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Good Fortune, this whimsical comedy by actor the director, is facing challenges in theaters. Several reasons could explain the film's performance: Its generic name doesn't express the movie's unique charm. Its script is often preachy and obvious regarding its messages. Its performances are uninspired and staged, as if the cast were reading lines directly from the page. Moreover, it arrives during an era of financial anxiety and inequality, which may render audiences less open to a narrative that implies rich individuals enjoy all the benefits while the poor possess heart.

However, this is what the movie excels: The film is unique, bold, creative, frequently humorous, and undoubtedly relevant. Plus, it offers a great Keanu Reeves character-driven movie.

Reeves as an Angel: A Familiar Portrayal

Personally, I've not considered Reeves to be a strong performer. His monotonal speaking style and persistent expression of slight perturbation has always seemed limited, regardless of his broad variety of roles he's taken on during the past four decades of his career. Smart directors have often cast him in parts in which that stoic nature fits perfectly, including My Own Private Idaho to the sci-fi classic to John Wick. Yet nearly every one of these characters called for him to seem tough, distant, or detached.

In the film, the actor portrays an angel, a low-level protecting celestial being assigned with looking after people who text when behind the wheel. His whole duty involves sitting in their cars and gently making contact with the drivers' shoulders as they are close to crash, warning the person so they brake in time. But, when standing high above the city, looking down on humanity like an alternative version of the angel from Wim Wenders' renowned film the angel story, Gabriel gets ambitious. He wants to be an exceptional guardian and a savior of wayward individuals.

A Surprising Shift: Keanu as a Human

Therefore, he reveals his presence to struggling handyman Arj (played by the director), who is living in his car and resenting his life. Gabriel then swaps the man into the existence of stupidly wealthy tech mogul Jeff (acted by Seth Rogen). The point behind the exercise was that the character to understand the wealthy man's life has significant drawbacks, and thankfully go back to his own life, similar to the figure in It's a Wonderful Life.

Issue was, Arj immediately discovers how Jeff's problems (tedious meetings, a pricey pool-heater invoice) prove minor and easily solved using wealth. Arj also realizes how becoming rich opens up limitless chances for self-indulgent fun. He shows zero desire in returning to his previous situation, and the angel can't force Arj to return. Then, more bad news arrives: Because of overstepping his duties and disrupting the order of the world, the character loses his position from his celestial job, and transformed into a human being.

A Revelation: The Actor Smiles

Personally, I remained never persuaded by Reeves as an celestial being with grand aspirations and an intense desire to make a difference. Reeves turns in a familiar somewhat stiff performance he has been providing for at least the last 3 decades. Viewing him as an angel who's just become human initially, on the other hand, proved to be highly entertaining, due to something that really astonished me at first: This is an element different for Reeves. Or more accurately, something old.

Soon into his baffling career as a human, clinging to Jeff (whom Gabriel had swapped with Arj's hand-to-mouth existence and jobless situation), the character starts tentatively trying out human experiences like chewing and swallowing food. Then the actor grins. Genuinely, cautiously, happily smiles. (It's far more believable than the smile shown in the poster, that looks digitally altered.)

Why That Smile Matters

The moment truly took me aback to recognize how unexpected and welcome that smile was. At what point was the last time we observed Keanu Reeves grin in a movie in which he was not showing ill will, irony, or resentment? The actor likely attempts it somewhere in the recent misbegotten Bill & Ted Face the Music, however I am not returning to that disappointment to find out. Reeves has remained stuck with grim, violent, introspective, or simply solemn characters for so long that just seeing him smile seemed like observing an entirely different performer.

As the plot goes on, the character ends up having to get a dishwashing position, which fails to provide sufficient to live on, and he begins smoking heavily out of disappointment. Just the sight of Reeves in a cheap plastic food-service hat, his late-career trademark locks pulled back in an unglamorous bun, slouching against a building and puffing on a smoke, proves worthy of watching. His kitchen worker getup completely changes his appearance and body: Suddenly, the lean, suited action star of his famous films becomes gawky, unglamorous, and a lot increasingly human.

The Pleasure of Watching Keanu Loosen Up

The film isn't consistently enjoyable to watch, especially when Ansari (that also wrote the script) must create plausible reasons for {Ar