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Good Fortune, this fantasy film from comedian Aziz Ansari, has been struggling in theaters. Several reasons could explain its reception: Its generic title fails to express the film's distinctive appeal. The script is often moralizing and heavy-handed with its themes. The performances seem flat and staged, as if the cast were reciting lines directly from a script. And, it arrives during an era marked by economic uncertainty and disparity, that could make audiences less receptive to a narrative which suggests rich people enjoy all the advantages while the poor possess spirit.

But, here's what Good Fortune stands out: It's original, bold, creative, frequently humorous, and certainly relevant. And, it provides an unexpectedly enjoyable the actor character-driven movie.

Keanu Reeves in the role of Angel: A Familiar Portrayal

I have not considered Reeves a good performer. His flat speaking style and persistent look of slight perturbation has always seemed one-note, regardless of the wide range of roles he has played over the last 40 years. Smart directors have often cast him in parts where that stoic nature fits ideally, from his early work to the sci-fi classic to John Wick. Yet nearly all of these roles required Reeves to seem hardened, distant, and detached.

In the film, the actor plays Gabriel, a low-level guardian angel assigned with looking after individuals that text when driving. His entire job is remaining in their cars and lightly making contact with their arms as they're close to have an accident, alerting them in order that the driver stop in time. But, while standing high above his domain, gazing on humanity like an alternative version of a celestial figure in Wim Wenders' classic movie the angel story, the character gets ambitious. He wants to become a great protector and a savior of wayward souls.

The Surprising Shift: Keanu as a Mortal

Therefore, Gabriel presents himself to struggling odd-jobber Arj (played by the director), who's residing in a vehicle and cursing his situation. The angel proceeds to exchanges the man with the existence of stupidly wealthy businessman Jeff (played by the comedian). This point behind the exercise is for the character would realize Jeff's life comes with significant downsides, and thankfully return to his own circumstances, much like a character in It's a Wonderful Life.

Issue is, the character right away realizes that the mogul's issues (tedious meetings, expensive pool-heater bill) prove negligible and readily solved using wealth. He further realizes how becoming rich opens up endless opportunities for self-indulgent enjoyment. The character has zero desire in returning to his previous life, and the angel is unable to force him to go back. Then, more trouble comes: Because of exceeding his duties and disrupting the order of the world, Gabriel is fired as an celestial job, and transformed into a human being.

The Revelation: Keanu Reeves Grins

I was not persuaded by Reeves playing an angel who has grand aspirations and a burning wish to effect change. Reeves delivers the same somewhat stiff performance he's been offering for no less than the past 3 decades. Viewing him in the role of celestial being that has recently turned human initially, on the other hand, was a blast, for a reason that truly surprised viewers at first: This is something different for the actor. Or perhaps to be precise, an aspect from the past.

Soon into his confusing experience being a human, staying with Jeff (who the angel had swapped into Arj's precarious life and jobless situation), the character starts tentatively trying out everyday experiences such as chewing and swallowing food. Then the actor grins. Genuinely, cautiously, happily beams. (This is a lot much believable than the smile on the promotional image, that looks digitally altered.)

The Reason This Grin Is Significant

The moment really took me aback to realize how unexpected and refreshing the smile felt. At what point was the last time audiences observed the actor grin in a film in which he wasn't expressing malice, irony, or bitterness? The actor likely tries it at some point in 2020's misbegotten the sequel, but I'm not going to returning to that disappointment to confirm. Reeves has been typecast with serious, murderous, broody, or just serious characters for so long that merely watching him smile felt like observing a completely new actor.

While the story goes on, the character finds himself needing to get a kitchen job, a role that fails to provide sufficient to live on, and he starts smoking heavily due to disappointment. Simply the sight of the actor in a cheap paper restaurant hat, with his recent signature long hair pulled back in an unglamorous ponytail, slouching against a wall and smoking a cigarette, proves worthy of watching. His dishwasher getup totally alters his face and posture: Suddenly, the lean, well-dressed action star of the John Wick movies becomes awkward, unglamorous, and much more relatable.

A Joy of Watching Keanu Loosen Up

The film is not consistently enjoyable to view, especially when the director (that additionally wrote the script) has to create plausible reasons for {Ar