In the ever-growing vault of Netflix originals, Heads of State arrives like a frat party with a security clearance—loud, chaotic, and blissfully unaware of its own nonsense. Starring Idris Elba and John Cena, this buddy-action flick aims for Bad Boys-style bromance but ends up somewhere between The Expendables 4 (yes that bad) and a Red Bull ad campaign.
The plot (if you can call it that) is equal parts spy thriller, political farce, and playground improv. Elba plays a steely ex-something, Cena is a wisecracking ex-something else, and together they’re pulled into a global mission that involves explosions, fast cars, corrupt politicians, and a script that apparently never met gravity—or credibility.
Let’s be clear: realism took the first exit about ten minutes in. Bullets curve like frisbees, people survive helicopter crashes with no more than a smudge on their forehead, and one particularly baffling moment sees a character using a serving tray to deflect automatic gunfire, as if this is Call of Duty: Kitchen Edition. Physics? Logic? Diplomatic consequences? These concepts are neither consulted nor missed.
The dialogue is a masterclass in ham—every line is either shouted or delivered with the knowing wink of an actor who’s in on the joke. Unfortunately, the joke wears thin. Cena leans hard into the musclehead-with-heart archetype, while Elba seems to be channeling 007 on Red Bull. Neither is helped by a script that sounds like it was stitched together from rejected Fast & Furious drafts.
But—and it’s a big “but”—Heads of State never pretends to be anything more than what it is: a dumb, brash, over-the-top time killer. And on that level, it almost works. If you’re scrolling through Netflix on a Sunday afternoon, halfway between boredom and a nap, this is the movie that will fill the void. The action may be cartoonish, but it moves fast. The plot may be absurd, but it keeps the noise coming. It’s cinematic junk food—empty calories, but just enough salt and sugar to keep you munching.
Verdict? Heads of State is less of a movie and more of a parody of one. It’s too loud to ignore and too ridiculous to take seriously. If you go in expecting anything close to intelligence or nuance, you’ll be disappointed. But if you’re just looking to kill a couple of hours with something that doesn’t require any brain engagement—and you enjoy watching physics get body-slammed by testosterone—then this might be your flavor of stupid.
Rating: ★★☆☆☆
Great for: Background noise, hangover mornings, and fans of gloriously dumb action.
Avoid if: You like your stories to obey the laws of nature—or taste.
