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Good Fortune, this whimsical comedy from actor the director, is facing challenges at the box office. Many reasons could explain the film's performance: The uninspired name doesn't convey its film's distinctive appeal. Its screenplay can be moralizing and heavy-handed with the messages. Its performances seem flat and presentational, as if the actors are reading dialogue directly from the page. And, the film comes at a time marked by economic uncertainty and inequality, that could make audiences not very open to a narrative that implies wealthy people enjoy every advantages while the poor have heart.

However, here's where Good Fortune stands out: The film is original, daring, imaginative, frequently funny, and undoubtedly timely. And, it offers a great Keanu Reeves hangout movie.

Keanu Reeves as an Angel: A Familiar Portrayal

Personally, I've not considered Reeves a good actor. The actor's monotonal delivery and persistent expression of slight concern have consistently felt one-note, despite the broad variety of characters he's taken on during the past 40 of his career. Astute directors have placed him in parts in which that rigidity fits perfectly, including My Own Private Idaho to the sci-fi classic to John Wick. But almost all of those characters required Reeves to seem hardened, distant, or detached.

Throughout Good Fortune, the actor plays an angel, one minor guardian celestial being tasked with looking after people that text while behind the wheel. His entire job is remaining in their cars and lightly touching their arms when they are about to have an accident, alerting the person in order that they stop in time. But, when positioned overlooking the city, gazing on the mortal world like a interpretation of the angel from the director's renowned movie the angel story, the character becomes aspirational. Gabriel wants to be an exceptional guardian and rescuer of lost souls.

A Surprising Shift: Reeves as a Human

So, he presents his presence to down-and-out odd-jobber a character (portrayed by the director), who is residing out of a vehicle and resenting his situation. Gabriel then exchanges the man into the existence of stupidly wealthy businessman a character (acted by the comedian). The point of the experiment was for the character to understand Jeff's existence has major downsides, and gratefully go back to his own circumstances, similar to the character from the classic film.

Problem was, the character immediately realizes that Jeff's problems (tedious meetings, a pricey heating bill) are negligible and readily resolved using money. He also sees that being rich opens up limitless chances for self-indulgent fun. The character shows no desire in returning to his previous situation, and the angel can't force him to go back. Subsequently, more trouble comes: For exceeding his mandate and disrupting the order of the world, Gabriel is fired from his celestial job, and turned into a mortal.

The Revelation: The Actor Smiles

I was never convinced by the actor playing an celestial being who has grand aspirations and a burning wish to make a difference. Reeves turns in the same somewhat stiff performance he has consistently offering for no less than the last three ten-year periods. Viewing Reeves in the role of angel who's recently turned human initially, however, was highly entertaining, for a reason that truly astonished me initially: It's something new for Reeves. Or more accurately, an aspect from the past.

Early during the character's baffling career being a mortal, staying with Jeff (whom Gabriel had swapped with Arj's precarious existence and underemployed situation), Gabriel begins tentatively trying out everyday activities like chewing and consuming food. Then the actor smiles. Genuinely, hesitantly, joyously beams. (It's far more convincing than his grin shown in the promotional image, which appears artificially added.)

Why That Grin Matters

It truly surprised me to realize just how unexpected and welcome the expression was. When did we last we saw the actor grin in a film where he was not showing malice, irony, or resentment? The actor probably attempts it somewhere in the recent ill-conceived Bill & Ted Face the Music, but I am not going to returning to that disappointment to find out. The actor has been typecast with grim, murderous, introspective, or simply serious characters for so long that merely seeing him grin seemed like seeing a completely new performer.

As the story progresses, the character finds himself needing to get a dishwashing job, a role that fails to provide sufficient to live on, and he starts chain-smoking due to frustration. Just the image of the actor in a disposable plastic restaurant cap, with his recent trademark long hair pulled back in an unglamorous ponytail, slouching on a wall and puffing on a cigarette, is worth watching. The kitchen worker attire completely alters his face and posture: Unexpectedly, the lean, suited physical powerhouse of his famous movies becomes awkward, ordinary, and a lot more relatable.

A Pleasure of Viewing Keanu Relax

The film isn't always enjoyable to watch, particularly when the director (that also wrote the screenplay) must create believable reasons for {Ar