Let the actor Smile More: An Exploration at the Actor's Role in Good Fortune

Good Fortune, the fantasy film by comedian the director, is facing challenges in theaters. Several reasons may explain the film's performance: Its generic title fails to express the movie's distinctive charm. Its script can be moralizing and heavy-handed with the themes. Its acting seem uninspired and presentational, like the cast were reading lines directly from a script. And, the film comes during an era of economic uncertainty and inequality, which could make audiences not very receptive to a narrative that suggests rich individuals enjoy all the benefits while the poor have spirit.

However, here's where Good Fortune excels: The film is original, bold, creative, frequently humorous, and undoubtedly relevant. Plus, it offers a great Keanu Reeves hangout experience.

Reeves as an Guardian: His Typical Performance

I have never considered Reeves a good actor. The actor's monotonal delivery and consistent expression of mild perturbation have consistently felt limited, regardless of the broad range of roles he has taken on during the last four decades years. Astute directors have cast him in roles in which that rigidity works ideally, from his early work to The Matrix to the action series. Yet almost all of these characters called for Reeves to seem tough, closed-off, or removed.

In Good Fortune, Reeves plays Gabriel, a minor guardian angel tasked with looking after people who use their phones when driving. The character's whole duty involves remaining in his cars and lightly making contact with their shoulders as they're about to crash, alerting the person in order that the driver stop before impact. However, when standing overlooking the city, gazing on humanity similar to a version of the angel from Wim Wenders' classic film Wings of Desire, the character gets ambitious. He desires to be a great guardian and a savior of wayward souls.

A Unexpected Shift: Reeves Playing a Human

So, he reveals his presence to down-and-out odd-jobber a character (portrayed by Aziz Ansari), who's living in a vehicle and cursing his situation. Gabriel then exchanges the man into the existence of extremely rich tech mogul Jeff (acted by Seth Rogen). The idea of the experiment is for Arj to realize the wealthy man's life has significant downsides, and thankfully go back to his own circumstances, similar to the character in It's a Wonderful Life.

Problem was, the character immediately realizes how the mogul's problems (boring meetings, a pricey heating invoice) prove negligible and easily resolved using money. He further realizes how becoming rich opens up limitless opportunities for self-indulgent enjoyment. He has no interest in returning to his previous life, and Gabriel can't compel him to return. Subsequently, additional trouble comes: Because of overstepping his mandate and disrupting the order of the world, Gabriel loses his position as an angel role, and turned to a human being.

The Revelation: Keanu Reeves Smiles

I was never persuaded by Reeves as an angel who has big dreams and an intense desire to make a difference. He delivers a familiar somewhat constipated acting he's consistently offering for no less than the last three decades. Watching him as an celestial being who's just turned human for the first time, however, was a blast, for a reason which really surprised me initially: It's an element new for Reeves. Or perhaps more accurately, something from the past.

Soon during his confusing career being a human, staying with Jeff (who Gabriel exchanged with Arj's hand-to-mouth existence and underemployed situation), the character begins tentatively experimenting with human experiences like chewing and swallowing food. Then the actor smiles. Authentically, hesitantly, happily beams. (This is far much convincing than the grin on the promotional image, that looks artificially added.)

Why This Grin Matters

It truly took me aback to recognize how unexpected and refreshing the expression felt. At what point did we last we saw the actor smile in a movie where he wasn't showing ill will, sarcasm, or bitterness? He probably attempts it somewhere in the recent misbegotten the sequel, but I am not returning to that mess to confirm. Reeves has been stuck with serious, violent, broody, or just serious characters for so long that just watching him grin seemed like seeing a completely new actor.

As the plot goes on, the character ends up having to take a dishwashing position, which doesn't pay enough to live on, and Gabriel begins chain-smoking due to frustration. Just the sight of Reeves in a cheap paper restaurant cap, with his recent trademark long hair pulled back in an unglamorous ponytail, leaning on a wall and puffing on a cigarette, proves worthy of the price of admission. His kitchen worker getup totally changes his face and posture: Unexpectedly, the slim, well-dressed action star of the John Wick films becomes awkward, ordinary, and a lot more human.

The Joy of Watching Reeves Loosen Up

The film isn't always enjoyable to watch, particularly when Ansari (who additionally wrote the screenplay) has to create believable explanations for {Ar