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Good Fortune, this whimsical comedy by actor the director, has been facing challenges in theaters. Many factors could explain the film's performance: The generic name doesn't express the film's distinctive appeal. The script can be preachy and heavy-handed regarding its themes. The acting are flat and presentational, as if the cast are reading lines directly from a script. And, the film comes at a time marked by financial anxiety and inequality, which may render audiences less receptive to a narrative which suggests rich people have every benefits while the poor possess heart.

However, this is what the movie excels: It's unique, daring, creative, frequently humorous, and certainly relevant. Plus, it offers an unexpectedly great Keanu Reeves character-driven experience.

Reeves in the role of Guardian: A Familiar Performance

I have never regarded Reeves to be a strong performer. The actor's monotonal speaking style and consistent look of slight perturbation have consistently felt one-note, despite the wide range of roles he has taken on during the past 40 of his career. Astute filmmakers have cast him in roles in which his rigidity fits perfectly, from My Own Private Idaho to the sci-fi classic to John Wick. But almost every one of those roles called for Reeves to appear hardened, distant, or removed.

In Good Fortune, Reeves plays Gabriel, one minor guardian celestial being tasked with watching over people that text while behind the wheel. The character's whole job is remaining in his cars and lightly making contact with the drivers' shoulders when they are close to crash, alerting the person in order that the driver stop in time. But, while standing high above his domain, gazing upon humanity like an alternative version of a celestial figure in the director's renowned film the angel story, Gabriel gets aspirational. Gabriel wants to become a great protector and a savior of wayward souls.

A Unexpected Shift: Reeves Playing a Human

Therefore, Gabriel reveals his presence to struggling handyman Arj (played by Aziz Ansari), who is residing out of a vehicle and cursing his situation. The angel proceeds to swaps Arj into the life of stupidly wealthy businessman Jeff (played by the comedian). This point of the exercise is that the character to realize Jeff's existence comes with significant drawbacks, and thankfully go back to his own circumstances, similar to the character in It's a Wonderful Life.

Problem is, the character right away realizes that the mogul's issues (boring meetings, expensive heating invoice) prove negligible and readily solved with money. Arj also sees how becoming rich provides endless opportunities for self-indulgent enjoyment. He shows zero desire in going back to his own situation, and Gabriel is unable to force him to go back. Subsequently, more bad news arrives: For overstepping his mandate and messing with the order of the world, the character loses his position as an celestial job, and turned to a mortal.

The Discovery: The Actor Grins

Personally, I remained not persuaded by Reeves as an angel with big aspirations and an intense wish to make a difference. He delivers a familiar somewhat constipated performance he's consistently offering for at least the last three decades. Viewing him as an angel that has recently become human initially, however, proved to be highly entertaining, for a reason which truly surprised me at first: This is an element different for Reeves. Or more accurately, something old.

Early during the character's baffling career being a mortal, staying with the wealthy character (whom Gabriel had swapped with the handyman's precarious life and jobless situation), Gabriel starts tentatively experimenting with human activities such as eating and consuming meals. Then Reeves smiles. Authentically, hesitantly, joyously smiles. (It's a lot more believable than his smile on the promotional image, that looks digitally altered.)

Why That Smile Is Significant

The moment really surprised me to realize just how unexpected and welcome that smile felt. At what point did we last we saw the actor grin in a movie where he was not expressing malice, sarcasm, or bitterness? The actor probably tries it somewhere in the recent misbegotten the sequel, however I am not going to revisiting that disappointment to confirm. The actor has been typecast with serious, murderous, broody, or simply solemn roles for so long that merely watching Reeves smile felt like seeing a completely different actor.

As the story progresses, Gabriel finds himself having to take a dishwashing position, a role that doesn't pay sufficient to live on, and he starts chain-smoking out of disappointment. Simply the sight of Reeves in a cheap plastic food-service hat, his late-career signature long hair pulled back in a plain ponytail, leaning on a building and puffing on a smoke, is worthy of the price of admission. The kitchen worker getup totally changes his face and body: Unexpectedly, the slim, well-dressed physical powerhouse of the John Wick movies becomes awkward, ordinary, and a lot more human.

A Joy of Viewing Reeves Relax

The film isn't always fun to watch, especially when the director (who also authored the screenplay) must find plausible reasons for {Ar