Welcome back to the Deep Dive. Today, we're really
digging into the whole architecture of enduring
fame, looking specifically at the career of Keanu
Charles Reeves. Yeah, it's quite a story. We've
got this huge stack of information covering,
well, everything. A professional journey filled
with massive blockbusters, sure, but also this
deep personal integrity and honestly, some truly...
baffling career risks. It really does feel like
a deep dive into an anomaly, doesn't it? I mean,
sustaining a career over four decades is one
thing. Right. But the way he's done it. It's
so cyclical. Multiple massive hits, then flops
that would sink other actors walking away from,
you know, staggering amounts of money. And then
bouncing back stronger than ever, sometimes defining
whole genres. Exactly. He's almost like a textbook
case study in building longevity. It seems to
be built on this mix of artistic diversity and,
well, just impeccable personal conduct. Absolutely.
And just to frame his impact, it's not just about
the box office, is it? Not at all. You look at
the critical side. In 2020, the New York Times
ranked him the fourth greatest actor of the 21st
century. I mean, fourth. That's huge. That's
serious critical weight. And then just two years
later, Time magazine puts him on their list of
the 100 most influential people in the world.
So it's gone beyond just being a movie star.
It's cultural resonance, real respect. So our
mission today really is to unpack how he pulled
that off. How did he manage that? Yeah, we're
going to trace it all from his complex, globetrotting
childhood and those early struggles with school.
Right. Through The Matrix, which was just, you
know, a phenomenon. His financial decisions,
which are fascinating in themselves. Integrity
piece, yeah. His other ventures, directing comics,
even custom motorcycles. And then finally, try
to understand that unique public. Yeah. The whole
internet's boyfriend thing. How does it all connect?
We're looking for those structural decisions,
those threads that made his fame stick, that
made it permanent. Exactly. The architecture,
like you said. Okay, let's start right at the
beginning. The foundations. His background. Keanu
Reeves, born in Beirut, Lebanon, 1964. Right
off the bat, it's international. Even the name
Keanu, it's Hawaiian. means cool breeze over
the mountains. Which perfectly signals that really
diverse heritage he has. Oh, absolutely. It's
an incredible blend. His mother, Patricia Taylor,
she's English, from Essex, a costume designer.
Okay. And his father, Samuel Nowlin Reeves Jr.,
American, from Hawaii. But his ancestry is this
amazing mix, native Hawaiian. Chinese, English,
Portuguese. Wow. And we know specifically his
paternal grandmother was of Hawaiian and Chinese
descent. So it's a real tapestry. His parents
divorced pretty young, right? In 1966. Yeah,
very young. And his mother eventually knew the
family around quite a bit before settling mostly
in Toronto in the Yorkville neighborhood. So
how did all these sort of diverse cultural threads
shape him growing up? Well, you can see the direct
influences. He talks about being raised with
a strong sense of English manners, which comes
from his mother. Okay, the British influence.
But at the same time, his grandmother's heritage
meant he grew up surrounded by Chinese art, furniture,
even the cuisine. So you have this mix of disciplined
British etiquette and this East Asian cultural
exposure. That's a really interesting combination.
You think that plays out later. I think so. It
creates this kind of global sensibility, maybe
an openness. You definitely see echoes of it
later in his career choices, especially things
like the martial arts focus or his directing.
Makes sense. But before he found his footing
professionally, school was a real struggle for
him. Yeah, the information we have points to
that. He's described himself as a private kid,
and he really battled with dyslexia. Which must
have made traditional schooling incredibly difficult.
Hugely. I mean, he attended four different high
schools. That tells you something about the struggle
to find it. fit. Four. Wow. Yeah. And he was
even expelled from one, the Toby Cook School
of the Arts, apparently for being too rambunctious,
maybe speaking out of turn too often. Sounds
like maybe some restless energy, perhaps frustration
from the learning difficulties. Could be. It
all led to him dropping out completely at 17,
just leaving school behind. And that energy,
it needed an outlet. Before acting really took
hold, it was sports, wasn't it? Specifically
hockey. Yes. He was seriously good. An ice hockey
goalkeeper, they called him The Wall. Played
at De La Salle College. Was apparently an OHL
prospect. OHL. Ontario Hockey League. That's
serious stuff. Very serious. He actually had
ambitions of playing for the Canadian Olympic
team. That kind of intense focus, the discipline
needed for a goalie. You see that pop up again
later, I think. In the training for his roles,
maybe? Exactly. But that hockey dream, it ended
early. Injury. Ah. Okay, so that door closes,
and then he turns to acting. Round 15. Yeah,
makes the decision. Round 15. Gets his first
TV gig in 84 on a Canadian show called Hang Him
In. Does some theater, too, like playing Mercutio
in Romeo and Juliet. But even then, right at
the start, the industry tried to push back against,
well, him. Against his name. It's a fascinating
little detail, isn't it? When he was trying to
get agents in the mid -80s, they literally told
him to change his name. Why, too? Burt Howe is
new. Ethnic. Apparently, yeah. Keanu was considered
too ethnic or too exotic for mainstream American
audiences at the time. He actually briefly used
Casey Reeves or Casey Reeves for some auditions.
No way, T .C. Reeves. Yeah. But thankfully, he
didn't stick with it, went back to Keanu. And,
you know, that little act of resistance holding
on to his identity even then, it feels like an
early sign of that integrity people talk about.
Definitely. He starts getting noticed more seriously
in the late 80s, though. Right. 1986, he's in
River's Edge. And critics start paying attention.
Janet Maslin at the Times called his performance
affecting and sympathetic. It showed there was
depth there. More than just a teen actor vibe.
Exactly. Then he follows it up with a supporting
part in Dangerous Liaisons in 88, which won Oscars.
That showed more dramatic range again. But let's
be real. The role that absolutely defined his
early image, the one that created the persona
he'd spent years trying to evolve past, that
was Ted Logan. Oh, yeah. Bill and Ted's Excellent
Adventure, 1989. Yeah. Instant mainstream fame.
That charmingly goofy, whoa, airhead persona
was born. Most excellent. And the sequel, Bill
and Ted's Bogus Journey in 91, actually got good
reviews too. Roger Ebert loved its visual creativity.
So the big question then becomes, is he stuck
being Ted? Or can he actually pivot? Can he show
more? That was the strategic challenge right
out of the gate. And he tackled that challenge
head on. almost immediately after Bill and Ted.
The shift to more mature stuff was surprisingly
quick. It really was. And the key move there,
strategically, was choosing Gus Van Sant's independent
drama, My Own Private Idaho, in 1991, co -starring
River Phoenix. Playing a street hustler, a world
away from Ted. Totally. It was a deliberate signal
to the industry, to critics, that he had more
range. And it worked. The New York Times praised
both him and Phoenix, saying their performances
were insightful, not judgmental. It proved he
could handle serious drama. And right around
the same time, he basically helps define the
look and feel of the 90s action hero. That would
be Point Break. 1991 again. Playing Johnny Utah,
the undercover FBI agent infiltrating those surfing
bank robbers. Patrick Swayze, Lori Petty. Classic.
And it wasn't just a fluke hit either, right?
It did decent business. Yeah, respectable numbers.
About $83 .5 million. More importantly, it cemented
him as a viable action lead. And he really committed
physically for that role. Extensive surfing lessons
in Hawaii wanted it to look authentic. You see
that dedication again and again. And the critics
noticed the range, too. They did. The Times,
again, noted his considerable discipline, how
he could switch between the button -down FBI
agent and the loose, jointed manner of his comedic
roles. That versatility was getting recognized.
He won that MTV Movie Award in 92, Most Desirable
Male. His star was definitely rising. For sure.
But then comes that volatility, that willingness
to take risks that sometimes, well, didn't quite
pay off. Like taking on Jonathan Harker in Popol
as Bram Stoker's Dracula in 92. Okay, commercially,
that movie was huge. Made over $200 million.
$115 million globally. Massive hit. Huge hit.
But critically. Yeah. Oh, boy. It's almost entirely
remembered for one thing when it comes to Reeves.
The accent. The English accent. The accent. Yeah.
It got absolutely savaged. Just ridiculed. One
review called it painful and hilarious at the
same time. Ouch. Did Kopel ever comment on it?
He did. Later. Said Reeves tried so hard. But
you can almost see the strain, you know. Made
the performance feel stiff. So a big commercial
hit, but a critical stumble for him personally.
And he tried Shakespeare again after that. He
did. Much Ado About Nothing in 1993. Kenneth
Brenna's version. The film itself did well. Great
ensemble. But Reeves, he actually got a Razzie
nomination for Worst Supporting Actor for that
one. A Razzie nom after Dracula. That's rough.
So after taking hits for the period stuff, the
accents, the Shakespeare. What's the next move?
How does he fix that perception? He needed something
raw, kinetic, totally contemporary, something
American. And that's exactly what Speed delivered
in 1994. Speed with Sandra Bullock, the bus that
couldn't slow down. Iconic, absolutely iconic.
And it was a monster hit. Critically acclaimed,
commercially massive, $350 million gross on just
a $30 million budget. Unbelievable return. And
the director, Jan de Bont. cast him specifically
because of Point Break. Yeah, he saw that physicality,
that intensity in Point Break and knew Reeves
could anchor speed. And again, total commitment
from Reeves. Shaved head, months in the gym.
Totally prepped. Yeah. And it showed. Gene Siskel
said he was absolutely charismatic, that his
performance was juiced with joy. He completely
flipped the narrative back. Yeah. Bankable action
hero. full stop amazing turnaround and while
all this is happening this massive film career
taking off he's also playing bass in a rock band
yeah right alongside point break in the bill
and ted sequel hitting theaters in 91 he co -founds
this alternative rock band dog star He's on bass
guitar. That's wild. Juggling action stardom
and indie rock gigs. It really shows that early
refusal to be put in a box, doesn't it? Even
when he's hitting peak commercial success, he's
pursuing these other distinct creative outlets.
It sets a pattern for his whole career, really.
Okay, so after Speed, you'd think the path would
be clear, right? More huge action movies, bigger
paychecks. But looking at the timeline, there's
this distinct dip between 95 and 98. A period
people kind of forget. Yeah, it's a really crucial
period for understanding his resilience later
on. That post -speed phase had some major stumbles.
Remember Johnny Mnemonic? Oh yeah, the cyberpunk
one. Didn't land well, did it? Not at all. Reviews
were harsh. Critics said he was woefully miscast.
It completely failed to build on the speed momentum.
Then chain reaction came out. And that was dismissed
as just... Generic action formula. So just a
couple of years after being the star of one of
the biggest movies of the decade, his career
is genuinely looking a bit shaky. Exactly. Which
makes his next movie even more fascinating and
maybe baffling. The Hamlet Detour. Right. In
95, he just disappears from Hollywood to do Shakespeare.
Not just Shakespeare, but Prince Hamlet. And
not on Broadway or London's West End. He does
it in a small theater production way up in Winnipeg,
Manitoba. Winnipeg. While Hollywood is probably
wondering if he can still open a movie. That
seems like a massive creative risk, maybe even
commercially foolish at that moment. It sounds
crazy on paper, right? Instead of chasing the
next blockbuster, he goes completely off -grid
for serious theater. But artistically, it paid
off. How so? How was it received? Well, the most
significant review came from the UK's Sunday
Times. The critic called his Hamlet one of the
top three Hamlets I have seen. praised its splendid
fury and animal grace. Wow, top three Hamlets.
That's high praise. Huge praise. And Reeves himself
connected it to personal stuff, like anger related
to his mother's life experiences. So it proved
this deep commitment to the craft itself, separate
from the box office game, precisely when his
commercial standing was kind of wobbly. And that
theme, prioritizing integrity or the project
over the easy money, it really comes into sharp
focus with the whole Speed sequel situation.
Oh, absolutely. The Speed 2. Cruise control decision.
He was reportedly offered $12 million to come
back for the sequel. $12 million? In the mid
-90s? That's an insane amount of money to turn
down. Astronomical. And his reason. He wanted
to tour with his band, Dogstar. And he wanted
to do The Devil's Advocate instead, a much whiskier
supernatural horror film. From the studio's perspective,
turning down $12 million to go play bass and
do a horror movie must have seemed like... career
suicide or just completely irrational yeah and
there were consequences big ones 20th century
fox the studio behind speed basically cut ties
with him for almost 10 years blacklisted him
essentially wow so how did he survive that kind
of studio alienation well Partly because he followed
up that rejection with another act of financial
sort of sacrifice on the devil's advocate, the
Al Pacino thing. Ah, right. He took a pay cut
so they could afford Pacino. A big one. Several
million dollars less than his quote, apparently.
So the studio had the budget to bring in Pacino,
this absolute legend. So you see this pattern
emerging. He uses his financial leverage not
just to get richer, but to improve the project
or work with people he respects. Consistently.
It's about the quality or the collaboration.
And it worked out that time. The devil's advocate
did well, critically and commercially. And it
perfectly positioned him for the absolute seismic
shift that came just two years later. 1999. The
Matrix. Neo. The One. Everything changes. It
becomes this instant global cultural touchstone.
And the preparation for that. It wasn't just
physical, was it? Though the martial arts training
must have been intense. Oh, months and months
of incredibly demanding, highly choreographed
training with the legendary Yuan Wuping. But
yeah, beyond the physical, he dove deep into
the ideas. What kind of stuff was he reading?
He was reading complex stuff on evolutionary
psychology, systems theory, like Kevin Kelly's
Out of Control. He really wanted to understand
the philosophical underpinnings of the story.
So he wasn't just showing up to do the fights.
He was trying to embody those dense concepts.
Which is probably why the film resonated so deeply.
It wasn't just cool action. It had ideas. And
it won four Oscars, became the sci -fi classic.
And financially, The Matrix just catapulted him
into the stratosphere. For the sequels, Reloaded
and Revolutions in 2003, he became the highest
paid actor ever for a single production at that
time. He did. And this is where those famous
stories about him giving away millions come from.
But... We need to be clear about what actually
happened because the reality is maybe even more
telling than the embellished rumors. Okay, so
what's the real story? He didn't just hand out
$100 million. Not exactly. The sources suggest
he negotiated a smaller upfront payment for the
sequels. And crucially, he gave up his contractual
right to a percentage of the profits, the back
-end points, which could have been worth tens,
maybe hundreds of millions. Okay. Why would he
do that? Where did that money effectively go?
He redirected it. You wanted that money to go
towards the budget for the special effects and
the costume departments. So wait, he gave up
potentially massive personal earnings for better
costumes and VFX? Essentially, yes. It wasn't
charity in the traditional sense. It was him
using his star power to ensure the film had the
resources it needed. He was investing his own
potential earnings back into the artistic quality
of the production. That's incredibly rare. Unheard
of, really. And his generosity didn't stop there,
right? That's where the reputation really solidifies.
Exactly. He famously bought brand new Harley
Davidson motorcycles for all 12 members of the
main stunt team on Reloaded, said it was a bigger
thank you. Wow. And there's that other well -known
story about him finding out a set builder on
the Matrix was having serious family financial
trouble, and he just quietly gave the guy a $20
,000 Christmas bonus. And these weren't things
he announced publicly. They just got out. Right.
He built his reputation from within the industry,
from the crew level up. People saw it happen.
Even at this peak of fame, though, he's still
making some interesting choices. He took another
pay cut for The Replacements, the football comedy.
Yeah, did that in 2000 so they could afford Gene
Hackman. Same pattern. But then there was The
Watcher, that thriller that didn't do well. What
was the story there? He seemed miscast as a serial
killer. He claimed later he never even wanted
to do it. Said a friend forged his signature
on the contract. And he only did the film to
avoid a messy legal battle. Forced into a movie,
even as Neo. That shows even huge stars aren't
immune to the industry's pressures. Definitely
not. And on the artistic side, his band Dogstar
called it quits in 2002. But spiritually, something
really important had taken root earlier from
making the film Little Buddha back in 1993. Where
he played Prince Siddhartha. Right. He said that
film taught him a lasting lesson about old age,
sickness, and death. About the Buddhist concept
of impermanence. That everything changes, nothing
lasts forever. And that stuck with him. Deeply,
it seems. He doesn't formally practice Buddhism,
but describes himself as very spiritual. And
you can really see how that idea impermanence
of appreciating things while they're here informs
his whole perspective, his empathy, his public
persona later on. OK, so the Matrix trilogy wraps
up. What happens next? The mid to late 2000s
seem like a period where he's doing more specialized
roles, maybe expanding beyond just acting. Yeah,
that's a good way to put it. He wasn't chasing
the giant blockbusters in the same way. In 2005,
he starred in Constantine, playing the occult
detective. That was actually a pretty solid back
office hit. Made around $230 million worldwide.
Right, the DC Comics character. Exactly. But
maybe a more artistically interesting choice
from that time was A Scanner Darkly in 2006.
His collaboration with Richard Linklater. Oh,
the rotoscoped one. Based on the Philip K. Dick
novel, can you remind us what rotoscoping is?
Sure. It's this animation technique where animators
literally trace over live action footage frame
by frame. It gives it this really unique, kind
of dreamy, unstable look. Perfect for a Philip
K. Dick story about paranoia and drugs. Totally
suited the material. Now, the film itself didn't
make much money as a box office flop, but it
got pretty good reviews for its style, its faithfulness
to Dick. It showed Reeves was still willing to
experiment, even if some critics felt Robert
Downey Jr. kind of stole the show. And we see
him dip back into romance, too, right? He reunited
with Sandra Bullock for The Lake House in 2007.
He did, yeah. Though that one didn't get great
reviews. But what's really defining about this
period, I think, is his deeper engagement with
the actual business and craft of filmmaking.
Well, he co -founded a production company, Company
Films. But more significantly... He produced
and hosted this fantastic documentary in 2012
called Side by Side. Oh, I remember that. About
the shift from film to digital. Exactly. He interviewed
everyone, James Cameron, George Lucas, Scorsese,
Christopher Nolan, about this massive technological
change happening in cinema. He wasn't just starring
in movies. He was actively exploring how movies
were made. That shows a real intellectual curiosity
about his industry. And his passions went beyond
film, too, leading to a pretty major venture
outside Hollywood. Right. ARCH Motorcycle Company.
He co -founded it in 2011 with a custom bike
builder named Gard Hollinger. And this isn't
just slapping his name on some merchandises.
Not at all. ARCH makes high -end, bespoke custom
motorcycles. It's a serious manufacturing business.
It really speaks to that same dedication and
craftsmanship you see in his acting preparation,
but applied to building these incredible machines.
He put real time and money into this niche business
during a quieter period in his acting career.
So producer, documentarian, motorcycle manufacturer,
and writer. He started publishing books around
this time, too. Yeah, starting with this sort
of quirky adult picture book called Ode to Happiness
in 2011. That was his first collaboration with
the artist Alexandra Grant. Who would later become
his partner. Exactly. They followed it up with
another book, Shadows, in 2014. So you see this
pattern. When maybe the film roles weren't as
high profile, he was actively building these
other creative identities. Producer, writer,
entrepreneur, diversifying. But the biggest creative
swing during this phase, the biggest risk, had
to be stepping behind the camera himself. His
directorial debut, yeah. The martial arts film
Man of Tai Chi. released in 2013. This felt like
a real passion project. Totally. It was inspired
partly by his friendship with Tiger Chen, a stuntman
he knew from The Matrix, and he brought back
his Matrix choreographer, Yuen Woo -Ping, to
work on the action. How did it go down, critically?
Actually, pretty well, critically speaking. People
like the legendary director John Woo praised
it. Critics noted that Reeves' directing style
was surprisingly restrained and focused. They
liked that the fight choreography felt grounded,
not totally over the top like some Hollywood
action. Commercial disaster. Made only about
$5 .5 million worldwide on a $25 million budget.
A huge flop. And that wasn't the only flop around
that time, was it? No, it was immediately followed
by another massive financial disappointment.
The big budget fantasy film 47 Ronin in 2013.
It struggled badly, both with critics and at
the box office. So two major commercial failures
back to back. Director debut tanks, big fantasy
epic tanks. He must have been in another significant
career slump right then. Absolutely. It really
underscores that theme of impermanence again,
doesn't it? Yeah. Just before he pivots. Yet
again. That cycle of fluctuation is just incredible
because right after those big flops, Man of Tai
Chi, 47 Ronin, he stages probably the most impressive
and durable comeback we've seen in Hollywood
recently. Enter John Wick. John Wick, 2014. It
was like the perfect alignment of star and material.
It drew on his action history, his commitment
to training, but also tapped into that underlying
empathy people feel from him. Playing the grieving
hitman out for revenge. Over his puppy. And his
car. But yeah, the puppy connection was key.
The film just clicked. Immediate hit. $86 million
worldwide. Great reviews. Critics talked about
his effortless return to action. But with this
added layer of world -weary gravitas. And unlike
Speed, where he famously refused the sequel.
This time. He leaned in. Hard. He absolutely
embraced the John Wick universe. And the franchise
just grew and grew. Chapter 2 in 2017 made more.
Chapter 3 Parabellum in 2019 grossed over $170
million just in the U .S. alone. Became a genuine
phenomenon. Totally. And by the time Chapter
4 came out in 2023, you had serious critics calling
the series one of the greatest action franchises
ever made. It was the culmination of everything
he'd been building since Point Break, but taken
to a whole new level of style and execution.
What's so interesting strategically about this
current era, though, is that the comeback wasn't
just John Wick. He diversified his presence across
every form of modern media. That's a really key
point. He showed his range wasn't just dramatic
versus action. He jumped into major voice acting
roles. Duke Caboom in Toy Story 4 in 2019. Canada's
greatest stuntman. He was hilarious. So good.
And he voiced Sage. the wise tumbleweed in the
SpongeBob movie in 2020. He was willing to lend
that distinctive voice to huge beloved family
franchises. That broadens his appeal massively.
And then the leap into gaming, which is just
a colossal platform now, reaching a whole different
younger audience constantly. Yeah, playing Johnny
Silverhand in Cyberpunk 2077 in 2020. Yeah. And
the Phantom Liberty expansion in 2023. That was
huge. He wasn't just a cameo. He was a central
character. His likeness, his voice. They were
integral to this massive, culturally dominant
game. It kept him incredibly relevant. But maybe
the most surprising creative venture was stepping
into the comic book world as a creator. BRZRKR.
Yeah, co -creating and co -writing this comic
book franchise starting in 2021. And it wasn't
just some vanity project. It was a genuine publishing
event. How big are we talking? Issue hashtag
one sold over 615 ,000 copies. That's an insane
number. for a single comic issue, the best -selling
first issue since 2015, apparently. It showed
a real commitment to storytelling in that medium,
and it's expanded into spinoffs and even a novel
he co -wrote, The Book of Elsewhere. It's like
he's building his own interconnected universe
across platforms, and the story loops back around
again with his band. Dogstar. They got back together
during the pandemic, put out a new album in 2023,
somewhere between the Powerlines and Palm Trees,
and started touring again. So he's literally
headlining global action blockbusters and playing
club gigs with his indie rock band. The contrast
is amazing. It really is. And he keeps exploring.
He executive produced and hosted that Formula
One documentary, Braun, in 2023. He even made
his actual motorsport debut in the Toyota GR
Cup Race series in 2024. He's just constantly
learning, constantly trying new things. And the
future looks just as varied. Totally. He's voicing
Shadow the Hedgehog in the next Sonic movie later
this year. More franchise work. Okay. But then,
maybe the most meta moment of all. He's planning
his Broadway debut for 2025, starring in Samuel
Beckett's Waiting for Godot. Waiting for Godot.
That's heavy stuff. Another huge theatrical risk.
Massive. And get this. He's doing it alongside
Alex Winter. His Bill and Ted co -star. No way.
Yes. Bill and Ted together again tackling existential
despair on Broadway. You couldn't write it. It's
the perfect full circle. That's incredible. But
we also have to touch on the fact that being
this level of global icon, it comes with real
world political dimensions now. Yeah. That incident
in 2022, his films were reportedly pulled from
streaming platforms in China. What is that? It
was after he participated in a virtual benefit
concert for Tibet House US, which is an organization
associated with the Dalai Lama. It shows how
in today's world, even seemingly small personal
choices like supporting a charity can have significant
geopolitical and professional fallout for a global
star. Which brings us nicely to the man himself,
because so much of his enduring appeal, his longevity
seems tied to his public image, the perception
of who he is as a person, universally liked,
it seems. But his personal life, it's been marked
by just immense tragedy. Refound sorrow, yeah.
Yeah. It's important context. In 1999, his then
partner, Jennifer Sein, gave birth to their child,
Ava, still born at eight months. Oh, that's heartbreaking.
Just devastating. They reportedly broke up under
the strain but had reconciled later. And then,
only about 18 months after losing their daughter
in 2001, Jennifer Syme tragically died in a car
accident. Unimaginable loss. And he was dealing
with this while making The Matrix sequels. the
biggest movies in the world at the time. Yes,
he was a pallbearer at her funeral. Accounts
from that time say he just needed peace and time
before he could even face going back to work
on those films. To carry that grief under that
kind of global spotlight, it's hard to comprehend.
Yet somehow, through it all, he seems to maintain
these really solid long -term relationships.
He does, like his friendship with Winona Ryder.
It's legendary. They still joke about being husband
and wife. Because apparently a real Romanian
priest performed their wedding scene in Dracula.
Yeah, that's amazing. And then, of course, his
relationship with the artist Alexandra Grant.
They were collaborators for years, starting with
those books back in 2011, before they went public
as a couple around 2019. It seems like a very
grounded, mutually supportive partnership built
on shared creativity. And you get the sense that
this personal history, the losses and the stable
connections, has maybe shaped his whole perspective
on life, on mortality. It feels very earned.
I think so. He talked about death recently in
2024, saying something like, I'm thinking about
death all the time. That's a good thing. Not
in a morbid way, but hopefully it makes us appreciate
the breath we have, the relationships we have.
That idea of impermanence again from Little Buddha,
it seems central to him. It really does. It feels
like it informs his outlook, maybe contributes
to that sense of grace people perceive in him.
And that grace, that perspective, it seems to
directly fuel his philanthropy, which is legendary,
but also incredibly private. Very private. He
set up a private cancer foundation. years ago.
It supports children's hospitals, cancer research.
This was driven in part by his own sister Kim's
long battle with leukemia. But he doesn't put
his name on it. No. He specifically chooses not
to attach his name publicly to the foundation
or many of his donations, which really emphasizes
that it's not about PR. It's just genuine. His
whole attitude towards money seems secondary.
He famously said, money is the last thing I think
about. I could live on what I have already made
for the next few centuries. And the gifts he
gives to people he works with are just next level.
We talked about the Harleys for the Matrix stunt
guys. He kept that going. Oh, yeah. For John
Wick. Chapter four, he gave his core personal
stunt team these beautiful custom engraved Rolex
Submariner watches. Rolexes for the stunt team.
Yeah. And it's not just the big flashy gifts.
For the wider crew on chapter four, he apparently
gave them all personalized T -shirts that tallied
how many times the character they played as an
extra. died in the movie huh that's brilliant
it's those kinds of things witnessed by hundreds
on set that build that reputation exactly it's
why colleagues like lawrence fishburne consistently
describe him as this very gentle highly intelligent
man one of the kindest people in hollywood it
feels authentic because it's backed up by countless
small consistent actions which is why that whole
internet's boyfriend thing has stuck isn't it
it feels earned validated by these real moments
that somehow go viral. Totally. Like that story
about his United flight getting grounded on the
way to L .A. from San Francisco. Ended up stuck
in Bakersfield. Oh yeah, I heard about this.
What did he do? Instead of just getting a private
car, he apparently helped organize a van for
a bunch of the stranded passengers to drive the
rest of the way. And then, during the drive,
he's reading them fun facts about Bakersfield
off his phone, playing local country music from
the 50s via YouTube to entertain everyone. That
sounds almost too wholesome to be true. Is the
consensus that this stuff is genuine or is it
a calculated persona? Everything points to it
being genuinely him. Yeah. Which is why the persona
works, why it endures. It's not an act. Even
the sad Keanu meme back in 2010. The picture
of him on the park bench looking melancholic.
Right. It resonated because he looked genuinely
thoughtful, maybe a bit vulnerable. He brushed
it off later, just said, I was hungry. But fans
created Cheer Up Keanu Day because of it. There's
this protective instinct people feel towards
him. But maybe the most defining public moment,
the one that really crystallized that perception
of his grace and thoughtfulness, was on Stephen
Colbert's show. Oh, absolutely. Colbert asked
him that big existential question. What do you
think happens when we die, Keanu Reeves? And
his answer was just perfect. So simple, so profound.
He just paused, looked up, and said, I know that
the ones who love us will miss us. Just wow.
Right. The New Yorker wrote about it saying it
was so wise, so genuinely thoughtful. It felt
like a rebuke to the usual empty celebrity chat.
That ability to meet intense public scrutiny
with quiet sincerity. That's rare. It makes him
feel like more than just a star. He's a cultural
fixture. Definitely. He got his star on the Hollywood
Walk of Fame way back in 2005. And just last
year. In 2023, scientists actually named a newly
discovered compound that kills fungi. Quinamycin.
Quinamycin. That's amazing. He's literally fighting
fungus now. Apparently it's that effective. And
we can't forget the whole secretly immortal meme.
The comparisons to historical figures like that
French actor Paul Monet or even Charlemagne.
At least he doesn't seem to age. Exactly. He's
even joked about it, acknowledging the resemblance
in the eyes, the nose. It adds to this mythic
quality. He seems almost timeless, yet he constantly
projects this very real, very human kindness.
Hashtag tag it out, Trey. So if we try to pull
it all together, these four decades, what's the
pattern? It seems like Keanu Reeves navigated
these incredible professional highs and lows.
Huge risks, yeah. Turning down massive paydays,
going up to do theater in Winnipeg, directing
a movie that flopped. And enduring just... devastating
personal losses. By staying incredibly dedicated
to what? Artistic creation in all its forms,
discipline, and this remarkable quiet generosity.
I think that's it. He fundamentally seemed to
choose connection, quality. integrity over just
maximizing profit or playing it safe. Launching
ARCH Motorcycle, creating BRZ RKR, producing
documentaries alongside the constant physical
training and taking those big theatrical risks.
His whole career feels like a testament to doing
things his own way with integrity. And that integrity,
that way of navigating his career, it brings
us back to that core idea we talked about earlier,
that lesson of impermanence he learned from Little
Buddha. Yeah, it's such a paradox, isn't it?
He plays Neo, this iconic, seemingly immortal
hero. Yet his actual career path has been anything
but stable. It's been this constant cycle of
ups and downs, massive hits followed by quiet
periods or outright flops. It perfectly mirrors
that transient nature of life he seems so aware
of. So what's the final thought for you, the
listener, thinking about all this? Maybe his...
Could be. He projects this image of blockbuster
immortality. John Wick, Neo Dark. but simultaneously
embodies this deep vulnerability, this awareness
of mortality. He's the guy who thinks about death
all the time, who accepts the downswings as part
of the ride. So has Keanu Reeves almost unintentionally
become this perfect empathetic avatar for how
we all experience modern life? Trying to balance
the extraordinary with the ordinary, the legendary
with the genuinely humble, the successes with
the inevitable setbacks. Maybe that's the real
secret to his staying power. It's definitely
something to think about. the anomaly who somehow
became universally relatable.