Near perfect Fortune hindered by conclusion
There’s a tempered optimism in Aziz Ansari’s Good Fortune, and for good reason. When his film Being Mortal was canceled in mid-production due to accusations of impropriety leveled towards its star, Bill Murray, the writer/director needed a fresh start. Turning lemons into lemonade, he was able to pivot and began filming another script at his disposal, a role-reversal comedy with a sacred angle.
Taking a page from Here Comes Mr. Jordan (1942) and its remake, Heaven Can Wait, (1978), Ansari’s Fortune is a decidedly old-fashioned fable that tackles modern concerns. Wearing its heart on its sleeve while sporting wry humor and social commentary, this is a film that has you quietly smiling to yourself from the first moment to the last. Yet, Ansari is responsible enough to take a hard look at the social and financial inequities in our country, an approach that is so well-done it dulls his optimistic ending.
Ansari is Arj, a documentary filmmaker adrift in Hollywood. Unable to find steady employment, he dives headfirst into the gig economy, taking any job that comes his way. One of his assignments takes him to the home of Jeff (Seth Rogan), an investor in the tech industry and various other ventures. He has more money than he knows what to do with and fills his days basically doing nothing. Cleaning up his garage is beneath him, a chore Arj completes and parlays into becoming Jeff’s assistant.
Unfortunately, a misunderstanding occurs, Arj is fired and he’s back to living in his car. Enter Gabriel (a deadpan hilarious Keanu Reeves), a well-meaning angel who’s been watching over our hero and longs to help. Though his assignment is to sit unawares in the back of people’s cars and warn them when they’re about to get into an accident because they’re texting while driving, Gabriel feels he has a greater purpose and sets out to save Arj. Making his presence known, he grants his charge’s wish to switch places with Jeff, who suddenly finds himself trying to navigate a way of life he was blissfully unaware of.
Though done through a comic lens, Ansari’s depiction of those struggling to survive on the margins of society rings true. Jeff realizes very quickly the system is stacked against the working class, the rising cost of living making it nearly impossible for many to earn enough to stay afloat. The instability of employment, the impersonal approach companies take towards their employees and ever-increasing prices are all cited as causes for Arj’s struggles, as well as the accumulation of Jeff’s riches.
Yet, Ansari tries to put a positive spin on things with a subplot involving Elena (Keke Palmer), a woman struggling as Arj is, attempting to organize a union at her workplace. A romance is possible between them opposing views on the importance of money and status get in the way.
Circumstances occur that render Gabriel human and as a result he discovers tacos, dancing and friendship, all of which he takes great joy in. In this way, Ansari stresses the importance of how small things like these, as well as the value of love and family, give meaning to our lives. Yet, when Gabriel gives Arj a glimpse of his future with Elena and sees it will be filled with more than its share of financial struggles, the film’s hopeful message becomes muted.
In the end, Ansari writes himself into a corner. Ultimately, Arj is given the choice to stay in Jeff’s life or return to his own, a decision that one would think would be obvious. And while the outcome is sweet and well-meaning, it lacks realism. Overall, I liked Fortune and the message it contains but it regrettably feels out of step with the times. Then again, one of the purposes of any fiction is to portray a vision of what we hope can be, which Ansari does with conviction. Here’s hoping someone is listening. In Theaters.
Gripping Neighbor a vital cautionary tale
It was a perfect storm of misfortunes that led to the tragedy that befell Ajike Owens. The Florida mother had had numerous run-ins with Susan Lorincz, her meddlesome neighbor from across the street. Harassing the children in the neighborhood, including Owens’, the woman had constantly called the police to register one complaint after another, claiming her property had been repeatedly trespassed upon and that she was now receiving threats. That Lorincz was mentally ill becomes obvious. That she was so easily able to get a gun is criminal. That she felt justified in killing Owens when she approached her front door is the tragic result of a societal mindset.
Greeta Gandbhir’s The Perfect Neighbor, one of the year’s best documentaries, recounts the events that led to this shooting as well as the aftermath, with an immediacy that makes the story all the more heartbreaking. Like a visual epistolary novel, the director’s work is composed of bodycam and security footage as well as film from Lorincz’s trial. The result is a uniquely gripping expose, one in which we see the limits of law enforcement, the escalation of animosity between the aggrieved parties and ultimately, frustration over the missed opportunities that might have led to a peaceful resolution.
From the start, the viewer has very little sympathy for Lorincz. The quintessential “get-off-my-lawn” neighbor, she is living under the misconception the neighborhood children are not allowed to play in the abandoned lot next to her home. Posting “No Trespassing” signs, which only serve to encourage the kids, she’s constantly calling the police to complain about the little ones playing football or being too loud. They become so constant, they become a running joke for the police officers who must repeatedly respond.
This approach only pours gas on the fire of an escalating situation. Though they have been told nicely to stay away from Lorincz, kids being kids, they go out of their way at times to harass her. When games of “Ding-Dong-Ditch” ensue, it’s just a matter of time before things spiral out of control. And when they do, with Owens lying dead in the street, her children distraught and her friends furious, all that can be asked is how this situation could have gotten so out of hand.
While we are not privy to things not included in the film that would affect our perception, Gandbhir seems to portray all the respective parties even-handedly. It’s obvious from the beginning that Lorincz is in need of help and that Owens is protective of her children. The other adults who live on the street don’t take Lorincz seriously, regarding her simply as a nuisance, as do the cops whose hands are tied. All of this is presented via bodycam footage that appears to be undoctored, the result being a “you-are-there” experience that ultimately proves unnerving.
More than anything, Neighbor is a powerful argument for stricter gun control laws. Lorincz should never have been able to purchase a firearm. Exacerbating the situation is Florida’s Stand Your Ground law, which Lorincz thought justified her blindly firing through her front door at Owens simply because she felt threatened. As with so many things regarding this issue, common sense is sacrificed on the altar of “inalienable rights,” the result being the death of a caring mother and three children orphaned.
In the end, Gandbhir’s restraint proves to be the film’s greatest asset. She knows full well nothing need be exaggerated. Neighbor’s story is tragic enough in its own right, circumstances we’ve all become numb to, what with their infuriating frequency. Streaming on Netflix.
Truth a moving tale of courage and sacrifice
On Oct. 27, 1942, Helmuth Hubener was executed by officers of the Third Reich. He was found guilty of acts of sedition and treason. He had distributed leaflets with two of his friends, exposing Hitler’s criminal practices and calling for resistance. He killed no one, assaulted no one. His crimes were committed with a typewriter.
The manner of his execution was beheading. He was only 17 years old.
Matt Whitaker’s Truth & Treason recounts the circumstances that led to Hubener’s death, events that are tragically and infuriatingly timely. Stumbling out of the gate with a slowly paced first act, the film ultimately rights itself, the script by Ethan Vincent and Whitaker finding its focus as the circumstances that prompted Hubener’s activism are revealed.
Smarter and more mature than his peers, Hubener (an exceptional Ewan Horrocks) is part of a middle-class family, his stepfather an army officer, his mother a homemaker. The young man’s exceptional writing skills are noticed and put to good use when he’s given a position at Hamburg’s City Hall. There, he stumbles upon a room where books banned by the Reich have been stored. His curiosity peaked, he begins to peruse these volumes. At the same time, he finds a shortwave radio in his home, purchased and hidden by his stepbrother. In effort to control their own narrative, the government has banned these devices, which prompts Hubener to start listening to the BBC. News reports of Hitler’s military invasions and other heinous practices, coupled with the various new ethos’ he’s discovered in the banned books, plant a seed of rebellion in his mind.
However, it doesn’t blossom until his Jewish friend Julius (Ben Dilloway), targeted to be arrested and taken away, commits suicide to avoid that fate. Disillusioned and furious, Hubener decides to act by typing up screeds condemning Hitler and his actions, printing them on red paper, distributing them in mailboxes, under windshield wipers and in any other accessible spot. He enlists his two friends, Karl and Rudi (Ferdinand McKay and Daf Thomas) to help him, the boys’ efforts eventually coming to the attention of Inspector Mussener (Rupert Evans), who is grieving the loss of his young daughter, killed during an Allied air raid.
Unfortunately, this is a familiar tale but for the most part, in Whitaker’s hands it’s told well. The performances from all are sincere and effective, while a sense of palpable tension steadily builds in the main storyline. However, the script could have used a trimming, scenes involving Hubener and his first love (Elli Kluge) slowing the action down at key moments. More problematic is the character of Mussener. He pursues Hubener with Javer-like intensity, only to develop a begrudging respect and sympathy for his prey. Not enough time is spent developing his change-of-heart, the revelation at the end that he tried to gain clemency for Hubener landing with a thud, lacking narrative conviction.
Still, there’s no denying the power of the story, as well as its increasingly stark portrayal. Though working within the constraints of a PG-13 rating, Whitaker is still able to convey the horror of Hubener’s final days. The simple sight of seeing this young man laid and fastened into the guillotine is enough to drive home the reprehensible and amoral intent of Hitler’s Reich. It’s an image you won’t be able to shake, Hubener’s courage and sacrifice still echoing through the years, Truth doing them both justice. In Theaters.
This article appears in October 16-22, 2025.
