting the person so the driver brake in time. However, while positioned overlooking the city, gazing on the mortal world similar to a interpretation of the angel from Wim Wenders' classic movie the angel story, Gabriel gets ambitious. He wants to become an exceptional guardian and rescuer of wayward individuals.

A Unexpected Turn: Reeves Playing a Human

So, Gabriel reveals his presence to struggling handyman Arj (played by Aziz Ansari), who's residing in his car and cursing his life. Gabriel then swaps Arj with the life of stupidly rich businessman Jeff (played by Seth Rogen). This point behind the experiment was for the character would understand Jeff's life comes with major downsides, and thankfully go back to his original circumstances, much like a character from It's a Wonderful Life.

Problem is, Arj immediately realizes that Jeff's issues (boring appointments, expensive heating bill) prove negligible and readily solved with money. He also sees that being affluent provides limitless opportunities for pleasurable fun. He shows no interest in going back to his own situation, and the angel is unable to compel him to go back. Subsequently, additional bad news comes: For overstepping his duties and disrupting the order of existence, Gabriel is fired from his celestial job, and transformed to a human being.

A Discovery: Keanu Reeves Smiles

Personally, I remained not persuaded by Reeves as an angel with grand dreams and a burning desire to effect change. He delivers a familiar vaguely constipated acting he's been providing for at least the past three ten-year periods. Watching Reeves as an celestial being who's recently turned mortal for the first time, however, proved to be a blast, for a reason that truly surprised viewers initially: This is an element different for Reeves. Or perhaps to be precise, something old.

Soon during the character's confusing experience being a human, clinging to Jeff (whom Gabriel exchanged into Arj's precarious life and jobless situation), Gabriel begins tentatively experimenting with everyday experiences such as chewing and swallowing food. And the actor smiles. Authentically, hesitantly, happily smiles. (This is far more convincing than his grin shown in the promotional image, which appears artificially added.)

Why That Grin Is Significant

The moment really took me aback to realize how surprising and welcome that expression was. At what point was the last time we observed the actor smile in a film in which he wasn't showing malice, sarcasm, or resentment? He likely attempts it at some point in 2020's misbegotten Bill & Ted Face the Music, however I'm not going to revisiting that mess to find out. Reeves has remained typecast with serious, murderous, broody, or simply solemn characters for so long that just watching him grin felt like seeing a completely new actor.

While the story progresses, the character finds himself needing to get a kitchen job, a role that fails to provide sufficient to live on, and Gabriel starts chain-smoking out of frustration. Simply the sight of Reeves in a cheap paper food-service hat, with his recent trademark locks tied in an unglamorous bun, leaning against a building and puffing on a cigarette, is worthy of watching. His dishwasher attire completely changes his face and posture: Unexpectedly, the lean, suited physical powerhouse of the John Wick movies is gawky, unglamorous, and much increasingly relatable.

A Joy of Viewing Reeves Relax

Good Fortune isn't always enjoyable to view, especially when the director (that also authored the screenplay) has to create plausible explanations for {Ar