When Heads of State hits your Prime Video queue, the hook feels irresistible: John Cena as a movie-star-turned-American-president and Idris Elba as a stiff-upper-lip British prime minister forced to team up amid international chaos. It’s buddy-comedy gold on paper—bold, campy, and just serious enough to tease satire. But despite its promising setup and two leads who bring undeniable charisma, the film can’t quite keep its own tone in check.
Directed by Ilya Naishuller (Nobody), Heads of State opens with a burst of chaos in Spain’s tomato-throwing La Tomatina festival—a vibrant red mess that sets the tone for a film that never fully decides what it wants to be. The plot wastes no time spiraling: assassins in disguise attack Air Force One, our two leaders parachute out mid-flight, and what follows is a globe-trotting, gun-blazing scramble to save face and maybe, just maybe, the world.
Cena plays Will Derringer, a former Hollywood action hero who rode a blockbuster catchphrase—“We did it at the box office, now we’ll do it in the Oval Office”—all the way to the White House. He’s loud, likable, and deeply in over his head. Elba, as Prime Minister Sam Clarke, is the polar opposite: methodical, Cambridge-polished, and more than a little annoyed that he’s stuck babysitting a PR disaster in the making. Their odd-couple friction drives the first act with genuine energy. You want to root for them—until the screenplay lets them down.
The real-world parallels feel deliberate but half-baked. Derringer is no Trump; he’s portrayed as an earnest, slightly clueless family man rather than a parody. But when an unseen villain later mutters the phrase “America First,” the political commentary suddenly sharpens—and just as quickly vanishes again. The film doesn’t linger on message, choosing explosions over substance.
That shift is where Heads of State loses its grip. What begins as a quirky diplomatic detour devolves into a loud, often nonsensical action romp. There are moments of sparkle—like Clarke steering the presidential limo in reverse through tight city streets—but they’re few and far between. Instead, we’re left with recycled chase scenes, forgettable villains, and a script that leans heavily on tropes we’ve all seen play out better elsewhere.
Still, the casting saves the film from total collapse. Cena and Elba share a natural, if underused, chemistry. Priyanka Chopra Jonas delivers some late-game grit as an undercover MI6 agent posing as a TV reporter. And Carla Gugino’s vice president hints at the kind of sharp, satirical voice this film desperately needed more of. But even these bright spots can’t fully distract from how much Heads of State relies on borrowed flair and uninspired beats.
In the end, Heads of State is a flashy vehicle with two A-list drivers and a flat tire. It promises a sharp, funny, politically tinged ride through international tension—and instead offers a crash course in how not to blend comedy with commentary. If you’re in it just for Cena and Elba flexing through explosions, you’ll get what you came for. But if you’re hoping for a smart twist on global politics or a meaningful satire about image versus substance, keep scrolling.
