Allow Keanu Reeves Smile More: An Exploration at the Actor's Role in Good Fortune
Good Fortune, the fantasy comedy from actor the director, has been facing challenges at the box office. Several reasons may explain its reception: Its generic title fails to convey the movie's distinctive appeal. Its screenplay is often preachy and heavy-handed with its themes. The performances seem flat and presentational, like the actors are reciting lines straight from a script. And, the film comes during an era of economic uncertainty and inequality, which could make audiences not very open to a story which implies wealthy individuals enjoy all the advantages while the poor possess spirit.
But, here's what the movie stands out: It's unique, bold, imaginative, often humorous, and undoubtedly timely. And, it offers a enjoyable Keanu Reeves hangout movie.
Reeves as an Guardian: His Typical Portrayal
I have never considered Keanu Reeves to be a good performer. The actor's flat speaking style and persistent look of slight concern have always seemed one-note, regardless of the wide variety of characters he's played during the past 40 of his career. Smart filmmakers have often cast Reeves in parts in which that rigidity works ideally, including his early work to The Matrix to the action series. Yet nearly every one of these characters required him to seem tough, closed-off, or detached.
In Good Fortune, Reeves plays Gabriel, a minor protecting celestial being tasked with watching over people who use their phones while driving. The character's whole job is remaining in their vehicles and lightly touching their shoulders when they are about to have an accident, warning the person in order that they brake in time. However, when standing high above his domain, gazing on the mortal world similar to an alternative version of a celestial figure in Wim Wenders' renowned movie Wings of Desire, the character gets aspirational. He desires to become a great protector and rescuer of wayward souls.
The Unexpected Turn: Keanu Playing a Human
Therefore, he reveals himself to down-and-out handyman Arj (portrayed by Aziz Ansari), who is living out of his car and resenting his situation. Gabriel proceeds to exchanges the man with the existence of extremely rich tech mogul a character (acted by the comedian). The point behind the exercise is for Arj to understand the wealthy man's life has major drawbacks, and gratefully return to his own circumstances, much like a character from the classic film.
Problem was, the character immediately realizes that Jeff's problems (boring meetings, expensive heating invoice) prove minor and easily solved using money. He further sees that being affluent provides limitless opportunities for self-indulgent enjoyment. He shows zero desire in going back to his previous situation, and the angel is unable to force him to return. Then, more bad news arrives: For exceeding his mandate and messing with the order of the world, the character is fired as an celestial job, and transformed into a mortal.
A Revelation: The Actor Smiles
Personally, I remained not convinced by Reeves as an angel with grand dreams and an intense wish to effect change. He delivers a familiar somewhat constipated performance he has consistently offering for at least the past 3 ten-year periods. Viewing Reeves as an celestial being that has recently turned mortal for the first time, however, was a blast, for a reason which truly astonished viewers at first: It's an element different for the actor. Or perhaps to be precise, an aspect from the past.
Soon during his confusing experience as a mortal, clinging to the wealthy character (whom Gabriel had swapped into the handyman's precarious existence and jobless status), Gabriel begins tentatively trying out everyday experiences such as chewing and swallowing food. Then the actor smiles. Authentically, cautiously, happily beams. (It's far much believable than the grin shown in the poster, that appears artificially added.)
The Reason This Grin Is Significant
The moment truly took me aback to recognize just how surprising and welcome the smile was. At what point did we last audiences observed the actor smile in a film in which he was not expressing malice, sarcasm, or bitterness? The actor likely attempts it at some point in the recent ill-conceived the sequel, but I'm not going to returning to that disappointment to find out. The actor has remained typecast with grim, murderous, introspective, or simply solemn roles for such a duration that merely watching him grin seemed like seeing a completely different actor.
As the story progresses, the character finds himself needing to get a dishwashing position, which fails to provide sufficient for survival, and Gabriel begins chain-smoking due to frustration. Just the image of Reeves in a disposable paper restaurant cap, his late-career trademark locks tied in a plain ponytail, leaning against a building and smoking a smoke, is worthy of the price of admission. His dishwasher attire completely alters his face and posture: Suddenly, the lean, suited action star of his famous movies is awkward, unglamorous, and a lot more human.
The Joy of Watching Reeves Loosen Up
The film is not consistently enjoyable to view, particularly when Ansari (who also authored the script) must find plausible reasons for {Ar