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Aziz Ansari's directorial debut, the fantasy comedy by actor Aziz Ansari, is struggling at the box office. Many reasons may explain the film's performance: The uninspired title doesn't express the film's distinctive appeal. Its script can be moralizing and heavy-handed with the themes. Its acting seem flat and presentational, as if the cast are reading dialogue directly from a script. Moreover, the film comes during an era of economic anxiety and disparity, which could render viewers not very open to a story that implies wealthy people enjoy all the benefits while those in need have heart.

But, this is where Good Fortune excels: The film is original, bold, creative, often humorous, and certainly relevant. Plus, it offers a great Keanu Reeves hangout movie.

Keanu Reeves as an Guardian: His Typical Performance

I have never regarded Reeves a good actor. His flat speaking style and consistent expression of mild concern has always felt one-note, despite the wide variety of roles he's taken on during the last four decades years. Astute directors have often cast him in parts where his rigidity works perfectly, including My Own Private Idaho to The Matrix to the action series. But nearly every one of those roles called for him to appear hardened, distant, or removed.

Throughout the film, Reeves plays Gabriel, one minor guardian celestial being assigned with watching over individuals that use their phones while behind the wheel. His entire duty is sitting in their cars and lightly making contact with the drivers' arms as they're about to have an accident, warning them in order that they brake before impact. But, when positioned overlooking the city, looking down upon humanity like an alternative interpretation of a celestial figure from the director's renowned film Wings of Desire, the character becomes aspirational. Gabriel desires to become an exceptional protector and a savior of wayward souls.

A Surprising Shift: Keanu as a Mortal

Therefore, Gabriel presents his presence to down-and-out handyman Arj (portrayed by the director), who is living out of a vehicle and resenting his situation. The angel proceeds to swaps Arj into the life of stupidly wealthy businessman Jeff (played by Seth Rogen). The idea of the experiment is that the character would realize Jeff's life comes with significant drawbacks, and gratefully go back to his own circumstances, much like the figure in the classic film.

Issue was, Arj right away discovers that Jeff's issues (tedious meetings, a pricey pool-heater bill) are negligible and readily resolved using wealth. He also sees how being affluent opens up limitless opportunities for pleasurable fun. The character shows zero desire in going back to his previous life, and Gabriel is unable to compel him to go back. Subsequently, additional bad news arrives: For overstepping his mandate and disrupting the order of the world, the character loses his position as an celestial role, and transformed to a mortal.

A Discovery: The Actor Grins

Personally, I remained never convinced by the actor playing an angel with big dreams and an intense desire to effect change. Reeves delivers a familiar somewhat constipated performance he's consistently offering for at least the last three decades. Viewing him as an angel that has just turned human for the first time, on the other hand, proved to be a blast, due to something that truly surprised me at first: This is something different for the actor. Or perhaps more accurately, something old.

Early during his baffling career being a mortal, staying with Jeff (who Gabriel exchanged with Arj's precarious life and underemployed situation), the character begins hesitantly experimenting with human experiences such as chewing and consuming food. Then Reeves smiles. Authentically, cautiously, joyously beams. (This is a lot more believable than his smile shown in the poster, which appears artificially added.)

Why That Smile Is Significant

The moment really took me aback to recognize how unexpected and welcome that expression felt. At what point was the last time we saw Keanu Reeves smile in a film where he wasn't showing malice, sarcasm, or bitterness? The actor likely tries it somewhere in the recent ill-conceived Bill & Ted Face the Music, however I am not returning to the disappointment to find out. Reeves has remained typecast with serious, murderous, broody, or just serious roles for so long that merely watching Reeves grin seemed like observing a completely new performer.

As the story goes on, the character ends up needing to get a dishwashing job, which fails to provide sufficient to live on, and he starts chain-smoking out of frustration. Simply the image of the actor in a disposable paper restaurant cap, his late-career signature long hair pulled back in a plain ponytail, slouching on a building and smoking a smoke, proves worthy of watching. His dishwasher getup completely alters his appearance and body: Suddenly, the lean, suited action star of his famous films is gawky, ordinary, and a lot more relatable.

The Joy of Watching Reeves Relax

Good Fortune isn't consistently fun to watch, particularly when Ansari (that also wrote the screenplay) must find plausible explanations for {Ar