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Good Fortune, the fantasy comedy by comedian the director, is facing challenges at the box office. Many factors could explain its performance: The uninspired title fails to convey its film's distinctive appeal. Its script is often moralizing and heavy-handed with the messages. Its acting seem flat and staged, as if the actors are reciting dialogue directly from the page. Moreover, the film comes during an era marked by economic uncertainty and disparity, which may render viewers less receptive to a story which implies rich people have every advantages while those in need have spirit.

But, this is where Good Fortune excels: The film is unique, daring, creative, often funny, and certainly relevant. Plus, it offers an unexpectedly enjoyable the actor hangout experience.

Keanu Reeves in the role of Angel: A Familiar Portrayal

Personally, I've not considered Keanu Reeves a strong actor. His monotonal delivery and persistent expression of mild concern has always felt one-note, despite his wide variety of roles he's taken on over the last 40 of his career. Astute filmmakers have placed Reeves in roles where that stoic nature fits perfectly, including My Own Private Idaho to The Matrix to John Wick. But almost every one of these characters called for him to appear tough, distant, or detached.

Throughout the film, Reeves plays an angel, one low-level guardian angel assigned with watching over people who use their phones while behind the wheel. The character's whole duty is sitting in his vehicles and lightly making contact with their arms when they are about to have an accident, alerting them in order that they brake before impact. However, while standing overlooking his domain, gazing on the mortal world similar to an alternative version of the angel from Wim Wenders' renowned film the angel story, the character gets aspirational. Gabriel desires to become an exceptional protector and a savior of lost souls.

A Unexpected Turn: Keanu Playing a Human

So, he presents himself to struggling odd-jobber a character (portrayed by the director), who is residing in his car and cursing his situation. Gabriel then exchanges the man into the life of stupidly wealthy tech mogul Jeff (acted by Seth Rogen). The idea behind the exercise is for the character would realize the wealthy man's life has significant downsides, and thankfully return to his original life, much like the figure in the classic film.

Problem was, Arj immediately discovers that Jeff's issues (boring meetings, expensive pool-heater bill) are minor and readily solved using money. Arj also realizes that being rich opens up endless opportunities for self-indulgent fun. The character shows no interest in returning to his previous situation, and Gabriel can't compel him to return. Then, more bad news arrives: Because of exceeding his duties and messing with the balance of existence, Gabriel loses his position from his celestial role, and turned into a mortal.

The Discovery: Keanu Reeves Smiles

I was never convinced by the actor playing an angel with big aspirations and a burning wish to effect change. Reeves delivers a familiar somewhat stiff acting he's been providing for at least the last three decades. Watching Reeves as an angel who's recently turned mortal initially, however, was a blast, due to something which really surprised me at first: This is an element different for the actor. Or perhaps more accurately, an aspect from the past.

Early during his baffling career as a mortal, staying with Jeff (whom Gabriel exchanged into the handyman's hand-to-mouth life and underemployed status), Gabriel starts tentatively experimenting with human activities like eating and swallowing meals. And Reeves smiles. Authentically, hesitantly, happily beams. (This is far much believable than his grin on the promotional image, that appears artificially added.)

Why This Grin Is Significant

The moment truly surprised me to realize just how surprising and refreshing that smile was. When was the last time we observed the actor grin in a film where he wasn't expressing malice, irony, or resentment? He likely tries a smile at some point in 2020's misbegotten the sequel, however I'm not going to returning to that mess to confirm. The actor has remained typecast with serious, violent, broody, or simply solemn roles for such a duration that just watching Reeves grin seemed like seeing a completely new actor.

While the story progresses, the character ends up having to get a kitchen position, which fails to provide enough to live on, and he begins chain-smoking due to disappointment. Just the sight of Reeves in a cheap plastic food-service cap, with his recent trademark long hair tied in a plain ponytail, leaning on a wall and puffing on a cigarette, is worth watching. The dishwasher getup completely changes his appearance and posture: Suddenly, the lean, suited physical powerhouse of the John Wick films becomes gawky, unglamorous, and a lot more relatable.

A Joy of Watching Reeves Relax

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