Four decades have passed since Keanu Reeves first appeared on screen in “One Step Away,” launching a career that would make him a global sensation in iconic franchises like “Bill & Ted,” “The Matrix,” and “John Wick.” Despite his immense fame, critics haven’t always been kind, often scrutinizing his accents, delivery, and casting choices.
Yet, a select few have long recognized a deeper, more profound quality in Reeves’s performances. They argue that his signature low-affect, seemingly blank stare and distinctively “dude-like” demeanor are, in fact, the hallmarks of a truly excellent actor.
“I had to observe several of his performances to truly grasp the unique, almost idiosyncratic nature of his acting style,” explains Stephen Prina, a leading voice in this appreciation. “His portrayals consistently conveyed a sense of reticence. It wasn’t about outward display; it was more about a subtle, deliberate withdrawal.”
For those unfamiliar, Prina is a celebrated figure himself – a talented musician, composer, and artist. He’s also a dedicated “Keanuophile,” capable of effortlessly recalling details from Reeves’s extensive filmography, which boasts over 70 titles.
Long before the 61-year-old Reeves captivated Broadway audiences with his debut in Samuel Beckett’s commercially successful “Waiting for Godot” last month, Prina had already garnered attention for one of the earliest and most serious analyses of the actor’s craft.
This recognition came from a 1994 seminar Prina led at ArtCenter College of Design in Pasadena, California. The course, which Susan Orlean of The New Yorker famously described as “twelve intense weeks delving into culture, sociology, anthropology, and philosophy,” quickly became a subject of discussion.
“And yes,” Orlean playfully added, “there was, like, a ton of homework involved.”
Three decades have passed since that unique pass-fail class. Now, Reeves and Prina find their paths converging once more in Manhattan. Reeves is currently gracing the stage of the Hudson Theater on West 44th Street, while Prina is being celebrated with a three-month residency and retrospective at MoMA, just nine blocks away.
Far from being just another fanboy, Prina is a connoisseur of both high and low culture, adept at drawing connections between Keanu Reeves and intellectual giants like philosopher Michel Foucault, sociologist Richard Sennett, and even pop culture staples like Teen Beat magazine. All these diverse sources were essential reading for his 1994 class. Prina, for instance, proposes that elements of Reeves’s early film acting were influenced by Bertolt Brecht’s concept of “alienation,” a theatrical technique designed to distance the audience emotionally from the play.
“It was as if he were delivering lines as quotes,” Prina elaborated, “or perhaps that he already foresaw the ultimate conclusion.”
Before the curtain rose on “Godot,” the 70-year-old Prina shared with a reporter that his enduring admiration for Reeves began with the 1986 thriller “Rivers Edge,” a film about teenagers grappling with a murder in their community.
Naturally, Prina had seen blockbusters like “Speed” and “Point Break,” and, like many, was a fan of “The Matrix.” (“Who wasn’t?” he quipped). But his appreciation extends to lesser-known works, such as the 1997 Kerouac-esque caper “The Last Time I Committed Suicide.” In this film, Reeves famously bulked up to 200 pounds to embody the role of a disillusioned, bohemian character.
“I found that to be perfect casting,” Prina noted, “because it so perfectly captured the image of a golden boy who had utterly lost his way.”
Despite his meticulous study of Reeves’s acting, Prina admits he was surprised to hear about the actor taking on Beckett. Yet, he was eager to witness Reeves’s interpretation.
“My reaction was, ‘Alright, you’re venturing into that territory?’ I’m absolutely prepared to join him on that journey and see what unfolds,” he recounted.
And so, the esteemed academic did just that, attending a recent performance of “Godot.” The play also features Alex Winter, known as “Bill” to Reeves’s “Ted” in their trio of time-traveling films (with whispers of a potential fourth installment). Reeves and Winter diligently prepared for their roles by exploring Beckett archives, consulting scholars, and internalizing Beckett’s often repetitive and enigmatic dialogue, including lines that seemed almost tailor-made for them.
“We should have considered this a million years ago, back in the nineties,” Vladimir, played by Winter, remarks to Estragon, played by Reeves, early in the play. “We were quite respectable in those days.”
Prina’s deep fascination with Reeves was firmly established in 1991 with the film “My Own Private Idaho.” In the movie, Reeves portrayed a young hustler from a privileged background, earning strong reviews opposite River Phoenix in a screenplay that drew inspiration from Shakespeare’s “Henry IV” and “Henry V” plays.
“Everyone rightfully raved about River Phoenix’s performance; it was a classic example of method acting, where he truly became the character,” Prina observed.
“However, I believe Keanu’s role was significantly more challenging,” he continued, pointing out that Reeves was simultaneously performing in multiple styles—both naturalistically and by “delivering Shakespeare with a distinct valley-dude sensibility.”
“When audiences aren’t accustomed to Brechtian theatrical strategies, they might mistakenly label it as poor acting,” he concluded. “But no, it’s a deliberate artistic choice.”
For his part, Reeves released a statement acknowledging he recalled hearing about Prina’s 1994 class, but confirmed he has not yet seen Prina’s own artistic endeavors.
However, Reeves expressed his intention, stating he “will definitely check them out.”
Reviews for the Broadway production have been mixed, though many critics have commended the enduring chemistry and camaraderie between Winter and Reeves.
Remarkably, for a play centered on two despondent clowns caught in an endless loop of existential despair, this rendition of “Godot” delivers surprising moments of warmth and charm. These include tender hugs and a much-discussed scene in the second act where Vladimir and Estragon playfully mimic their Bill and Ted personas by playing air guitar – a moment Prina particularly enjoyed.
“I imagine the purists are up in arms over that one, but I thought, why pass up such an opportunity?” Prina remarked about the air guitar bit, adding, “You certainly won’t witness that in any other production of this play.”
Prina himself spent a decade performing with the experimental punk band Red Krayola. His own shows, including a recent revival of “Beat of the Traps” at MoMA in September, often carried a distinct, surreal Samuel Beckett-esque atmosphere, complete with wailing hard-rock drummers and an elderly vaudevillian in shimmering green sequins.
Following the final curtain of “Godot,” Prina admitted he needed a day or two to fully process his thoughts on the production. His eventual critique, as expected, was deeply insightful, drawing parallels to works like Arnold Schoenberg’s opera “Moses und Aron” when discussing the play’s Christian undertones.
He appeared genuinely to enjoy the production, stating, “Much to recommend.” He emphasized his continued awe at Reeves’s ability, after so many decades and countless memorable roles, to consistently defy and transcend public expectations.
“I believe that element of surprise, in how he engages with such diverse contexts, is entirely intentional,” Prina concluded. “It’s all part of a cohesive artistic vision.”