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Good Fortune, the whimsical comedy from comedian the director, has been struggling in theaters. Several factors may account for the film's reception: The generic title fails to convey its movie's unique charm. The screenplay can be moralizing and heavy-handed with its messages. The acting are uninspired and presentational, as if the actors are reciting dialogue straight from a script. Moreover, it arrives at a time of financial uncertainty and inequality, which could render viewers less open to a story which suggests wealthy people have every advantages while those in need have spirit.

But, here's what Good Fortune stands out: It's original, daring, imaginative, frequently funny, and undoubtedly timely. Plus, it provides an unexpectedly great Keanu Reeves hangout experience.

Keanu Reeves in the role of Guardian: A Familiar Performance

Personally, I've not regarded Reeves a strong performer. The actor's flat speaking style and persistent expression of mild perturbation has consistently felt limited, regardless of his wide range of roles he has played during the past four decades years. Astute directors have placed Reeves in parts in which his rigidity fits perfectly, from My Own Private Idaho to the sci-fi classic to John Wick. But almost all of those roles called for Reeves to seem hardened, closed-off, and detached.

In the film, Reeves plays Gabriel, a low-level protecting celestial being assigned with looking after individuals who use their phones when driving. His entire job involves sitting in their cars and lightly making contact with their shoulders as they are close to crash, alerting the person in order that the driver stop in time. However, while positioned overlooking his domain, looking down upon humanity like an alternative version of a celestial figure from the director's renowned movie Wings of Desire, Gabriel gets ambitious. He desires to be an exceptional guardian and rescuer of lost individuals.

A Surprising Turn: Keanu Playing a Human

Therefore, Gabriel presents himself to struggling odd-jobber Arj (portrayed by Aziz Ansari), who's residing out of his car and cursing his life. Gabriel then exchanges the man into the existence of stupidly wealthy tech mogul a character (played by the comedian). The idea behind the experiment was for the character would realize the wealthy man's life comes with significant drawbacks, and gratefully go back to his original life, much like the character in It's a Wonderful Life.

Problem is, the character immediately realizes how Jeff's issues (tedious appointments, expensive heating invoice) prove negligible and easily solved with wealth. He also realizes that becoming affluent provides endless opportunities for self-indulgent fun. He shows no interest in going back to his own life, and Gabriel can't compel Arj to return. Subsequently, additional trouble arrives: For overstepping his duties and messing with the balance of the world, Gabriel loses his position from his angel job, and turned to a human being.

A Revelation: Keanu Reeves Grins

Personally, I remained never persuaded by Reeves playing an angel who has big dreams and an intense desire to effect change. Reeves turns in the same somewhat constipated acting he's been offering for at least the last 3 decades. Viewing Reeves as an celestial being that has recently become human initially, however, was a blast, for a reason which truly astonished viewers initially: This is an element different for Reeves. Or perhaps to be precise, something from the past.

Soon during his confusing career as a mortal, clinging to the wealthy character (who the angel had swapped into Arj's precarious existence and jobless situation), the character begins hesitantly experimenting with human experiences like chewing and swallowing meals. Then the actor grins. Authentically, hesitantly, joyously smiles. (This is a lot more convincing than his smile on the poster, which appears digitally altered.)

Why That Smile Matters

The moment really surprised me to realize just how surprising and refreshing that smile was. At what point did we last we saw the actor smile in a film in which he was not expressing ill will, irony, or bitterness? He likely tries it somewhere in the recent misbegotten Bill & Ted Face the Music, however I'm not returning to the mess to find out. The actor has been typecast with grim, murderous, introspective, or just solemn roles for such a duration that merely seeing him smile felt like seeing a completely different actor.

While the plot progresses, Gabriel finds himself needing to take a dishwashing job, which fails to provide enough to live on, and Gabriel starts chain-smoking due to disappointment. Just the sight of Reeves in a cheap paper restaurant cap, his late-career signature locks pulled back in a plain bun, slouching on a building and puffing on a cigarette, proves worthy of the price of admission. The dishwasher getup completely changes his appearance and posture: Suddenly, the lean, suited physical powerhouse of his famous films is gawky, unglamorous, and a lot increasingly relatable.

The Pleasure of Watching Reeves Relax

The film isn't consistently fun to watch, especially when Ansari (who additionally authored the screenplay) has to find believable reasons for {Ar