‘Heads of State’ Review: A Political Action Farce Elevated Only by Naishuller's Artistry

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In Heads of State, director Ilya Naishuller—known for the kinetic chaos of Hardcore Henry and the surprise hit Nobody—trades blood-splattered mayhem for PG-13 polish. What should have been a fun, irreverent political action comedy instead collapses under the weight of its own emptiness, saved only by Naishuller’s irrepressible flair for action and the offbeat charisma of stars John Cena and Idris Elba.

From the opening frame, it’s evident that Heads of State wants to be a breezy popcorn flick with a geopolitical twist. Cena stars as President Will Derringer, a former Hollywood action star inexplicably elected Commander-in-Chief—an idea that feels less like satire and more like today’s news cycle repackaged with a wink. Elba plays UK Prime Minister Sam Clarke, who views Derringer as a joke—until they’re forced to team up after a terrorist attack downs Air Force One en route to a NATO summit.

It’s a setup that screams buddy action comedy with global stakes, but what follows is a clunky patchwork of exposition-heavy dialogue, lazy tropes, and paper-thin character development. The script, penned by Josh Applebaum, André Nemec, and Harrison Query, relies so heavily on cliché that you can almost predict every beat before it lands. Toss in a power-hungry Vice President (Carla Gugino), a remorseful hacker (Stephen Root), and a ruthless villain (Paddy Considine, phoning in menace as Viktor Gradov), and you’ve got a streaming-era stew of narrative familiarity.

Yet in the midst of this narrative chaos, the action shines.

Naishuller doesn’t disappoint when the fists fly and bullets rip. Despite the PG-13 limitations, he stages tightly edited and surprisingly inventive set pieces—a slapstick-heavy skirmish that channels Jackie Chan, a brutal mirrored vault showdown, and a slick shootout scored to the ever-overused yet effective “Sabotage” by Beastie Boys. It’s in these moments where Heads of State almost convinces you it could’ve been more than forgettable content.

Cena and Elba bring some much-needed chemistry and levity, riffing off each other with a natural rhythm that keeps the movie from flatlining. Their scenes hum with buddy-comedy energy, an echo of their dynamic in The Suicide Squad, though played with less bite here. Cena leans into a clumsier, more comedic action persona, which plays surprisingly well against Elba’s grounded authority. It’s a pairing that deserves a better script.

Priyanka Chopra Jonas, however, feels adrift. As MI6 agent Noel Bisset, she has her action moments—including an intense hand-to-hand fight—but lacks any real connection with the other leads. Her character is underwritten, her motivations barely explored. It’s yet another Hollywood outing that fails to tap into the star power she once wielded in Indian cinema. Chopra’s crossover may have paid off financially, but creatively, it remains stalled.

Jack Quaid, as CIA agent Marty Comer, fares even worse. His performance is a flat echo of Ryan Reynolds-esque sarcasm without the charm. He drags down the momentum in every scene he’s in, a frustrating presence in a film already struggling to justify its 114-minute runtime.

What Heads of State ultimately suffers from is the modern streaming ailment: the illusion of cinematic storytelling, without the substance. It’s visually passable, intermittently exciting, and completely forgettable. The dialogue feels AI-generated, with characters repeatedly re-explaining plot points for viewers distracted by their phones. Nothing sticks. Nothing matters. It’s content, not cinema.

Yet, Naishuller’s direction remains the sole lifeline. His ability to shoot coherent, engaging action—even when neutered by studio restrictions—is commendable. You sense a director desperate to unleash, restrained by a system that favors generic appeal over artistic risk. Had he been allowed to go full R-rated, Heads of State might have delivered the edgy thrills it teases. Instead, it’s a cautionary tale about what happens when creative talent is smothered by algorithm-driven storytelling.

In the end, Heads of State isn’t a complete failure. It’s a frustrating near-miss—a showcase of great action craft trapped inside a hollow shell. It may entertain in bursts, particularly when Cena and Elba are on screen, but it never quite earns its place in memory. Like most direct-to-streaming offerings, it disappears as quickly as it arrives, another casualty of the endless content treadmill.

Final Verdict: Watch it for the action and the Cena-Elba banter. Forget everything else.

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