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Good Fortune, the fantasy comedy by actor the director, is facing challenges at the box office. Many reasons may explain the film's reception: Its uninspired name fails to express its movie's unique appeal. Its script is often preachy and heavy-handed regarding the themes. Its acting seem flat and staged, as if the actors were reading dialogue directly from a script. Moreover, the film comes at a time of economic uncertainty and disparity, that may make viewers not very receptive to a narrative which implies wealthy people have every advantages while the poor have heart.

But, this is where the movie stands out: The film is original, daring, creative, often humorous, and certainly timely. Plus, it offers a great the actor character-driven experience.

Reeves as an Angel: A Familiar Performance

I have never considered Keanu Reeves a good performer. The actor's flat speaking style and consistent look of mild concern has consistently seemed one-note, regardless of his broad range of characters he's taken on over the last 40 of his career. Smart directors have placed Reeves in roles where his rigidity works ideally, including his early work to the sci-fi classic to John Wick. Yet nearly all of these characters called for Reeves to appear tough, closed-off, or detached.

In Good Fortune, the actor plays an angel, a low-level protecting angel assigned with looking after people who text while behind the wheel. The character's whole job involves sitting in his vehicles and gently making contact with their shoulders when they're close to crash, warning them so the driver brake before impact. But, while positioned high above his domain, gazing on the mortal world similar to a interpretation of a celestial figure in the director's classic film Wings of Desire, the character becomes aspirational. He desires to be an exceptional protector and a savior of wayward souls.

A Surprising Shift: Reeves as a Mortal

Therefore, he reveals his presence to down-and-out handyman Arj (played by Aziz Ansari), who is residing in his car and resenting his situation. Gabriel then exchanges Arj into the existence of stupidly wealthy tech mogul Jeff (acted by Seth Rogen). This idea of the experiment is for Arj would understand the wealthy man's existence comes with major downsides, and thankfully go back to his own life, similar to a figure from It's a Wonderful Life.

Issue is, the character right away realizes how the mogul's issues (boring meetings, a pricey pool-heater invoice) are negligible and readily resolved using wealth. Arj further sees how being affluent provides limitless opportunities for self-indulgent fun. He shows zero desire in returning to his own life, and Gabriel is unable to compel Arj to go back. Subsequently, additional bad news arrives: Because of exceeding his duties and messing with the balance of existence, Gabriel is fired as an angel job, and turned to a mortal.

A Revelation: The Actor Smiles

Personally, I remained not persuaded by the actor as an celestial being who has grand aspirations and a burning wish to make a difference. He turns in the same vaguely stiff acting he's consistently providing for at least the last three decades. Watching Reeves as an angel who's recently turned mortal for the first time, however, was highly entertaining, for a reason which truly astonished me initially: This is an element different for Reeves. Or more accurately, something from the past.

Soon into the character's confusing experience being a human, clinging to Jeff (whom Gabriel exchanged into Arj's precarious life and underemployed situation), Gabriel starts tentatively experimenting with everyday experiences such as chewing and swallowing food. Then Reeves grins. Authentically, cautiously, joyously smiles. (This is far much believable than the grin shown in the poster, that appears digitally altered.)

The Reason This Grin Matters

The moment really took me aback to recognize just how surprising and welcome the smile was. At what point was the last time we saw the actor smile in a movie where he was not showing malice, sarcasm, or resentment? The actor probably tries it somewhere in the recent ill-conceived Bill & Ted Face the Music, however I'm not going to returning to the mess to confirm. Reeves has been typecast with grim, violent, introspective, or simply solemn roles for so long that just watching him grin seemed like seeing a completely new actor.

While the story progresses, the character finds himself needing to get a kitchen job, which doesn't pay sufficient to live on, and he starts chain-smoking due to frustration. Just the image of Reeves in a cheap paper restaurant cap, with his recent trademark long hair tied in a plain ponytail, leaning against a wall and smoking a cigarette, is worth the price of admission. His dishwasher attire completely alters his appearance and posture: Unexpectedly, the lean, suited physical powerhouse of the John Wick films becomes awkward, ordinary, and much increasingly relatable.

A Joy of Watching Reeves Loosen Up

The film is not always enjoyable to watch, especially when Ansari (that additionally authored the screenplay) has to create believable reasons for {Ar