by Tim Gordon
Big budget, big names, big ideas, The Electric State has all the pieces for a sci-fi adventure that should blow you away. But instead of taking off, the Russo Brothers’ latest lands with a dull thud. Despite a star-packed cast and an imaginative world ripped from Simon Stålenhag’s striking art, this road trip through a broken America ends up feeling as lifeless as the robots that haunt its dusty highways.
Set in an alternate 1990s, the story drops us into a world reeling from a brutal war between humans and machines. Thanks to Sentre’s “Neurocaster,” tech that lets people upload their minds into drone robots — humanity won the fight but lost its soul. Now, millions exist in a half-dreaming virtual state while the real world crumbles around them. It’s a setup with tons of promise, eerie, thought-provoking, and visually ripe for the taking.
At the center of it all is Michelle (Millie Bobby Brown), a restless teenager who refuses to plug into this hollow new world. When Cosmo, a sentient cartoon robot connected to her supposedly dead brother, shows up, Michelle hits the road in search of answers. Along the way, she crosses paths with Ke Huy Quan’s battle-worn vet Keats, a shape-shifting robot named Herman, and a ragtag band of bots hiding out in the Exclusion Zone. It’s classic road movie territory with a post-apocalyptic twist, or at least, it wants to be.
The biggest problem is that The Electric State feels both bloated and hollow. Despite their blockbuster credentials, the Russo Brothers once again struggle to recapture the spark that made their Marvel hits sing. Like Cherry and The Gray Man before it, this film makes a lot of noise but leaves you with a forgettable aftertaste.
There’s something tangible missing here. All the money is on the screen, the cast is stacked, the concept is cool, but it never connects. The emotional core between Michelle and Cosmo should anchor the story, but it’s buried under endless exposition dumps and side characters who drift in and out with barely a ripple. Even heavy-hitters like Chris Pratt, Woody Harrelson, Anthony Mackie, and Stanley Tucci feel wasted, phoning in half-baked roles that don’t stick.
Visually, the film does capture glimpses of Stålenhag’s haunting retro-future vibe, neon wastelands, towering dead machines, and abandoned towns haunted by the ghosts of technology. But striking imagery can’t do the heavy lifting when the script doesn’t give it any weight. What’s missing is that human spark: a sense of wonder, tension, or heartbreak that could’ve made this journey resonate.
If you’re hoping for the tight storytelling, big stakes, and genuine heart that made The Winter Soldier or Infinity War more than just superhero spectacles, you won’t find it here. The Electric State wants to be an emotional odyssey, but it’s all style, no soul, a cautionary tale that even the biggest budgets and brightest stars can’t hide the cracks in a story that doesn’t make us care.
Grade: C-
