Russo Brothers
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The Electric State: A Russo Brothers’ Misfire
The Russo Brothers, known for their mastery of blockbuster filmmaking with hits like Avengers: Endgame and Captain America: Civil War, have faced their first major misstep with The Electric State, a film that feels like an overwhelming attempt at artistic depth but falls short of meaningful impact. Even though their previous work with Netflix’s The Gray Man faced some criticism for its lack of emotional depth, The Electric State emerges as a bleak, soul-crushing misadventure that is easily the worst film of their career.
Based on Simon Stalenhag’s graphic novel, The Electric State is set in an alternate 1997, where technology has overtaken humanity, and a young woman, played by Millie Bobby Brown, embarks on a road trip with an AI-powered robot to find her missing brother. The film weaves together a dystopian tale of lost humanity and technological decay, but it ultimately drowns in its own stylistic ambitions.
At its core, The Electric State tries too hard to mimic the atmospheric melancholy of Blade Runner and the emotional weight of films like Her and Children of Men. The idea of blending a retro-futuristic world with modern-day anxieties about technology and isolation is compelling, yet the execution feels flat. The film’s pacing is agonizingly slow, with long stretches of nothing happening except for extended moments of silence and desolate landscapes. There’s a strange tension between the film’s visual ambition and its lack of narrative energy. The Russos, despite their ability to handle action set pieces with precision, fail to translate that skill to this type of storytelling.
The Electric State is overwhelmingly grim, but it doesn’t explore its themes with any real depth. There’s a sense of nihilism throughout the film, where everything is broken, and the characters’ fates are sealed in a cold, indifferent universe. It’s a tone that makes for an exhausting viewing experience, one that leaves little room for the audience to latch onto any sense of hope or meaning. Even in the face of such a desolate world, the film fails to inspire empathy for its characters. Millie Bobby Brown’s performance, while earnest, is stifled by the hollow nature of her character. She’s simply a vehicle for the film’s bleak commentary, and the lack of development makes her journey feel like an empty exercise.
The visual effects, too, are a double-edged sword. On one hand, the robotic creatures and decaying cities are beautifully rendered, but they often feel more like a gimmick than a genuine part of the world-building. There’s a sense that the Russo Brothers are more interested in showing off their technological prowess than in creating a world that feels lived-in. The film’s cyberpunk aesthetic, while initially intriguing, soon becomes repetitive. It doesn’t help that the visual style often seems at odds with the film’s tone. The muted colors and constant rain evoke a sense of melancholy, but without a strong enough emotional anchor, it comes off as forced and shallow.
What’s most disappointing is how the film squanders the potential of its source material. Simon Stalenhag’s graphic novel is a blend of nostalgia and futuristic dread, with the artwork conveying a deep sense of loss and emotional connection to the world around it. The film adaptation, however, loses much of that emotional nuance in favor of a more stylized and detached approach. The characters are unable to connect with the audience because the film doesn’t offer much for them to connect with. It’s as if the Russo Brothers were too focused on creating a visually arresting film rather than a meaningful one.
Even the music, which could have helped to ground the film emotionally, is forgettable. There’s no memorable score to leave a lasting impression, and the soundtrack, although atmospheric, does little to enhance the story. This is another missed opportunity in a film that seems to have all the right ingredients but lacks the fundamental spark that could turn it into something worth watching.
If there’s one thing The Electric State proves, it’s that the Russo Brothers, despite their proven track record in the superhero genre, are not infallible. The film’s attempt at blending deep philosophical musings about the role of technology in society with a personal, emotional story about family and loss feels like a miscalculation. There’s a fine line between a meditative, thoughtful film and one that feels like it’s trying to be profound without ever quite getting there. Sadly, The Electric State falls into the latter category.
Despite its ambitious premise, The Electric State never truly connects on an emotional level. Its bleak world and slow pace are overbearing, leaving little room for the audience to find anything to latch onto. The Russo Brothers’ desire to create something profound, an exploration of a dystopian future marked by technological collapse, is admirable, but they fail to execute it in a way that resonates.
Ultimately, The Electric State serves as a reminder that even the best filmmakers can have missteps. With a muddled narrative, underdeveloped characters, and a tone that borders on the oppressive, it’s hard to recommend this film to anyone looking for a thoughtful, engaging experience. While it may have looked promising on paper, the reality is that The Electric State is an exhausting, grim, and unsatisfying watch. Even The Gray Man felt like a better use of the Russo Brothers’ talents compared to this unconvincing attempt at dystopian storytelling.