Allow the actor Grin More: An Exploration at the Actor's Performance in Good Fortune
Good Fortune, this whimsical comedy by actor Aziz Ansari, is facing challenges in theaters. Several reasons may explain its reception: Its generic name doesn't express its film's distinctive charm. The screenplay is often moralizing and heavy-handed regarding the messages. The performances are flat and presentational, like the cast are reading lines directly from a script. And, it arrives at a time marked by economic uncertainty and disparity, that may make viewers less receptive to a narrative which implies wealthy individuals enjoy every benefits while the poor possess spirit.
However, here's where the movie stands out: It's original, bold, imaginative, frequently humorous, and undoubtedly relevant. And, it provides a enjoyable the actor character-driven experience.
Keanu Reeves as an Angel: A Familiar Portrayal
Personally, I've never considered Keanu Reeves to be a good performer. His monotonal delivery and consistent expression of slight perturbation has consistently felt one-note, regardless of his broad range of characters he has taken on during the last 40 years. Smart directors have cast Reeves in parts in which his rigidity works ideally, from My Own Private Idaho to The Matrix to the action series. Yet almost all of these characters called for him to appear tough, closed-off, and detached.
In Good Fortune, the actor plays Gabriel, a low-level guardian angel assigned with looking after people who text while behind the wheel. His whole job involves remaining in his cars and gently touching their shoulders when they are close to have an accident, warning them in order that they stop before impact. However, when standing overlooking his domain, gazing upon the mortal world similar to an alternative version of the angel in Wim Wenders' renowned movie Wings of Desire, Gabriel gets ambitious. He desires to be a great guardian and rescuer of lost individuals.
A Unexpected Shift: Reeves Playing a Human
So, he reveals himself to struggling odd-jobber Arj (portrayed by the director), who's living out of his car and cursing his situation. The angel proceeds to exchanges the man with the life of stupidly wealthy tech mogul Jeff (acted by Seth Rogen). This point of the experiment was for the character would realize the wealthy man's life has major drawbacks, and thankfully go back to his own life, much like a figure from It's a Wonderful Life.
Issue was, Arj right away realizes that the mogul's problems (boring appointments, a pricey heating invoice) prove negligible and easily resolved with money. He further realizes that being affluent provides endless opportunities for pleasurable enjoyment. He shows no interest in going back to his own life, and the angel can't force him to go back. Then, additional bad news comes: For overstepping his mandate and disrupting the balance of existence, the character loses his position from his angel job, and turned into a human being.
The Discovery: The Actor Smiles
I was never convinced by Reeves as an celestial being who has big aspirations and an intense wish to effect change. Reeves delivers the same vaguely constipated acting he has been offering for no less than the past 3 ten-year periods. Viewing him as an angel who's recently become mortal initially, however, proved to be highly entertaining, due to something which really astonished viewers initially: It's an element different for Reeves. Or to be precise, something from the past.
Soon into the character's confusing experience being a mortal, staying with Jeff (whom the angel had swapped with Arj's hand-to-mouth existence and jobless situation), the character begins tentatively trying out everyday experiences such as chewing and swallowing food. Then the actor grins. Genuinely, hesitantly, happily smiles. (It's far much convincing than his smile on the poster, which looks artificially added.)
The Reason This Smile Matters
The moment really surprised me to realize just how unexpected and refreshing the smile was. When was the last time we observed Keanu Reeves smile in a movie where he was not expressing ill will, irony, or bitterness? He likely tries it at some point in 2020's ill-conceived Bill & Ted Face the Music, but I'm not revisiting the disappointment to find out. The actor has been stuck with grim, violent, broody, or just serious characters for so long that just seeing him grin seemed like seeing a completely new performer.
As the plot goes on, Gabriel ends up needing to get a kitchen job, a role that fails to provide sufficient for survival, and he starts chain-smoking due to disappointment. Simply the sight of Reeves in a disposable plastic food-service hat, with his recent trademark locks pulled back in an unglamorous bun, slouching on a building and smoking a smoke, proves worthy of the price of admission. His dishwasher getup completely changes his face and body: Suddenly, the slim, suited physical powerhouse of his famous movies becomes awkward, ordinary, and a lot increasingly relatable.
The Joy of Watching Reeves Relax
The film isn't consistently fun to view, especially when the director (that also authored the script) must find believable explanations for {Ar