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Good Fortune, the whimsical film from actor Aziz Ansari, has been facing challenges at the box office. Several factors may explain its reception: Its generic name fails to convey the movie's unique appeal. The screenplay is often preachy and heavy-handed with the themes. The acting are flat and staged, like the cast were reciting dialogue straight from a script. Moreover, it arrives during an era marked by economic uncertainty and disparity, that may render audiences less open to a narrative which implies wealthy people enjoy all the advantages while the poor possess heart.

However, this is what the movie stands out: The film is original, daring, creative, often funny, and undoubtedly relevant. And, it offers a great the actor character-driven experience.

Reeves in the role of Angel: A Familiar Performance

I have never considered Reeves a strong performer. His monotonal speaking style and persistent look of slight concern has consistently felt limited, despite his wide variety of characters he's played over the last four decades of his career. Astute filmmakers have often cast Reeves in parts where his rigidity works perfectly, from his early work to the sci-fi classic to the action series. Yet almost every one of those characters required him to seem hardened, closed-off, and removed.

Throughout Good Fortune, Reeves portrays Gabriel, one minor guardian celestial being tasked with watching over individuals that use their phones when behind the wheel. The character's entire job involves remaining in his vehicles and lightly making contact with their shoulders as they are about to crash, alerting them so they brake before impact. But, when standing high above his domain, looking down on humanity like an alternative version of a celestial figure in Wim Wenders' classic movie Wings of Desire, the character becomes ambitious. Gabriel desires to become a great guardian and a savior of lost individuals.

The Unexpected Shift: Reeves Playing a Mortal

So, Gabriel reveals himself to down-and-out handyman Arj (played by the director), who's residing out of a vehicle and resenting his life. Gabriel then exchanges Arj into the existence of stupidly wealthy businessman a character (acted by Seth Rogen). This idea behind the exercise is that Arj to realize Jeff's existence comes with significant drawbacks, and thankfully return to his original life, much like a character from It's a Wonderful Life.

Issue is, Arj right away discovers that Jeff's issues (tedious appointments, expensive heating bill) prove minor and easily resolved with money. He further sees that being rich opens up limitless chances for self-indulgent enjoyment. He shows no desire in returning to his own life, and Gabriel is unable to compel Arj to go back. Subsequently, more trouble comes: For overstepping his duties and disrupting the order of the world, the character is fired from his celestial role, and turned to a mortal.

A Discovery: The Actor Grins

Personally, I remained never persuaded by Reeves playing an celestial being who has big aspirations and an intense wish to effect change. He delivers a familiar vaguely stiff acting he's consistently providing for no less than the last three decades. Viewing Reeves in the role of angel that has recently become human for the first time, however, was highly entertaining, due to something which really astonished me initially: It's something new for Reeves. Or perhaps more accurately, an aspect old.

Early into the character's confusing experience as a human, staying with Jeff (who Gabriel exchanged with Arj's precarious existence and jobless status), Gabriel begins hesitantly trying out everyday activities such as chewing and swallowing food. Then Reeves grins. Genuinely, hesitantly, joyously beams. (This is far more believable than his grin shown in the poster, that looks digitally altered.)

Why That Smile Matters

The moment really took me aback to realize how unexpected and welcome that smile felt. At what point did we last audiences saw the actor smile in a film where he wasn't expressing ill will, irony, or resentment? The actor likely tries it at some point in 2020's ill-conceived Bill & Ted Face the Music, however I am not revisiting the mess to find out. The actor has been typecast with grim, violent, introspective, or simply solemn roles for so long that just seeing Reeves grin felt like observing a completely new actor.

While the story goes on, Gabriel ends up needing to take a kitchen job, which fails to provide sufficient to live on, and Gabriel starts smoking heavily out of disappointment. Simply the image of Reeves in a cheap paper food-service cap, with his recent signature long hair tied in an unglamorous bun, slouching against a wall and puffing on a cigarette, is worth watching. His kitchen worker attire completely alters his face and body: Unexpectedly, the lean, well-dressed action star of his famous movies is gawky, unglamorous, and a lot increasingly human.

A Joy of Watching Reeves Relax

The film isn't always enjoyable to watch, especially when the director (who also authored the script) has to create believable reasons for {Ar