Allow Keanu Reeves Grin More: An Exploration at His Role in the New Film
Aziz Ansari's directorial debut, the fantasy comedy from comedian the director, has been struggling at the box office. Many reasons could explain its reception: The generic title fails to express the film's distinctive appeal. Its script can be moralizing and obvious regarding the themes. The performances seem uninspired and staged, as if the cast were reciting dialogue directly from the page. And, it arrives at a time marked by financial uncertainty and disparity, that may render audiences not very open to a story that suggests rich people enjoy every benefits while the poor have heart.
However, here's where Good Fortune excels: The film is unique, daring, creative, often funny, and undoubtedly timely. And, it offers a great Keanu Reeves hangout movie.
Reeves in the role of Guardian: His Typical Portrayal
Personally, I've not regarded Reeves a good actor. His monotonal delivery and consistent expression of mild concern has always felt limited, regardless of his broad range of characters he's played over the past four decades years. Smart filmmakers have placed Reeves in parts where his rigidity works perfectly, including My Own Private Idaho to the sci-fi classic to the action series. Yet almost all of those roles called for him to appear hardened, closed-off, and removed.
Throughout Good Fortune, the actor plays Gabriel, one low-level protecting celestial being tasked with looking after people that use their phones while driving. The character's entire duty is remaining in his vehicles and lightly making contact with their shoulders as they're close to have an accident, alerting them so the driver brake in time. But, when standing overlooking the city, looking down on humanity similar to an alternative version of the angel in Wim Wenders' classic film Wings of Desire, Gabriel gets aspirational. He desires to become a great protector and rescuer of lost souls.
A Unexpected Turn: Reeves as a Human
So, he reveals himself to down-and-out odd-jobber Arj (played by Aziz Ansari), who's living out of his car and cursing his situation. The angel then swaps Arj into the existence of extremely wealthy tech mogul a character (played by Seth Rogen). The point of the exercise was that Arj to understand Jeff's existence comes with major drawbacks, and thankfully go back to his original life, similar to the character from the classic film.
Problem is, the character right away realizes how the mogul's issues (boring meetings, expensive pool-heater bill) are minor and readily solved using wealth. He also sees that being rich provides endless chances for pleasurable enjoyment. The character shows zero desire in going back to his own life, and Gabriel can't compel him to return. Then, additional trouble arrives: For exceeding his mandate and messing with the order of the world, Gabriel is fired from his angel job, and turned into a human being.
The Discovery: Keanu Reeves Grins
I was not convinced by the actor as an celestial being who has grand dreams and a burning desire to effect change. Reeves delivers a familiar vaguely stiff performance he's consistently offering for at least the past three ten-year periods. Watching Reeves as an angel that has just turned mortal initially, however, was a blast, due to something which truly astonished viewers initially: It's something new for Reeves. Or to be precise, an aspect from the past.
Early during his confusing experience as a human, clinging to the wealthy character (who Gabriel exchanged with the handyman's hand-to-mouth existence and jobless situation), the character starts hesitantly experimenting with human experiences like eating and swallowing meals. Then the actor smiles. Authentically, hesitantly, happily smiles. (This is a lot more convincing than his grin on the poster, that looks digitally altered.)
The Reason That Grin Is Significant
It truly took me aback to recognize how unexpected and welcome the smile was. At what point was the last time audiences saw Keanu Reeves grin in a movie where he wasn't showing malice, sarcasm, or resentment? He probably tries a smile somewhere in the recent misbegotten Bill & Ted Face the Music, however I'm not going to revisiting the disappointment to find out. Reeves has remained stuck with serious, violent, broody, or just solemn characters for such a duration that just watching him grin seemed like observing a completely different actor.
While the story goes on, Gabriel ends up needing to get a kitchen job, which fails to provide enough for survival, and Gabriel starts chain-smoking out of disappointment. Just the sight of Reeves in a disposable plastic food-service hat, his late-career trademark long hair tied in an unglamorous bun, leaning on a wall and puffing on a smoke, proves worth watching. His kitchen worker getup completely alters his appearance and body: Unexpectedly, the lean, suited action star of his famous films becomes gawky, unglamorous, and much increasingly human.
The Pleasure of Watching Reeves Relax
Good Fortune is not always enjoyable to view, particularly when the director (that additionally wrote the script) has to create plausible reasons for {Ar