Good Fortune, the fantasy comedy from actor the director, has been facing challenges in theaters. Many reasons could account for the film's reception: The generic name fails to express its film's unique appeal. Its script is often moralizing and obvious with the themes. Its performances are uninspired and presentational, like the actors were reciting dialogue directly from the page. Moreover, it arrives during an era of financial uncertainty and inequality, that could make viewers less open to a narrative which implies wealthy individuals have all the benefits while those in need possess heart.
But, this is what Good Fortune stands out: The film is original, bold, imaginative, often humorous, and undoubtedly relevant. And, it offers an unexpectedly great Keanu Reeves hangout movie.
I have never regarded Reeves a strong actor. His monotonal delivery and consistent expression of slight perturbation has consistently felt one-note, regardless of his broad variety of characters he has played during the last 40 years. Smart directors have often cast him in roles in which that rigidity works perfectly, including My Own Private Idaho to The Matrix to the action series. But nearly all of these roles required Reeves to appear tough, distant, and removed.
Throughout the film, Reeves portrays an angel, one minor guardian celestial being assigned with looking after people that text while driving. The character's whole duty involves sitting in his vehicles and lightly touching their shoulders as they're about to have an accident, warning them so they stop before impact. But, while standing high above the city, gazing upon humanity like a interpretation of a celestial figure from Wim Wenders' classic film Wings of Desire, the character becomes aspirational. He desires to become a great protector and a savior of lost souls.
So, Gabriel presents himself to down-and-out handyman Arj (portrayed by Aziz Ansari), who's living out of his car and cursing his situation. The angel proceeds to swaps Arj into the existence of extremely wealthy businessman Jeff (played by Seth Rogen). This point of the exercise was for the character to understand Jeff's existence comes with significant downsides, and thankfully return to his original circumstances, much like a character in It's a Wonderful Life.
Issue was, Arj right away discovers that the mogul's issues (boring meetings, a pricey pool-heater invoice) are minor and readily resolved using wealth. Arj further sees that being affluent provides endless opportunities for self-indulgent enjoyment. He has zero desire in going back to his own situation, and the angel is unable to compel Arj to go back. Subsequently, additional bad news arrives: Because of exceeding his duties and messing with the balance of the world, the character is fired as an angel role, and turned into a mortal.
I was never convinced by the actor playing an angel with big aspirations and an intense desire to effect change. He delivers a familiar vaguely constipated performance he has consistently offering for no less than the past 3 ten-year periods. Viewing Reeves in the role of angel that has just become human for the first time, on the other hand, proved to be a blast, for a reason that truly astonished me initially: It's an element new for the actor. Or to be precise, an aspect from the past.
Early into his confusing experience as a human, clinging to Jeff (who Gabriel had swapped with Arj's precarious existence and jobless situation), Gabriel begins hesitantly trying out human activities like chewing and consuming meals. Then the actor grins. Genuinely, cautiously, joyously beams. (This is far more believable than his smile on the promotional image, which appears digitally altered.)
The moment truly took me aback to recognize how surprising and welcome the expression felt. At what point did we last audiences observed Keanu Reeves grin in a movie in which he was not expressing ill will, sarcasm, or bitterness? The actor likely attempts a smile somewhere in 2020's ill-conceived the sequel, however I'm not going to revisiting the mess to find out. Reeves has remained stuck with grim, violent, introspective, or just solemn roles for such a duration that merely watching him grin seemed like observing an entirely different actor.
As the story progresses, Gabriel finds himself having to get a kitchen job, which fails to provide enough for survival, and he starts chain-smoking due to disappointment. Just the image of the actor in a cheap plastic food-service cap, with his recent trademark long hair tied in a plain ponytail, leaning against a building and smoking a smoke, proves worthy of watching. The dishwasher getup completely changes his appearance and posture: Suddenly, the lean, well-dressed physical powerhouse of his famous films is gawky, unglamorous, and a lot more human.
The film isn't consistently enjoyable to watch, especially when Ansari (who also authored the script) must create believable explanations for {Ar
A tech journalist and digital strategist with over a decade of experience covering AI, cybersecurity, and startup ecosystems across Europe.