Allow the actor Smile More Often: An Exploration at His Role in Good Fortune
Aziz Ansari's directorial debut, the whimsical film by comedian Aziz Ansari, has been struggling in theaters. Many reasons may account for the film's reception: Its generic title doesn't express its movie's distinctive charm. The screenplay can be moralizing and obvious with its themes. The performances are uninspired and staged, like the cast are reciting dialogue straight from a script. Moreover, the film comes during an era of financial anxiety and inequality, which may render audiences not very receptive to a narrative that implies wealthy people have every advantages while those in need possess spirit.
But, this is what Good Fortune stands out: It's original, bold, creative, often funny, and undoubtedly relevant. Plus, it provides a great the actor character-driven movie.
Reeves as an Guardian: His Typical Performance
Personally, I've never considered Reeves to be a good actor. The actor's monotonal speaking style and consistent look of mild perturbation have consistently felt one-note, regardless of the wide range of roles he has played during the past four decades of his career. Smart filmmakers have cast Reeves in parts in which his rigidity works ideally, including My Own Private Idaho to the sci-fi classic to John Wick. But nearly every one of these roles called for him to appear tough, closed-off, or detached.
In Good Fortune, the actor plays Gabriel, one minor protecting celestial being tasked with watching over individuals who text when behind the wheel. The character's whole job involves remaining in their vehicles and gently touching the drivers' arms when they are about to have an accident, warning them in order that they stop before impact. But, while standing overlooking his domain, looking down upon the mortal world like an alternative interpretation of a celestial figure from the director's renowned movie Wings of Desire, the character becomes aspirational. Gabriel wants to be a great protector and rescuer of lost individuals.
A Unexpected Shift: Reeves Playing a Mortal
Therefore, he presents himself to struggling odd-jobber Arj (played by Aziz Ansari), who's residing out of a vehicle and resenting his life. Gabriel proceeds to exchanges the man into the life of stupidly wealthy businessman a character (played by Seth Rogen). The idea of the experiment was for the character to understand Jeff's existence comes with major downsides, and thankfully go back to his original life, similar to a character in It's a Wonderful Life.
Issue is, Arj right away realizes how Jeff's problems (tedious appointments, expensive heating bill) prove minor and easily resolved with money. He further realizes how becoming affluent provides limitless chances for pleasurable enjoyment. He shows zero interest in going back to his previous life, and the angel is unable to compel Arj to go back. Subsequently, more trouble comes: For overstepping his mandate and disrupting the balance of existence, the character is fired as an angel role, and turned to a mortal.
The Revelation: Keanu Reeves Smiles
Personally, I remained never convinced by Reeves as an celestial being with big dreams and an intense desire to effect change. Reeves turns in the same vaguely constipated performance he has been providing for at least the past 3 ten-year periods. Viewing Reeves in the role of celestial being that has just turned human for the first time, on the other hand, proved to be highly entertaining, for a reason that really surprised me at first: This is something new for Reeves. Or to be precise, an aspect old.
Early into his baffling career as a mortal, clinging to Jeff (who Gabriel exchanged with the handyman's hand-to-mouth life and jobless status), the character starts tentatively experimenting with everyday activities such as chewing and consuming meals. Then Reeves smiles. Genuinely, cautiously, joyously beams. (It's far much convincing than the grin on the promotional image, that appears artificially added.)
Why That Smile Is Significant
The moment really surprised me to recognize how unexpected and refreshing the smile felt. At what point did we last audiences saw Keanu Reeves grin in a movie where he wasn't showing malice, sarcasm, or resentment? The actor likely attempts it at some point in the recent ill-conceived Bill & Ted Face the Music, but I'm not returning to the mess to find out. Reeves has been typecast with grim, murderous, broody, or simply serious roles for such a duration that merely watching him grin felt like seeing a completely different actor.
As the plot progresses, Gabriel ends up needing to get a dishwashing position, which fails to provide enough for survival, and Gabriel starts chain-smoking due to disappointment. Just the sight of the actor in a cheap paper restaurant cap, with his late-career trademark locks pulled back in a plain ponytail, slouching against a building and smoking a smoke, is worth watching. His dishwasher getup totally changes his appearance and body: Suddenly, the slim, well-dressed action star of his famous movies becomes gawky, unglamorous, and a lot increasingly human.
A Pleasure of Viewing Reeves Relax
The film is not consistently fun to watch, particularly when Ansari (that additionally wrote the screenplay) has to create believable reasons for {Ar
