Let Keanu Reeves Smile More Often: An Exploration at His Performance in Good Fortune
Aziz Ansari's directorial debut, the fantasy film by actor Aziz Ansari, is struggling in theaters. Several reasons may account for its performance: Its generic title fails to express the film's distinctive charm. Its screenplay is often moralizing and obvious with the themes. The performances are flat and staged, as if the cast are reading lines directly from a script. Moreover, it arrives during an era marked by financial anxiety and disparity, which may make viewers less open to a narrative which implies rich people have all the advantages while the poor have heart.
But, this is where the movie stands out: It's unique, bold, creative, frequently funny, and undoubtedly relevant. And, it offers a enjoyable the actor hangout experience.
Reeves in the role of Angel: A Familiar Portrayal
Personally, I've never regarded Reeves to be a strong performer. The actor's monotonal delivery and persistent expression of slight concern have always felt limited, regardless of the broad range of characters he's taken on during the past 40 years. Smart directors have cast him in parts where that rigidity fits ideally, from My Own Private Idaho to The Matrix to the action series. But nearly all of these roles called for Reeves to appear tough, distant, or detached.
In Good Fortune, Reeves portrays an angel, a minor guardian angel tasked with looking after individuals who use their phones while behind the wheel. The character's entire job is sitting in their vehicles and lightly making contact with the drivers' arms as they are about to have an accident, warning them in order that the driver brake in time. However, when standing overlooking the city, looking down on the mortal world similar to an alternative version of the angel in the director's classic movie the angel story, the character gets ambitious. Gabriel wants to become an exceptional guardian and rescuer of wayward souls.
The Surprising Turn: Keanu Playing a Mortal
So, Gabriel reveals himself to struggling odd-jobber a character (played by the director), who's living in his car and cursing his situation. The angel then exchanges the man with the existence of stupidly wealthy tech mogul Jeff (played by Seth Rogen). The idea behind the experiment is that the character to realize the wealthy man's existence has significant drawbacks, and gratefully return to his original life, similar to a figure from the classic film.
Issue is, Arj immediately discovers that Jeff's problems (boring meetings, expensive heating invoice) are negligible and readily resolved using money. Arj further sees that being affluent opens up limitless chances for pleasurable enjoyment. The character shows zero interest in returning to his previous situation, and the angel is unable to force Arj to return. Subsequently, additional trouble comes: For exceeding his duties and messing with the order of the world, Gabriel is fired as an angel role, and turned into a human being.
A Discovery: The Actor Smiles
Personally, I remained not persuaded by Reeves playing an angel who has grand dreams and a burning wish to make a difference. Reeves turns in the same vaguely constipated performance he has been offering for no less than the last 3 ten-year periods. Viewing him as an angel who's recently turned human initially, on the other hand, proved to be a blast, for a reason that truly surprised viewers initially: This is something new for the actor. Or to be precise, an aspect from the past.
Early into his confusing career as a human, staying with the wealthy character (who the angel exchanged with the handyman's hand-to-mouth life and jobless situation), the character starts hesitantly trying out human experiences such as chewing and swallowing meals. And the actor grins. Authentically, hesitantly, joyously smiles. (This is far much convincing than his smile shown in the poster, which looks artificially added.)
The Reason That Smile Matters
The moment truly surprised me to realize how surprising and refreshing the expression felt. At what point was the last time audiences saw the actor smile in a movie in which he was not showing ill will, irony, or bitterness? He probably attempts it somewhere in 2020's ill-conceived the sequel, but I'm not going to revisiting that mess to find out. Reeves has remained typecast with serious, violent, broody, or just solemn characters for so long that just watching him smile felt like seeing an entirely new performer.
While the plot progresses, Gabriel finds himself needing to get a kitchen job, which doesn't pay sufficient to live on, and Gabriel begins chain-smoking out of disappointment. Simply the image of Reeves in a disposable plastic restaurant cap, his recent signature locks pulled back in a plain ponytail, leaning against a building and puffing on a smoke, proves worthy of watching. The kitchen worker attire completely changes his appearance and posture: Unexpectedly, the lean, suited action star of his famous films is awkward, ordinary, and a lot increasingly relatable.
The Pleasure of Watching Reeves Relax
Good Fortune is not consistently enjoyable to watch, especially when the director (that also wrote the script) has to create plausible explanations for {Ar