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Aziz Ansari's directorial debut, this whimsical film from actor Aziz Ansari, is struggling in theaters. Several reasons could account for its reception: The uninspired title doesn't convey the film's unique appeal. The script can be preachy and heavy-handed regarding its messages. The performances seem uninspired and staged, as if the actors were reading dialogue directly from a script. Moreover, it arrives during an era of financial uncertainty and inequality, which could render viewers not very receptive to a narrative which suggests rich individuals have every advantages while the poor have heart.

However, this is what Good Fortune excels: The film is original, bold, creative, often funny, and undoubtedly timely. And, it offers an unexpectedly great Keanu Reeves character-driven experience.

Keanu Reeves in the role of Guardian: A Familiar Performance

I have never considered Reeves a strong performer. His flat speaking style and consistent expression of mild perturbation have consistently felt one-note, despite the broad range of roles he has played during the past four decades years. Astute directors have often cast Reeves in roles in which that stoic nature works ideally, including My Own Private Idaho to the sci-fi classic to John Wick. Yet almost every one of those characters called for Reeves to appear hardened, closed-off, or detached.

Throughout the film, Reeves portrays an angel, one low-level guardian celestial being tasked with watching over individuals who use their phones while driving. His whole job is remaining in their cars and gently making contact with their shoulders when they're close to have an accident, warning them in order that they stop in time. However, while positioned high above his domain, gazing upon the mortal world similar to an alternative interpretation of the angel from Wim Wenders' renowned movie Wings of Desire, the character gets aspirational. He wants to be a great guardian and a savior of lost souls.

A Surprising Shift: Reeves as a Human

So, Gabriel presents himself to down-and-out odd-jobber a character (portrayed by the director), who's living in a vehicle and cursing his situation. Gabriel then exchanges the man into the life of extremely wealthy businessman Jeff (played by the comedian). The idea behind the experiment is that the character would understand Jeff's life has significant downsides, and gratefully go back to his original life, much like a figure from the classic film.

Issue was, Arj immediately realizes that the mogul's problems (boring appointments, expensive heating invoice) are negligible and easily resolved using money. He further realizes how being rich provides endless opportunities for pleasurable fun. He has no desire in returning to his previous life, and Gabriel can't compel Arj to return. Subsequently, more bad news arrives: For overstepping his mandate and disrupting the balance of the world, Gabriel loses his position as an angel role, and turned into a human being.

The Discovery: The Actor Smiles

I was not persuaded by the actor playing an angel with grand aspirations and a burning wish to effect change. Reeves delivers a familiar vaguely stiff performance he's been providing for no less than the past 3 ten-year periods. Watching Reeves in the role of celestial being who's recently turned human initially, however, proved to be a blast, due to something which really astonished me at first: This is something new for Reeves. Or perhaps more accurately, an aspect from the past.

Soon into his confusing experience being a human, staying with the wealthy character (who the angel exchanged with Arj's hand-to-mouth existence and jobless situation), Gabriel begins tentatively experimenting with everyday experiences like chewing and swallowing meals. Then Reeves grins. Genuinely, hesitantly, joyously beams. (It's a lot much convincing than the grin shown in the promotional image, which appears artificially added.)

The Reason That Grin Is Significant

The moment truly surprised me to realize just how unexpected and refreshing the expression was. When was the last time we saw the actor grin in a movie where he wasn't showing malice, irony, or bitterness? The actor likely attempts it somewhere in the recent ill-conceived Bill & Ted Face the Music, however I'm not revisiting that disappointment to find out. The actor has been typecast with grim, violent, broody, or just serious characters for so long that merely watching Reeves grin felt like observing an entirely different performer.

As the plot progresses, the character finds himself having to take a kitchen position, which fails to provide sufficient to live on, and he begins chain-smoking due to frustration. Just the sight of the actor in a cheap plastic restaurant hat, his recent trademark long hair tied in an unglamorous bun, slouching on a wall and puffing on a smoke, proves worth watching. His kitchen worker attire completely alters his face and posture: Suddenly, the slim, suited action star of the John Wick films is awkward, ordinary, and a lot more human.

The Joy of Viewing Reeves Loosen Up

Good Fortune is not always enjoyable to view, particularly when Ansari (who additionally wrote the screenplay) must create believable explanations for {Ar