Good Fortune Review: I have a simple rule: if Keanu Reeves is in it, I’m there. I don’t care if he’s fighting assassins, delivering monologues about destiny, or, in this case, playing a slightly confused angel sent to fix someone’s life; I’ll buy the ticket.
And that’s what Good Fortune is: a strange, warm, slightly scrappy little movie that takes on capitalism, kindness, and cosmic chaos — with Keanu right in the middle of it, glowing like only he can.

My Rating: 3.0/5
Category | Details |
---|---|
Title | Good Fortune |
Genre | Comedy / Fantasy / Drama |
Director | Aziz Ansari |
Writers | Aziz Ansari, Jonathan Green, Gabe Liedman |
Main Cast | Keanu Reeves (Gabriel), Aziz Ansari (gig worker/lead), Seth Rogen (billionaire friend) |
Release Year | 2025 |
Runtime | 1h 38m |
Language | English |
Country | United States |
Table of Contents
ToggleThe Setup — Ordinary Man, Extraordinary Mess
Aziz Ansari directs and stars as an overworked gig worker whose car is both his office and his bed. You can practically smell the takeout containers and energy drink cans rolling on the floor. One night, in a rare moment of hope, he mutters something like, “I just wish someone would give me a damn break.”
Cue the divine intervention.
Gabriel — that’s Keanu — literally drops into his life. An angel, dressed like he borrowed his clothes from a thrift shop, clutching a clipboard and an almost irritating level of optimism. His mission?
Show Aziz’s character that money isn’t the answer. But here’s the punchline: once Gabriel actually gives him money, everything suddenly feels… fixed. For a while, anyway. That’s the movie’s hook, and it’s sharper than it sounds.
Keanu Reeves as Gabriel: A Miracle in Deadpan Form
Let’s talk about Keanu, because this movie belongs to him. His Gabriel isn’t the halo-wearing, choir-singing type. He’s awkward, curious, and deeply sincere. There’s this one scene, Gabriel tries pani puri from a Mumbai-style street cart and the camera lingers on his face as the flavors hit him. His eyes go wide, like he’s just discovered chaos and beauty in the same bite. It’s weirdly touching.
Reeves plays the role like he’s walking the line between enlightenment and confusion. His comedic timing is unintentional, which makes it even better. Every pause, every raised eyebrow feels earned. He’s not playing funny, he’s just honest, and somehow, that’s hilarious.
Ansari’s Direction and the Heart Beneath the Jokes
Aziz Ansari wears his director’s hat like someone who’s got something real to say but still wants you to laugh while he says it. You can tell he’s pouring personal frustration into this. The gig worker exhaustion feels lived-in, the constant app notifications, the invisible labor, the quiet humiliation of trying to “stay positive” when you’re drowning.
I’ve been there. There’s a scene where Aziz’s character scrolls through his phone, switching between three different delivery apps, and his eyes just glaze over. I swear I’ve had that exact moment, staring at the same screen, calculating gas money versus delivery pay. The movie gets that truth — the grind, the absurdity, the weird sense of pride in just surviving.

When the Angel Meets the Algorithm
Things really kick off when Gabriel grants him “good fortune”, literally. Suddenly, the man’s rich. Designer suits, private jets, expensive wine. And here’s the thing: it feels good. The film doesn’t shy away from showing that.
There’s a montage where Aziz’s character’s posture changes, his smile looks effortless, and his laugh actually sounds free for once. But slowly, you see the cracks, the loneliness, the loss of connection to the people who once mattered.
It’s not subtle, but it’s effective. Ansari’s script isn’t out to shame anyone for wanting comfort. It just asks, what if you gained everything but forgot what mattered along the way?
Seth Rogen: The Chaotic Reality Check
Rogen slides in like the devil on the shoulder, a billionaire bro who means well but represents everything Gabriel’s warning about. He’s funny, obviously, but there’s an edge here. He’s the guy who buys happiness and then gets mad when the receipt doesn’t show up.
His chemistry with Keanu and Aziz is spot-on. There’s a scene, probably improvised, where Rogen’s trying to explain cryptocurrency to Gabriel. Keanu listens, head tilted, then says, completely straight-faced: “So… money that isn’t real?” The whole theater cracked up.
Also Read: Roofman Review: I Went In Expecting a Comedy… Roofman Broke My Heart Instead
Where Good Fortune Falters
If there’s one place Good Fortune drags, it’s the first act. We spend a bit too long watching Aziz suffer through the grind. We get it, he’s broke, he’s tired, life’s unfair. It’s like Ansari doesn’t fully trust the audience to feel it without hammering it in.
Once Keanu shows up, though, the pacing shifts. The whole film feels lighter, funnier, more alive. The second half flows like it’s powered by Keanu’s quiet chaos.
The ending, though, let’s talk about that. Without spoiling it, I’ll just say it tries to tie everything up neatly. Maybe too neatly. It’s touching, but a little safe. I wanted a riskier landing, something messier, truer. Still, it’s hard to complain when the emotional notes hit this well.
What the Good Fortune Really Nails
The comedy isn’t punchline-driven. It’s situational, human, and often improvised. You laugh because it feels real, the awkward pauses, the offbeat timing, the absurdity of angels trying to navigate capitalism. It’s not trying to be a “message movie,” but it ends up saying something honest about empathy, burnout, and what “enough” really means.
By the end, you’re not sure if Gabriel fixed anyone’s life or just made them see it differently. And that’s kind of the point.
Good & Bad in Good Fortune
What Worked (Good) | What Didn’t (Bad) |
---|---|
Keanu Reeves’ hilarious and heartfelt performance | Slightly slow-paced opening act |
Natural chemistry among the cast | Ending feels a bit rushed |
Realistic portrayal of gig workers | Some emotional beats feel underdeveloped |
Genuine humor instead of forced jokes | A few tonal inconsistencies |
Warm, optimistic message | Predictable midsection |
My Take
Good Fortune isn’t flashy, and it’s not trying to be. It’s heartfelt, a little uneven, and quietly profound in moments. You walk out smiling, thinking about your own definition of fortune, and maybe feeling a little kinder toward yourself.
It’s the kind of movie that doesn’t scream its message; it just sits next to you, offers you pani puri, and lets you figure it out yourself.
Keanu is the soul. Rogen is the chaos. Ansari is us, trying to find balance in a world that keeps shifting the goalposts.
Would I recommend it? Absolutely. Not because it’s perfect, but because it’s honest, and in movies, that’s a kind of miracle.