Good Fortune, the whimsical comedy by actor the director, is struggling in theaters. Several reasons may account for the film's reception: Its generic title fails to convey its movie's unique charm. Its screenplay is often preachy and obvious with its themes. Its acting seem flat and presentational, as if the cast are reading lines straight from the page. Moreover, it arrives at a time marked by financial uncertainty and inequality, which could make audiences not very open to a narrative which implies wealthy individuals have all the advantages while those in need possess spirit.
However, here's where the movie stands out: The film is unique, daring, creative, often humorous, and certainly relevant. Plus, it offers an unexpectedly enjoyable the actor character-driven experience.
Personally, I've not considered Keanu Reeves to be a strong performer. His monotonal delivery and consistent expression of slight concern have consistently seemed limited, despite his broad range of characters he's taken on over the last 40 years. Astute directors have placed Reeves in parts where that rigidity works ideally, including his early work to The Matrix to John Wick. But nearly every one of those characters required Reeves to appear tough, closed-off, and removed.
Throughout Good Fortune, the actor plays an angel, one minor guardian celestial being assigned with looking after people that text while behind the wheel. His entire job involves remaining in his cars and lightly making contact with their shoulders as they are about to crash, warning them in order that they stop in time. But, while positioned high above his domain, looking down upon humanity like an alternative version of a celestial figure from Wim Wenders' classic movie Wings of Desire, the character gets ambitious. Gabriel desires to become a great protector and a savior of wayward individuals.
Therefore, Gabriel reveals his presence to down-and-out odd-jobber a character (portrayed by Aziz Ansari), who's living in his car and cursing his situation. The angel proceeds to exchanges Arj with the existence of extremely wealthy tech mogul Jeff (acted by the comedian). The point of the exercise was for Arj would realize the wealthy man's life has major downsides, and thankfully go back to his original life, much like a character from the classic film.
Problem was, Arj right away discovers that the mogul's problems (boring meetings, expensive pool-heater invoice) prove minor and easily resolved using wealth. Arj further realizes that becoming rich provides endless chances for pleasurable enjoyment. He has no desire in returning to his own life, and Gabriel is unable to force Arj to return. Then, more bad news comes: For exceeding his duties and disrupting the order of the world, Gabriel loses his position from his celestial job, and turned to a mortal.
I was not persuaded by Reeves playing an celestial being who has grand dreams and a burning wish to effect change. He delivers the same somewhat stiff acting he has been offering for no less than the last three ten-year periods. Watching him as an angel that has just become mortal initially, however, was highly entertaining, due to something which really astonished me at first: It's something different for Reeves. Or more accurately, an aspect from the past.
Early during his confusing career being a human, clinging to Jeff (who Gabriel exchanged into the handyman's precarious existence and jobless situation), Gabriel begins hesitantly trying out everyday activities such as chewing and swallowing meals. Then Reeves smiles. Genuinely, cautiously, happily smiles. (It's far more believable than the grin on the poster, which looks artificially added.)
The moment really surprised me to realize just how surprising and welcome that smile felt. When did we last we saw Keanu Reeves smile in a film in which he wasn't showing ill will, irony, or resentment? The actor likely tries it somewhere in the recent misbegotten the sequel, however I'm not returning to that disappointment to confirm. Reeves has been stuck with grim, murderous, introspective, or simply serious characters for such a duration that merely seeing him smile felt like seeing an entirely different performer.
While the story progresses, Gabriel ends up having to take a kitchen position, a role that fails to provide sufficient to live on, and Gabriel starts smoking heavily out of disappointment. Simply the sight of the actor in a cheap plastic restaurant cap, with his recent signature locks pulled back in a plain bun, leaning on a wall and smoking a smoke, is worth watching. The dishwasher getup totally alters his face and posture: Suddenly, the slim, suited action star of the John Wick movies becomes awkward, ordinary, and a lot more human.
The film isn't consistently enjoyable to view, particularly when Ansari (that also wrote the script) has to find plausible explanations for {Ar