Heads of State wants to be the next big, odd-couple action comedy. John Cena and Idris Elba trading barbs while running from the bad guys sounds like guaranteed popcorn fun. But what you get are two charismatic stars dragging an inflated script across half of Europe while director Ilya Naishuller fills every frame with jittery drone shots and digital smoke and fire that looks as if it escaped from a muffler.
Cena plays Will Derringer, a former Hollywood tough guy who somehow swaggered his way into the Oval Office. The writing never decides whether he is a clueless man-child or a sudden inspirational leader, which leaves Cena going between goofball energy and pep talk sincerity. Elba portrays Sam Clarke, a battle-weary British PM who seems to carry a flask of antacid in his breast pocket. Their banter clicks every ten minutes, usually when the dialogue stops hammering the odd couple angle and lets the actors riff, but whole stretches feel like a forced improv exercise where neither performer got the prompt.
Once Air Force One takes a missile, the movie nosedives with it. Belarus forests look suspiciously like Vancouver, Warsaw alleys resemble Montreal backlots, and the big Trieste showdown has the ambience of a mall parking lot after closing time. Naishuller proved with Nobody that he can stage crunchy, tactile mayhem, yet here the action feels weightless, a blur of cutaways that never lands a proper punch.
The script has a fetish for surprise traitors and breathless exposition. Paddy Considine tries to inject pathos into Viktor Gradov, a villain who leaks NATO dirt while mourning his dead son. Most of his moments end with another faceless goon eating a bullet.
For a picture that advertises breezy escapism, Heads of State keeps dangling grand thoughts about the fragility of alliances and then sprinting away. Any time a scene threatens to become interesting, a rocket roars in and a bunch of people die. Yet, Cena delivers a surprisingly heartfelt riff on imposter syndrome, while Elba mostly glowers like a gifted actor waiting for a script that respects him.
Jack Quaid’s over-caffeinated safe house manager nearly steals the show, and Stephen Root delivers a haunted hacker who looks permanently sleep-deprived, but their comic relief only highlights how timid the main story is. Even the score sounds confused, jumping from superhero horns to eighties synth to dramatic strings inside a single chase. The editors clearly feared the two-hour mark, slicing emotional beats down to TikTok length and leaving transitions that play like missing commercials.
Despite its shortcomings, Heads of State is actually watchable. Although it moves quickly, it goes boom often, and it lets two very likable leads flex their charm. For some viewers that will be more than enough. Anyone hunting for novelty or even a basic coherent movie should see it.
Heads of State is streaming of Prime Video
Screen Rated 