Heads of State (2025): The Odd Couple Save the World: Cena and Elba’s Global Bromance
- Dan Brooks
- Jul 7
- 4 min read
The UK Prime Minister and US President have a public rivalry that risks their countries' alliance. But when they become targets of a powerful enemy, they're forced to rely on each other as they go on a wild, multinational run. Allied with Noel, a brilliant MI6 agent, they must find a way to thwart a conspiracy that threatens the free world.
I just finished Heads of State, and let me tell you, if geopolitics were this entertaining in real life, C-SPAN would come with a two-drink minimum and a popcorn machine.
This one stars Idris Elba as Sam Clarke, the UK Prime Minister with the jawline of a Norse god and the diplomatic finesse of someone who’s been trained by MI6 and raised on Bond flicks. Across the pond, we’ve got John Cena as President Will Derringer, a slab of sentient patriotism who appears to have been genetically engineered in a Red, White, and Blue lab with extra servings of creatine and catchphrases.
These two world leaders have a public rivalry hotter than a Fox News panel during Pride Month. Clarke is suave, measured, and brooding—basically Idris Elba being Idris Elba, a.k.a. the only man who could deliver foreign policy through a smirk. Meanwhile, Derringer is all tank tops and testosterone, a walking “Let’s roll” bumper sticker. And the premise? A wild ride through Europe after both become targets of a global conspiracy that threatens, you guessed it, “the free world.” Because of course it does.
Thrown into the chaos is Priyanka Chopra Jonas as Noel Bisset, an MI6 agent who’s so smart, capable, and cool under pressure that she makes 007 look like a drunk tourist in Berlin. The problem is, the film only gives her so much to do before the script tucks her behind a curtain labeled "Plot Convenience," which is a shame. She brings both class and snark to a movie that desperately needs both in between elbow drops.
Let’s get one thing straight—Heads of State does not take itself seriously. This isn’t The West Wing with muscles. This is Rush Hour in a NATO jacket, and I mean that in the best way possible. It’s drenched in puns, soaked in dad jokes, and flirts with parody like it’s trying to get digits at a G7 mixer. Half the dialogue feels like it was workshopped at a backyard barbecue over beers and burgers, and I was 100% here for it.
What Worked:
Let’s start with the car chase. Oh, the glorious, physics-defying car chase through cobblestone streets and diplomatic roadblocks. It’s like Fast & Furious met The King's Speech. I didn’t know whether to buckle up or curtsy. And can we talk about Elba? This guy radiates cool even while outrunning machine guns and bureaucrats. He could read an IKEA manual out loud and I’d still believe he was saving humanity.
Cena, for his part, embraces the meathead-with-a-heart-of-gold energy like he’s contractually obligated to charm you into submission. And it works. His self-aware bravado bounces perfectly off Elba’s deadpan gravitas. They’re the Statham and Rock we didn’t know we needed—until now.
What Didn’t Work:
Now, I’m all for empowering women in film. Love it. Applaud it. But we’ve got to stop pretending that 110-pound women are doing full Krav Maga takedowns on 250-pound elite guards with zero weapons and a solid manicure. Unless she’s using a frying pan, brass knuckles, or some ancient Wakandan tech, I’m not buying it. It’s starting to look like Marvel fight choreography after six mimosas.
Also, some of the script’s jabs—especially the more passive-aggressive ones aimed at Trump—are about as subtle as a punch from Cena. We get it. Orange man… polarizing. But maybe, just maybe, don’t drag real-world snark into what should be an escape from the real world. This movie had the opportunity to be politically adjacent without being politically obnoxious.
The Supporting Cast:
Paddy Considine as Viktor Gradov is your standard Euro-baddie with a grimace so tight it could open a can of soup. Carla Gugino shows up as VP Elizabeth Kirk and reminds us that seasoned actors can steal scenes even when the script forgets they exist. Jack Quaid plays tech support turned field agent Marty Comer, who mostly just looks panicked and confused, which, to be fair, is how I’d look if asked to hack a satellite while under fire from Belarusian mercs.
The Style:
The director clearly thought, “What if Mission: Impossible and The Naked Gun had a baby during a power outage?” And somehow, that bizarre cinematic tryst resulted in this delightfully ridiculous spy romp. It’s brisk, bright, and buzzing with international set pieces that feel like they were booked through Expedia at the last minute.
And yet, despite the popcorn-and-peanut-butter tone, there are moments where the film almost—almost—wants to say something about unity, leadership, and trust. But don’t worry. That’s quickly undercut by a one-liner about body spray or a gag about Twitter diplomacy.
Final Verdict:
Heads of State is exactly the kind of summer streamer you throw on when you want to see suits thrown into spycraft, punches wrapped in punchlines, and enough international clichés to power a UN meme page. It’s loud, ludicrous, and intermittently clever—and I’d watch these two knuckleheads do another global buddy tour in a heartbeat.
Score: 6.6 out of 10
(And 8.1 if you’ve had six beers and a bag of sour keys.)
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